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Orpheus’ clothes felt too tight on him. The music was too loud, the alcohol too strong, the scented smoke too intoxicating. The complex cocktail of sensorial stimulus made the man’s head spin. He never went to such a nightclub. Never went to a nightclub at all, really. If it wasn’t absolutely necessary to the investigation, the young detective would have stayed far from this kind of establishment. Also, Orpheus has been coming here for the past three days, every night, and the target never showed up, which didn’t fit his observed behavior. Just as the cop was about to give up and go home however, a tall, blonde haired man passed by him without a glance. Relief filled Orpheus as he recognised the man in a second. He feared their target knew he was under close surveillance and would become even harder to investigate.
Looking through the mirror wall behind the exposition of various expensive bottles at the bar, Orpheus quickly committed the man’s appearance to memory, as it was so hard to get a single, blurry picture of him. Never someone from the police succeeded at being so close to him except at gunpoint, and inevitably ended up with a hole in the head before they could testify anything.
He was young, in his early thirties maybe. He was dressed in a double-breasted brown suit, a plain white dress shirt and a blue striped tie. His long, blonde hair was tied in a low side ponytail with an equally blue ribbon, and was methodically framing his delicate features. His slender, elegant and delicate looking body didn’t really fit his reputation. He looked more like a noble lady and less like he was the head of the most violent mafia the country ever knew.
Orpheus didn’t notice his brown eyes indiscreetly lingering on the man, who eventually turned his head, his cold, ice blue eyes meeting with the detective’s through the mirror. Surprise was quickly replaced with guts wrenching terror at the realization he had been seen. “Am I going to get killed?” Just as he was about to run away, a freezing hand gently pressed his shoulder, which sent shivers down his spine
“Well well.. We got ourselves a curious mouse~”
The flirtatious, whispering voice could only belong to the target. However, Orpheus had trouble convincing himself the man was really a mafioso with such a gentle and soft voice. His left hand trailed discreetly to his service gun, ready to open fire if needed.
“Cat got your tongue?”
The man said again, with a hint of annoyance now. Orpheus turned his head to the blonde man, trying to suppress the fear in his eyes.
“Can’t I admire beauties on display?”
Orpheus answered, forcing a sly smile as everything the investigation found on the man flashed before his eyes, trying to find the most fit approach. The detective was knees deep in the most complex situation he ever faced in his career, and if he wanted to hug his family tonight, he better play in three dimensional chess. The man chuckled at Orpheus’ answer, visibly satisfied. Mesmerised by the soft movement of the man’s wavy hair on his shoulders as he laughed, the cop didn’t notice right away the mafioso taking his drink and purposely spilling its content on the ground with a soft “oops”. Confused, the man went back to staring at the other.
“Oh, I am terribly clumsy.. Allow me to pay you another drink as an apology.”
Orpheus repressed a laugh. The man’s deadly accuracy with a gun was everything but clumsy.
The detective thought for a bit. If he left now that the target took interest in him, he could anger him, but would most probably live. On the other hand, it was the first and probably last time someone from the investigation team had the opportunity to gather that much information. Any wrong move would end up as a newspaper headline however. The detective needed only a second to make his mind.
“Alright, I accept the apology.”
Getting up to follow the man back to his own table, Orpheus mentally apologized to Alice and Eurydice, his two younger sisters, to his colleague Melly and Norton who he hated so dearly, as well as his best friend. "Farewell Luchino!” he thought, knowingly feeling the death’s shadow looming over him. If he didn’t get out of it alive, he needed at least to record what he would learn! As he thought that, a young woman bumped into him. Just as he was about to apologize, he felt a small record device being discreetly slipped in his hands. He looked up, and met with playful brown eyes.
“Alice?! What are you doing here!” the man angrily whispered at the soon to be journalist.
As an answer, she smiled at him and pointed to the headphones she was wearing, letting Orpheus connect the dots. No matter how much he wanted to smash the recorder, and forbid his sister to be put in danger by listening to their conversation, he sighed, knowing this was the best and only solution.
He looked at the funny device Alice probably built herself. It was a little brown box, with a black microphone and a short radio antenna. Orpheus finally found out what became of the living’s room radio after mysteriously disappearing. The box seemed to be filled with various wires which served a purpose only known to the woman. Alice had always been interested in new technologies, while Orpheus was fine living in the present era, almost reticent to change. He had very little trust in things that fascinated the girl, especially radios, which could be forgiven given the context of post-war. And, finding out a bloody mafia boss is from the Third Reich doesn’t really help. Smiling at Eurydice’s childish doodles on the box, the detective hid it in his back as the blonde mafioso turned to him, wondering why he was staring at the woman for so long.
“Sorry sir! I wasn’t looking!”
Alice happily shooted to be heard by both men, before leaving like nothing happened, sitting herself not too far from them, since the recorder’s antenna wasn’t allowing much space between both parts of the device. Orpheus tried not to show his worries for his sister as he smiled at the man. From his cops instincts, he sat facing the whole room. He was uncomfortable with the idea of someone possibly sneaking from behind. The target however, sat in front of him, visibly not worried about not seeing what happened behind him. Although he was visibly alone, Orpheus wouldn’t have been surprised if half the bar’s customers were in fact his own men, which was the reason Orpheus couldn’t make any move for now. Trying to think as fast as a brain possibly can, the man smiled lightly.
