37 Saun 722
Evening
"Hey," Max snapped her fingers at the girls sitting on Sabrina's bed in her room, giggling and adjusting each other before their work night started. The suddenness of the Rusalka's entrance jarred them to attention. "All of you. No offense, get the fuck out." The girls looked at each other before turning to Sabrina. The dancer's lips pursed in a deep displeasure. Max snapped again. "You looking to get your ears boxed or are you all already deaf? I said get the fuck out."
The girls murmured their disparaging remarks as they rose and angrily passed Sabrina and the Rusalka in favor of the door. Max allowed the comments in exchange for their swift exit. She shut the door firmly behind them. When she raised a silencing finger in an attempt to stave off the berating from Sabrina she felt was coming, the dancer smacked her hand away.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, coming in here like that?" Sabrina hissed her rhetorical question. "You don't always have to be such a fucking asshole. Are you drunk?"
"No," came Maxine's immediate, defensive reply. She paused, furrowed her brow, and looked up pensively for a moment. "That was a lie. I'm a little drunk, but that's not important."
"What could possibly be so important that you think it's okay to---." The sound of paper unfolding from Maxine's pocket stopped Sabrina's question. Her eyes looked to the ink scrawl on the front of the scroll and then to its possessor. "Where did you get this?"
"Dorrick's place."
"A courier?"
"No."
"A servant? A guard?"
"Benjamin's desk."
There was no hiding the smug smirk on Maxine's expression. Sabrina stared at the woman incredulously. The dancer shook her head.
"You went inside their home?"
"Uh-huh."
"And stole this off Benjamin Dorrick's desk?"
"Do I have to box your ears?"
"Did anyone see you?"
"Nah."
"Well, what does it say?"
"No fucking clue." Max gestured from the bed once full of whores to the door, then back to Sabrina. "You said you wanted to help. I thought you could tell me."
"Can you read?"
"Yeah."
"Then read it. What does it say?"
The Rusalka put her hands on her hips and stared firmly at the dancer. She pressed her lips into a line and threw the scroll at her. Sabrina caught the scroll with a raised brow. Max threw up her hands.
"Alright," the Rusalka started. "I can't fucking read. Someone tried to teach me once a long time ago, and I didn't stay here long enough for it to take. I can't make out the letters unless its a word I've seen before and I've memorized. Happy?"
"You really can't read?"
"No, Brina. I enjoy being stupid and telling you all about it."
"It's not a big deal." Sabrina twirled the scroll in her hands. "You know most of the girls here can't read either."
"Did that sound like a consolation in your head before you said it?"
"Honestly it did. Sorry."
"Like, no offense though."
"I know what you meant." Sabrina stopped playing with the scroll and gestured to it instead. "So...um...do you want me to read it? Or...?"
"Please."
The dancer broke the seal on the scroll and unraveled the parchment. Maxine moved to sit on the bed beside the woman. It was a moot point, craning her head to stare at the words on the paper. She recognized a word here and there but not enough for any of the writing to make sense in a meaningful way. Sabrina's lips moved as she silently read the letter. Maxine noticed and frowned, elbowing her.
"Sorry," the dancer apologized. "I'll start over. Let's see." She cleared her throat. Then she started again.
"Dear Mr. Kimber,
You don't know me, but I know you. Tristane Dorrick was a brother in arms to me for a long time while we served this city. Once the war had ended I swore my loyalty to him instead. I've lied, cheated, and stole in his name every season since. I lied to my fellow citizens, the people I promised to protect, and filled their minds with false war stories and delusions of Tristane's own grandeur. I've cheated men out of deals and opportunities to keep him ahead of everyone else. I've stolen from the very pockets of this city to fund and protect his campaign.
Worst of all, I've helped him steal from you.
I know that your mine is profitable but small. I know that your work force is of a diminished stature though your crew is honest and hardworking. I know that you can't afford to pay their wages, and that your family has fallen on such hard times it can barely survive on your own. I know you must curse the Immortal with just a little more fervor every time your see a Dorrick banner. How could you not, when its so obvious that their wealth continues to grow off your broken back while you suffer? I know you must lay awake at night asking yourself how this is possible. I'm writing you now to answer that question for you. I would wish that having it would bring you peace. It will not.
