![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
glasgowsmiles.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
booshslashhavenTitle: The Valletan Peregrine (1/2)
Pairing or Characters: Howince
Summary: The long-promised sequel to 'Moon Noir'
Word Count: 2,695
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Cracktastic
Challenge: #14 (detective)
Disclaimer: Oh, how loudly I disclaim! I throw myself, prostrate (not the second 'r'!) at the great and powerful feet of The Mighty Boosh, which is in no way mine!
Author’s Notes: A million thanks to bellemortex for betaing, for I was in emergency beta need. A million apologies for the delay I expect to have in getting part two up, the fault is my own (as are any mistakes you might catch). As before, cookies to anyone who catches my weird references to stuff.
Moon Noir: http://community.livejournal.com/booshslashhaven/855175.html
She walked into our office one hip at a time. I pretended to be on the horn and gestured to a chair, waiting ‘til she got all her joints properly set into place, taking some fake notes and the like. Make her wait a bit, then go into the adjoining inner office and get things properly rolling. My name is Vince Noir, I walk on the wild side. I’m a private eye, I investigate things. Sometimes I put on a dress and sing torch songs, but that’s not important right now.
That batty crease of an office supply guru in the inner office is Howard Moon. He’s my partner. He likes to think he’s smooth, and me, well, I let him. To be honest, it’s kind of cute, the way he puts on the ‘cool’ act, but if you want the truth, Howard’s a two-and-one-half minute egg. In PI terms, he’s strictly soft-boiled. I’m the dangerous one, yeah? I’m the tough half of the act. When I’m not done up in drag, that is.
See, I’m from South London. Spent some time in the jungle, too. I said I walk on the wild side. Weren’t no metaphor. Maybe half a metaphor, but it ain’t all metaphor. Proper uptown nobs, they’re scared of me. I tuck my hair up under an old-fashioned detecting fedora and I’m dangerous. I roll my sleeves up past the elbow. I give this look, right, and I’m well intimidating. Howard’s always calling people sir. Or miss. He couldn’t intimidate a marmoset.
Okay, so he intimidated Bob Fossil, but Bob Fossil’s a borderline retard who spent half his time thinking I was a real woman and the other half blackmailing me into dressing like one, the point is, I’m the intimidating one in our duo. The pretty one, too.
I think people probably wonder what I see in Howard... at least, they would, yeah, if they knew? It isn’t just him getting me out of my deal with Fossil, ‘cause let’s face it, I’d be managing fine on my own without him. Even if he hadn’t saved me, something would have. Things work out for me. I’m a gifted child. But Howard didn’t run screaming when my dress came off, like most men do. Or when it went on, which most women do. He likes me both ways and everything in between, even though we’ve got nothing in common. And I like him.
So that’s how we wound up partners in the gumshoe trade. And let me tell you, business has picked up something fierce since I joined up with him. Part of it is, I’m a people person. Easy to approach. I got the human touch. Howard... he’s intimidating in the wrong way, see? Not to lowlifes, but to people in conversation, he scares ‘em off. He’s got a weird energy around him, and he likes stationary too much. The other part of it is the closing rate. We’re more successful, ‘cause I got contacts in the underworld.
Anyway, the dame in the green jacket’s been waiting in the chair all this time I been monologuing, internally. She’s got her hair done up in a chignon, not at all sleek and elegant. Maybe I could give her some tips on that, sort her out with some product. Or maybe it’s to match the glasses, maybe she takes off the specs, shakes down the hair, and men say ‘Miss Jones, you’re beautiful!’
I went into the inner office and put the tarp over Stationary Village. “We got a client.”
“Show the gentleman and-slash-or lady in, Vince.” Howard said, using his imperious senior-PI voice and hand-wave. He’s been saying that, gentleman and-slash-or lady, since I come to work with him. Guess he doesn’t need to be caught unprepared again.
“Mr. Moon will see you now.” I told her. If she tried to sexy librarian her way into Howard’s heart, I was prepared to come at her. Howard’s always threatening to come at people, but he rarely does it.
She slipped into the inner office, into Howard’s special client-interview chair. I perched on the edge of Howard’s big PI desk and lit his cigarette while she fiddled with her gold serpent brooch. It had little emerald eyes the colour of her jacket. I got a dress for nightclubs it would go with, maybe she’ll tell me where she got it. I could pretend it’s for a girl.
