On to work

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Again the feeling of the sun felt nice on my face. Clouds dappled the blue sky in patterns and shapes.
It has been decided that cleaners work immediately and get a percentage of the payment in helping with cases. Not only do we cleaners take care tying up loose ends, we also can be informants and researchers, it's a multitasking job.

So now I'm driving to our current destination, a classic, old styled pub to meet an informant Kevin knows, while researching the former target's profile on a computer installed in the car. Kevin sat in the passenger seat silently staring out the window. It appears he is distressed about something but most likely will not talk about it even if his life was leverage for it. Glancing at him from the corner of my eye his thoughtful expression seemed fairly attractive.
"A penny for your thoughts Sheriff?" I asked my eyes returning to the patterned flicker between the road and files.

"Just wondering if you're capable enough to get any useful information." He answered.

"You insult me without knowing?" I questioned. "You would be surprised how much I hear within a single hour."

Kevin sat up properly, eyeing me intrigued. "Gimme an example, Double D."

"Please no old nicknames Kevin or I'll call you by the one Eddy came up with." I requested. "And this morning during breakfast in that cafe near the garden I heard that Mr. Palmer recently got a young male lover and that his lover refuses to acknowledge the relationship."

Kevin nodded impressed, "Good, how about negotiations on getting information?" Forgetting the whole nicknames thing.

"There are reasons why cleaners carry hidden weapons in places where they do not belong. After all cleaners do the dirty work." I smirked cockily. "And I can be pretty persuasive even without weapons." I parked in front of the pub.

"Then let's put your charm to the test." Kevin declared climbing out. I followed, folding and stashing my notes in my inner coat pocket. We walked inside, men drinking and gambling, women in hooker outfits of various eras waltzed around seducing men to get any bit of cash.
"Alright, I'll lend you a few bucks for information in case your persuasion fails you." Kevin slapped a small roll of bills into my palm. "I want that back if you manage on your own."

"Oh, your not gunna pay me since I am your personal informant?" I teased.

"Hell no, you get your pay when this homework is finished." The red head concluded before walking away. I slipped the bills into my pocket and walked toward a random gambling table.
I observed the game being played with quiet obvious disinterest. A few hookers approached the table and idled up to the players giggling flirtatiously and whispering sweet little nonsense things. One slide to my side, a young woman in a short skirted western forest green gown completed with a breast boosting corset, little hat with a single over sized feather attached, and feather fan.
"Howdy, are you looking for a game sir?" She looked up at me with coy sky blue eyes.

"Please, miss, call me Vincent." I grinned down at her. "Are you looking to service me in some way or another?"

The girl latched on to my arm making it clear I'm in her market. "What kind of service are you looking for?"

I looked around to see if anyone is watching, found Kevin watching from the bar. I smirked and looked back at the girl, "How about some place private?" I suggested. She obviously got the wrong idea but led me to a private room.
It was a simple room with only a bed covered with clean white sheets and a dresser with a record player. The girl forced me to sit on the bed, she climbed on to my lap, and began undoing my tie.
"Excuse me but this isn't exactly what I had in mind." I began with a calm tone. "How about we take this slow, I don't intend on having children at a young age."
The girl looked confused and stood up. Ah... I understand now. I thought she was a bit anxious for an average hooker. I stood and fixed my tie.
"How about we start with a dance." I offered a gloved hand. She took it silently, I guided her over to the dresser and turned on the player. A classic symphony played in a gentle start.

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