“My name is Oscar Lamb. Can I ask for yours?”
The man chuckled before answering with a strange yet ineffable look in his eyes.
“Frederick Kreiburg. I am not fond of.. Nicknames.”
There was a small pause before the last word, as to stresse it. “Was my lie too obvious? Probably not.” The man was the best liar among his colleagues for being so often confronted with the targets, on the field. He was also quite the charmer. Time to see if he could seduce a man too.
“Can I ask what is your job to afford being at such a pricey place?
“I’m an actor.” the man said without blinking an eye.
“What a thoughtfully learned cover!” Orpheus deemed. There was a twitch in the mafioso’s expression, silently asking for the man to answer his own question, which he did.
“I am a novelist. I can pride myself on saying I’m rather popular.”
“Of course Mr. Lamb. A famous detective stories author, based on real life events. I do believe “Oscar Lamb” is a pen name however.”
“Touché..” The blonde man most probably saw right through the lie from the beginning, and led the discussion there knowingly. With a smiling sigh, Orpheus answered with a most honest tone.
“You are right. I apologize for deceiving you. My government name is Norman Campbell.
“Campbell?”
“Really?”
“Your coworker’s name?”
“Fuck!”
Orpheus’s mind raced at his words being faster than his thoughts. “I guess I became an unfaithful husband looking to cheat on his spouse..”
“Campbell? I believe I heard that name somewhere..”
“Did you?”
Orpheus was confused. In his luck, he picked Norton’s last name, which wasn’t known at all. If the detective picked Melly’s name for exemple, it would have been far more problematic as her late husband was quite the famous type and Plinius was now a renowned name.
“Where did you hear it?”
“Ah.. I’m not totally sure. My memory isn’t that great. I believe I read it somewhere.”
“Read it? This is bad, this is really bad! If police files are being shared underground, it would be dramatic!”
Frederick pushed a glass towards Orpheus.
“Personal pick. I hope you’ll like it.”
The detective thought of faking drinking it for a moment, but quickly reconsidered. There was no way he could fool the man with a crude lie, so he prayed about his alcohol tolerance as much as he prayed the drink wasn’t spiked nor poisoned.
“..!?”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s.. Surprisingly sweet. Or spicy, I can't really decide..”
The blonde haired man seemed satisfied. There was something dangerously ethereal in his soft smile.
“It’s quite popular where I am from”
“Oh, and where are you from?”
“Austria.”
Orpheus thought a bit.
“Isn’t it part of the Third Reich?”
“It is. But I am not fond of being associated with Nazis, nor with war. It’s one hell of a thing.”
Frederick seemed to be facing uncomfortable memories, as his smile faded for a second, before quickly returning.
“This drink is called Glühwein.”
“Glue wine?”
The mafioso laughed at the confusion.
“No no, it’s the German word for Mulled Wine. Don’t worry. There’s no glue in your drink.”
“I hope so..” Orpheus mumbled low.
Surprisingly, the two men went along fairly well for enemies, and the detective could almost forget he was on the edge of death each passing seconds. Frederick was rather the chatty type, comforting the detective in his idea that he wasn’t really seeing through his countless lies. He was drinking far less than the target, and surprisingly collected a lot of information. For such an uncatchable man, it felt way too easy, to the point Orpheus eventually grew suspicious. However he didn’t get a chance to be more cautious as he started to feel lightheaded, his vision turning slowly blurry.
“Fuck.”
His body feeling suddenly unable to hold his own weight, fell limp on the table. The man still in front of him, seeming totally unbothered by his own skyrocketing alcohol consumption smiled pleasingly.
“This bitch knew from the beginning..”
Orpheus started to lose consciousness, as Frederick got up and walked to him. He gently lifted his face with his index under the cop’s chin. The man could only wince at the almost stinging cold hands on his face, as the mafioso leaned down to whisper against his neck.
“Aw don’t look at me like that Orpheus. Don’t look at me like you hate me. Like you hated our little date just there..”
Orpheus wished he could deny it. But his voice wouldn’t obey him. He gave a glance towards Alice’s direction, feeling distressed. If his lies never worked on him, maybe he even saw through his sister’s schemes as well. Frederick did not miss that.
“Don’t worry about your sister. I don’t like hurting women. Nor girls.”
He gave him a knowing wink, at the implication he also knew about Eurydice. He then took out a pen and wrote something on the detective’s hand.
“It’s my number. You can try to kill me with a glare all you want, but I know you enjoyed this moment as much as I did. If you’re willing to cheat on your “husband”, of course.”
Surprisingly enough, he then retreated and walked away. Orpheus expected to be abducted, tortured and killed like every cop ended with him. However, being a mafioso’s favorite seemed to have its perks. He didn’t even take nor destroy the recorder.
“What a strange man..”
was Orpheus’ last thought before blacking out.