“What seems to be the trouble, Miss?” He asked, trying to look busy over old ‘case notes’.
“Detective Moon, I didn’t know where to turn,” She started in with the sob story in a thick European accent.
Howard froze like a shipped haddock. Making sort of a haddock face as well. “Mrs. Gideon?”
“Have we met?” She asked. Not at all flirtatious, which is reassuring, but I’m not at all sure I like him knowing her.
“It’s me. Howard Moon? We used to know each other, Mrs. Gideon.”
“No... I don’t think so. Perhaps you knew another Mrs. Gideon?”
“Who looks and sounds exactly like you?” Howard goggled.
“Yes. Perhaps.”
I didn’t care for her at all. She went on giving Howard the details of her case, and he went on staring at her, all amazed-like. I showed her out as soon as she finished.
“Vince, do you think you could shake down any of your informants?” Howard asked, cool as he ever was at any rate, like he hadn’t just been eyeing some other dame. I mean, as far as I know, a full-time dame. He called her ‘Mrs.’, so I’m just saying.
“Sure.” I bit the word out hard. “I’ll go do that now.”
Howard went back to doodling his little case notes. I hit the streets.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“All right, Naboo?”
He nodded to me and gestured to the chair opposite. Naboo’s my best informant, on account of he’s a shaman, and sometimes he knows things. He charges through the roof for useful info, but he’s reliable.
“What do you need, Vince?”
“I need to know what you know about the Valletan Peregrine. Anything?”
He sucked in a breath and held it a moment before letting it hiss out. Either he knows something and it doesn’t go over easy, or he’s forgotten he isn’t currently smoking.
“The Valletan Peregrine is never good news, Vince. It’s prime MacGuffin material.”
I swore manfully. The last thing any private dick needs is a MacGuffin floating around. “Tell me more.”
“Last I heard, Dixon Bainbridge was after it. Dixon Bainbridge isn’t a man to be dealt with lightly, Vince. He gets what he wants and he keeps it ‘til he’s sick of it.”
“Can you tell me more about him, then?”
“I could. A hundred and ninety-five Euros.”
“That’s steep!”
“I have a business to run.” He shrugged.
I forked over the cash. I wanted this case solved as quick as possible so I could get rid of this Mrs. Gideon. The way Howard was talking to her made me think there wasn’t a Mr. Gideon. “Dixon Bainbridge. And this better be good!”
Another big breath. “He’s trouble.”
“You said that already!”
“No. I said he isn’t a man to be dealt with lightly.”
“Good as!”
“All right, all right, don’t get your lacy little knickers in a twist.”
“I only wear lacy knickers under dresses.” I snapped.
“That was more than I needed to hear. Look, Dixon Bainbridge used to run a zoo, but it was a cover operation for something much darker... trafficking in endangered species, rare artifacts, drugs,”
“You’re one to talk.” I snorted.
“I’m not talking about party drugs, I’m talking about hard stuff. Look, I’ll spend a long weekend in the opium den same as the next guy—“
“I didn’t know there still were opium dens.”
“Sure. Tony Harrison’s got one. But there are some substances that are only fit for shaman consumption—well, not Dennis, but most shamen. Stuff you definitely can’t go lettin’ earthmen have.”
Did I mention? Naboo’s from space.
“No one knows how he got it. If they did, the board would be all over it. We’re talking Betelgeusian smack, Xooberonian marching powder, ‘Blasters... bad stuff. He got out of that racket, what with the board threatening to turn him into a frog.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.” I laughed. “It’d be genius, bein’ a frog. Hoppin’, swimmin’,”
“Well, yeah, but then we’d smoke him, Vince.”
“Oh.”
“With the zoo shutting down, he probably gave up on animals as well. It’ll be all artifacts with that guy, maybe weapons. Anyway, if he has the Valletan Peregrine, you won’t be getting your hands on it.”
“I got to. It’s the only way to get rid of Mrs. Gideon. I think Howard might be falling in love with her!”
Naboo swirled his teacup, took one last gulp, and checked the leaves at the bottom. “Gideon is bad news, Vince.”
“How?”
He shrugged again and showed me the cup. ‘Gideon is bad news’, it said.
“We already took her money.” I said. “It’s how I paid you.”
“I don’t know what to tell you. But you’d better figure something out if you don’t want to be in it deep.”
