Promises Broken

Finnegan and the giant walked at a brisk pace towards the south end docks.  He quickly became annoyed with Berto's penchant for wandering off any time they stopped at a street corner.  One time he walked off to theoretically find a lost kitty that had turned out to be a rat, the second he was sure he saw a shining quag in the sewer and thought Raz would be impressed if he brought it home to her.  Keeping the giant focused for more than a minute at a time was a job in and of itself.

A walk that would have taken Finnegan twenty minutes ended up closer to an hour.  They slowed even further as they approached the wharf.  Finnegan took a moment to see who was there.  Maybe this wasn't the best of plans, he thought to himself. 

Fishmongers had begun bringing in their catch and were dutifully avoiding eye contact with Finnegan.  Twice he thought he saw people on the rooftops staring down at them, but ducking out of sight just as he looked up.

Eventually they came to a large warehouse at the end of Wharf 14.  The large wooden doors were closed and suddenly Finnegan realized how empty the dock had become.  The hustle and bustle of getting fish to market and unloading the boats was replaced with simply the scratches and creaks of the boats rubbing against the docks and the mooring lines shifting with the waves.

Head held high, Finnegan decided to push the investigation.  He walked up to the front door and knocked loudly.  A second later a small hinged window opened and man with small black beady eyes peered through.

"What'chu want?"

"We're here to see Furd!" Berto blurted out.

The beady eyes scanned Finnegan from shoes to bowler and then shifted to Berto.  The expression stayed nonplussed.

"He ain't here."

"Oh no we missed him?"  Berto looked genuinely put out.

"I know he's here.  You can cut the act" Finnegan bluffed, then continued:  "He's not in any trouble.  Just want to talk..."  
From inside he heard someone speak.

"Is that Berto? Hey let him in. I'd recognize that mook's voice anywhere!  Hey is his sister there?  Heh heh...  Who's the other voice.  It sounds familiar..." the voice trailed off as the main door opened.

Furd stood there and looked at Finnegan.  The smile vanishing from Furd's face like a tandil running away from a flame.  Furd's eyes narrowed from confusion to anger as he recognized Finnegan.

"You have a lot of nerve showing up here.  You promised if I went straight you'd never show your mug around me again."

"Furd!!!"  Berto shouted, ran over to him and hugged him right off the ground.

"Get off me you lent!  I don't know you.  Who are you?"  Furd looked around for the runners.  "You and I have never met in my life."

Berto looked hurt.  "Furd, its me.  Berto!"

"Get out of here both of you. I don't know you" he pointed at Berto, "And I have nothing to say to you except that I am legit and you've broken your promise" looking at Finnegan.

Finnegan thought quickly.  "Mr. Ares, I admit we have not gotten off on the right footing, but belive me when I say I hold no grudges.  I'm sure you are fully rehabilitated and merely wanted to talk with you about an organization called the Black Moths?"

The frown on Furd's face turned to a scowl as his complexion turned white. 

"What is this?  Some sort of setup?  I don't no nothing about no Black Moths."  There was a hint of panic in his voice.

"Are you sure?  I can, ah make it worth your while?"  Finnegan grasped.

"Ain't nothing you have that can make it worth my while."

"C'mon Furd" Berto implored.  "You're usually so helpful!" 

Furd's demeanor returned.  "Shut your face mook. As I just told this gentleman here, I don't know nothing bout the black moths.  You get what I'm saying through that thick skull of yours?"

"If you're worried, since, as you say you're now legit, I could arrange protection from the runners for any assistance you might be able to give me."

Furd guffawed.  "The runners?  HA!  That's a good one.  Like they'd ever protect me.  Where were they fifteen years ago?  Huh?  Where were they at the Refinery?"

Finnegan steeled his face. It was time to pull out his last card.

"This is about the missing children Mr. Ares.  If you do not assist me, knowing your past, shall we say, indiscretions, I can have a score of Runner's accountants and investigators here within the hour to make sure that you are as legit you say?  You know how runners are, a carefully placed report from me and we may not have to worry about the black moths at all in regards to the missing children?  I'm sure your room at the refinery is still waiting for you."

Furd looked dumbstruck.  No one threatened him, especially not on his dock at his door.  He looked around nervously. At that moment at the head of a dock a Runner's runner came around the corner and stopped as it received updated instructions.  It stood their, its glowing red eyes seemingly staring at Furd and the little group at the end of the dock.  Instructions received, it continued on.

"Fine.  Come in, both of you.  Slants all to brindle I don't believe I'm helping a crat."

The door closed, and Finnegan's eyes adjusted to the lowered light levels.  What looked to be a run down warehouse from the outside was an immaculate and opulent building inside.  At least fifty people and twenty lemur-men scurried around with clipboards, files and carts.  The building was abuzz with movement inside.  Richly textured pictures hung on the walls, the reek of sea decay disappeared once he crossed over the threshold.  Whether it was real or a detailed glamor Finnegan couldn't tell but he was impressed none the less.  A glamor would have cost almost as much as the items themselves.

"Look, don't make yourselves too comfortable I don't know much. Berto! Put that down!  That costs more than your life."  Berto, looking chagrined, put a small statue back on a table.

Furd continued:  "I met a couple guys at the Refinery.  Said they worked for these Black Moths.  They deal in all sorts of stuff but they have backers. Big time backers.  They're not from here but they have pockets deep enough to buy their way into just about anything.  They're looking for something.  Anyway they tried to incorporate all of us on shorter term sentences at the refinery and I figured it was just a bunch of pie in the sky hooey till I got out.  Next thing I know while I'm gettin' my business out of hock, people I worked with for years ain't calling me back, and that's just those that are still around.  Some up and left town.  Others just up and disappeared.  These guys are more organized than anyone gave them credit for.  Problem is you only get one chance to join them.  Slants knows I've tried to get back with them, join the winning side and all but now I can't even find any of their people.  Its like I'm always two minutes too late.  That's all I know.  They need something, and what they can't buy here in the city they burn.  I swear that's all I know."

Finnegan nodded. What was he supposed to do with this?  Third hand reports of a new mob with ties to the refinery.  He would have to find Berthold again and see if he knew anything.

"I thank you for your time Mr. Ares and appreciate the information.  Berto you have anything to add?"  Berto shrugged.  Finnegan wasn't sure what made him ask the giant, but anyone who supposedly could speak to cuttle might have insights of some sort.

Finnegan left the docks with Berto trailing behind him.  Berto looked a little lost and forlorn.  A block away from his office he stopped.

"Berto what's wrong?"

"I'm worried about Raz.  I haven't been away from her this long ever."

"She'll be fine." He guessed.

"Why did Furd pretend not to know me.  He didn't like you.  Are you a bad man?  Raz told me I could trust you." 

Finnegan chuckled.  "Me? A bad man?  Compared to the likes of some of your so called friends I should be nominated for sainthood."  They began walking again.  Just before he rounded the last corner to his building he slowed.  Dancing lights of what could be a fire played off the buildings around them.  He picked up speed and rounded the corner.  It wasn't a fire, once again the square in front of his building was full of cuttle.  Not quite as large as the day before but there were still at least 50 of the creatures.  This time all of them were flashing in unison.

"Oh no!" Berto cried!

"What?  What is it?"

"Another child is missing as of last night!"

Finnegan watched a couple of cuttle near the back who were tenticle signing for the non-cuttle species.  Seconds later as he pieced together the sign language, sure enough, Berto had been spot on.

Another cuttle baby was indeed missing.