Benjamin Dorrick's new contracts have doubled his earnings in the last few arcs. All of that new, additional income has been reallocated to the family's pocket, Tristane's campaign, and a few partners best left unnamed here. You have signed an exclusive contract that prevents you from doing business with any other, while the Dorricks withhold what is yours and give to others to further their own interests.
When I'm not with Tristane, at his side during his speeches and the like, I'm detailed to Benjamin's business endeavors. I'm the man who sees the stock from Etzos, to the trade site, and back again once its liquidated. You are a good man, Mr. Kimber. You are being robbed blind.
I gave my heart to my city first. I fear I have betrayed it, selling myself to this family, and doing terrible things in their name. Before I lose what is left of my honor I would like to try to make this right. I am willing to risk reprisal for this so long as, maybe, I can help your family survive another Cold Cycle together. It would be a start.
I'll be out your way on business soon. I hope a stop in my travels to your property will be a welcomed one.
Cautiously,
Edward Hunt."
"Fucking Edward Hunt," Max laughed with a shake of her head. "You son of a bitch."
"Who is this guy?" Sabrina blinked incredulously at the paper. "Other than someone with a death wish?"
"He's a fucking legend." Max stood up from the bed. "Dorricks are ripping off Kimber, and he was going to tell him to fuck with their money."
"Are you going to go find him to talk to him?"
"Kimber?"
"Edward."
"Tried that." Max went to lean to rest on the wall and stumbled instead, misjudging the space between her extended elbow and her target. She shook her head, made the adjustment, and completed the lazy lean against the surface. "Green beat me to him. Crazy bastard walked out on his balcony in broad daylight and put a bolt through his own face in front of a crowd. Put Green right in the spotlight, and tied the Dorricks to it with his final words. Very public, bloody death."
"Wow..."
"I saw Green take this off his body while it was still warm before he and his boys took off. When I saw it on the desk I knew it had to have been important. Maybe we should reseal it? I could give it to Kimber?"
Sabrina stood up and folded her arms. While Max pensively continued her lazy lean on the wall, the dancer began to pace. The Rusalka was already thinking about crumpling the paper up, knocking on Kimber's door, and hitting him in the forehead with the message when Sabrina interrupted her.
"No," Sabrina disagreed with a frown. "This isn't enough."
"What are you talking about?" Max scoffed. "It's in plain words right on there. Didn't you read it out loud word-for-word? Kimber's family is starving while the Dorricks make it rich, and its all because he's not getting what he's owed. What more is there?"
"Proof."
"Right in your hands."
"No," Sabrina corrected her stiffly. "Real proof. Your proof, the real proof, is dead. Whatever he was going to tell Kimber about all this, it died with him. You have another rumor. What do you expect the man to do with that?"
"Shit." Max sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose with her eyes closed. "Well, now what? It's not like I know his accountant. Honestly Benjamin is so paranoid and desperate to prove his worth, I bet he does the books himself."
"That's it!"
"What's it?"
"You're right. I bet he does do the books himself."
The dancer smiled, satisfied with herself as she made for her dresser. She started pulling drawers and tugging out clothes as she went. Before long a small collection of outfit options was tossed on the comforter of her bed.
"Our boss here, at the club?" Sabrina continued as she turned to appraise her choices for the night. She gripped the edges of her shirt and tugged it off her head. "He's into some shady shit. He does his own books so he can control the numbers. I bet Benjamin does the same. Steal his ledger, and we can prove it."
"You're a fucking genius," Maxine grinned. She walked over and snatched the scroll out of Sabrina's hands. She folded it up and stuffed it back in her pocket. "But first...I'm going to play with his money. Force him to make an entry."
Before Sabrina had the time to make another point, the Rusalka and her drunken, one-track mind had already stumbled out the door and shut it behind her.