I didn’t. “Cheers, Naboo.” I said, although I hadn’t felt he’d been as helpful as he could’ve.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
That night Howard was distracted. There was a fog rolling in and tapping at our windows, like the whole night was as moody as me. I put on my best dress.
“I’m going out tonight.” I told him. “Are you going to take me?”
“Hm? Oh. No, no, Vince, you go on and have fun. I... I have some thinking to do, about our case.”
It was what I was afraid of. Our case. Gideon. I should have known it was too good to be true. Sweet, normal-type guys like Howard don’t go for sexual deviants like me. Not for long. They say they do, sure. Everyone wants to take a little walk on the wild side, and like I said before, the wild side’s where I primarily do my walking. A real live parts-in-order girl from his past shows up, and a guy like Howard will forget all about how he promised some drag act he’d love him forever.
I went back to the Velvet Onion. No reason I couldn’t—I wasn’t exclusive anymore, but after Howard gave him the business, Fossil’s been real accommodating to me, I sing any night I want to and bugger who’s booked, my drinks are all free, and nobody hassles me, no way.
“You singing tonight, Vincey?” Fossil asked, bowing and scraping and toadying for all he was worth.
“Yeah. I am.” I strode up to the stage, shoving a guy in a white satin tux out of the way. “Take a seat, mac, and watch a real pro do it!”
Tux’s piano player was already up there waiting. He started to make a fuss, but he shut up quick. We tussled before once over who had the stage, and I had Bollo with me. Bollo’s Naboo’s familiar, he’s a gorilla. And I don’t just mean like a hired goon what’s big and hairy, I mean he’s a real honest gorilla.
I pulled out the sheet music for a torch song. It was a bit jazzy, but I could deal with the allergies. Howard always said I did jazz beautifully... thinking about him put a sick little ball in the pit of my stomach, and the hives from the jazz would only make it worse, but I wanted to be miserable all over, the way he was making me feel. And I wanted everyone else in the place to feel miserable as me. I sang those sad songs ‘til I had the audience bawling.
Even Fossil was dabbing at his tears with a dirty handkerchief. The only guy in the place not going misty-eyed over me was the bloke with him. They were back by the bar, and I watched the stranger knee Fossil in the balls to get his attention. Nice. Times I would’ve liked to do that myself. Then they disappeared into Fossil’s office, him bowing and scraping and toadying to the groin-kicker even worse than he had been to me.
“Who’s that guy?” I asked the piano player, under pretense of picking the next song.
“With Fossil? That’s Dixon Bainbridge.” He said.
The world took on a startling clarity, like when you have a fever break and your head’s not all fuzzy anymore. I gave Tux the stage and ducked behind the bar, grabbing a glass and hiding out by Fossil’s door, my position concealed by the bar and a half-dead palm tree. I put my ear to the glass and listened.
“Shut up!” Bainbridge roared. I could hear a thud, and Fossil’s apologies. “Shut up, I said! Now, are you clear on your part of the scheme?”
“I think so, Bainbridge-sweetie.”
“Good. If Moon tries to pump you for information, just remember what I told you.”
“Will do, boss!”
“Now remember, when Mrs. Gideon comes here with my statue, you are to take her here straightaway and call me. I’ll show myself in when I arrive.”
“What are we gonna do about her? When we get your statue off her?”
“You idiot!” A ringing slap, another thud, a high-pitched whine from Fossil. “She’s in on the whole deal.”
“And Moon?”
“If she doesn’t kill him, you will. He’s always known too much...”
“And then we pay her off and it’s just you and me with the statue, right?”
“Shut up.”
Mrs. Gideon is bad news! She’s going to seduce and murder Howard? MY Howard? You’d better believe I’ll come at her, and Bollo, too! I was about to get off my knees and go running to warn him when the door opened and I fell into the office.
“What’s this?” Bainbridge knelt down and tilted my chin up. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing here?”
Time to think fast, Noir. After all, you’re a gumshoe now, it’s what you do... “A man in the club sent me back here. He told me you were a very important guy, and I should give you a good time.”
“Hey, no one gives my Bainbridge a good time but me!” Fossil protested. Bainbridge punched him in the cock. I giggled. Hey, I’m only human.
“A good time, eh? And what’s this?” He grabbed my wrist, hard, lifting up the hand with the glass still in it.
