Ari crosses one leg over the other, letting the tea calm him. “Just another night.”
“I saw the police chief’s daughter with you. How are you getting along with her?”
“Well enough,” Ari says. “We can carry a good conversation together.”
“Her father seems pleased with your interest in her.”
“I left a good impression on him at the last gala we attended.”
Reed nods in approval. “And I was told you were working on a certain state senator. Do we have him on board?”
Ari sighs a little. “So he says. Doherty isn’t always reliable, and he sounds skittish about attracting attention from the city before the election cycle begins.”
“Scared of the police?”
Ari shrugs. “Scared of Grayson. He thinks the mayor’s got the feds sniffing around his finances.”
“And what do you think, Ari?”
“I think it’s a valid enough concern. No one wants the FBI on their trail. But we can redirect any attention on him easily enough.”
“I look forward to the day we have a candidate with a fucking spine.”
“Would be nice. But I think an easily influenced mayor might be in our best interest too. At any rate, he’s in the right mood tonight. I’ll have the contract delivered to him tomorrow morning, and we’ll see what happens after that.”
“Good.” Reed turns to a new page, then glances up at Ari. “I’ve heard a rumor.”
“Is it about me?”
“Not everything’s about you, golden boy. Word has it Diamond’s ghost visited our docks last night.”
Ari puts his tea down. “Oh? Mozart?”
Reed puts his paper down for a moment to hand Ari a chart: a spreadsheet showing some of the latest shipments out from their dock at the pier. “Twice this month, details of our deals were leaked to Grand Central. Missing cargo, redirected elsewhere.”
“You think Mozart’s found their way into our circle now?” Ari suggests, skimming the numbers.
“Could be working with a mole, yes. But Rudra’s been questioning our people separately, one by one. Stories are consistent, as are alibis.”
“Mozart’s been pulling these stunts for a while now.”
“Not at this frequency.”
“They’re getting bolder.”
Reed leans back in his chair. “We received a report this morning that one of our informants at the dock was found with his hands molded to a post. No witnesses.”
At that, Ari looks up from the paper. “Did the informant see their face?”
“He claims no one was there. Doesn’t even remember hearing a voice.”
Ari’s skin prickles. Rumors about one of Grand Central’s new alchemists started popping up years ago, someone with the attribution of Mozart. At first, it was just a leak of information here, a quiet break-in there. An annoying thorn, prodding them in the side every few months.Diamond’s got a ghost,their crewmen started grumbling to one another. But twice in a month? A direct attack on one of their workers?
“That’s impossible,” Ari mutters with a sigh.
“So it seems.”
“How sure are we that they even work for Grand Central?” Ari asks. “We’ve already tailed most of their newer alchemists, and none of them match with what we know about Mozart.”