“It used to be a drink? And I... drank it.”
“He’s lying!” Fossil howled, the twat.
“He?” Bainbridge yanked me into the office, and Fossil locked the door. “He?”
“Yeah. He’s not a real chick! And he’s with Moon, probably sent him here to spy on us!”
“Well, well, well... looks like things won’t be going quite to plan... Fossil! Tie him up.”
I got tossed to a chair. What Fossil was doing with rope in his office I don’t know, but it could have been worse—duct tape would’ve ripped the sequins off my dress.
“And will Moon be coming here, when he finds his little gunsel missing?” Bainbridge tutted.
“He doesn’t know where I am!”
“Pity. Well, there are other private eyes who would be more than happy to hunt down my missing Peregrine. Let’s end this here and now. Fossil, why don’t you pick up the phone?”
“Sure thing, Bainbridge! Where do you want it?”
“You idiot, I meant ring Moon up!”
“Howard and me are over—I mean, the detective agency. I came here ‘cause I don’t work for him anymore! Just call Gideon off him and find someone else. He’s a rubbish detective, anyway! He couldn’t detect his way out of a wet paper bag! He didn’t get hardly any cases without me and he couldn’t close ‘em anymore now I’m gone!”
“Touching. Ah, hello, yes, is this Howard Moon?” Bainbridge turned his back on me. “I suggest you come down to the Velvet Onion, Mr. Moon. There’s a damsel in distress who’d very much like to see you.”
~~~tbc~~~
~Glas
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-06-20 11:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 09:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-20 11:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 09:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-20 11:53 am (UTC)Vince being all paranoid about Howard's faithfulness is too cute..
Love muchly!
Brie xx
no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 09:06 am (UTC)Poor paranoid Vince. He's fun to write-- he's usually made of glitter and confidence, I guess I like shaking him up.
Thanks muchly!
no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 09:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-20 01:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 09:08 am (UTC)Yeah... somehow she seemed like she'd be a good one. Is it the continental accent? The updo? The easy serpent motif? I'm not sure how effective she'll be, though... seems like the fact that she constantly forgets the very existence of her mark puts a damper on any dastardly plans...
Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2009-06-20 03:49 pm (UTC)The title, it isn't inspired by the film the maltease falcon is it? =]
I agree with Brie, Vince is so cute about worring about his and Howards relationship!
Oh can't wait for part 2!
xxx
no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 09:11 am (UTC)Yes, yes indeed. *gives cookies* I went and looked up the capital of Malta for this, too. As it turns out, Valleta. Hm. (and then it pops up on Jeapordy and I yell out the answerquestion in a weirdly excited way, but at this point my family doesn't even think that's weird...)
I'm working on ch.2 now! (I realized after 'finishing' it that I had completely left out some potential importantness, so now I've got to go back through and fix. Good thing I now have a beta-- if I didn't, I'd be posting weird meaningless endings and losing my own head...)
no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 03:24 pm (UTC)Lol that's because your family knows your awesome!
Ohhh ch. 2, but yeah, you dont wanna lose your head! =]
xxxx
no subject
Date: 2009-06-20 08:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 09:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-20 09:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 09:12 am (UTC)Yes, once you've fallen for a man in drag, you don't take gender for granted... at least, not if you're the type of man to obsessively organize stationary...
no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 08:42 pm (UTC)Just an example of why I love it:
He likes to think he’s smooth, and me, well, I let him. To be honest, it’s kind of cute, the way he puts on the ‘cool’ act, but if you want the truth, Howard’s a two-and-one-half minute egg. In PI terms, he’s strictly soft-boiled. I’m the dangerous one, yeah? I’m the tough half of the act. When I’m not done up in drag, that is.
See, I’m from South London. Spent some time in the jungle, too. I said I walk on the wild side. Weren’t no metaphor. Maybe half a metaphor, but it ain’t all metaphor. Proper uptown nobs, they’re scared of me. I tuck my hair up under an old-fashioned detecting fedora and I’m dangerous. I roll my sleeves up past the elbow. I give this look, right, and I’m well intimidating. Howard’s always calling people sir. Or miss. He couldn’t intimidate a marmoset.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-22 09:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-23 06:59 am (UTC);)
no subject
Date: 2009-06-22 01:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-24 09:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-23 11:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-24 09:53 am (UTC)