Fic: Adventures in the Bad Green Apple: Blood for a Bauble - Chapter 6 (Wicked)
Fandom: Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West
Disclaimer: Wicked (c) Gregory Maguire.
Rating: PG, whole fic PG-13/R.
Summary: In a slightly different Oz, Elphaba Thropp ekes out her living as a bitter private eye in the Emerald City, the bad green apple of Oz, where rain rarely lets up, crime runs rampant, and sensuous socialites wrap themselves in cigarette smoke.
Chapters: Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 / 12
Adventures in the Bad Green Apple: Blood for a Bauble
Chapter 6.
Silence descended on the room. Crope gritted his teeth. Glinda was still shaking her head, not wanting to believe what she heard.
"How dare you?" Tibbett muttered, and then shouted, "How dare you!" He ran at his employer. Elphaba dodged the blow and grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back.
"You're a good employee, Tibbs, don't ruin that now," she said into his ear, holding him as he screeched.
"Tibbett, don't!" Crope called, moving towards the pair. "Let go of him and I'll tell you what you want to know," he said, defeated. Tibbett's eyes widened as Elphaba let go of him. He stumbled out of her grasp, his gaze flickering between her and Crope, unsure where to turn.
"Glinda, I'm sorry," said Crope, not looking at her but at the floor, his face a mask of misery. "But you know I haven't a bean. When I noticed the Grimmerald hanging around your neck so casually I could hardly believe my eyes. Yet it could be nothing else."
"You mean you were not the one who lifted it from the museum?" Elphaba asked, rubbing her temple.
"How could I? I'm no cat burglar. They had that place locked up tighter than the Gale Force headquarters. Whoever took it was a professional. I suspected it had been stolen after the exhibit was suddenly canceled, but I didn't know it for a fact until I saw it boldly presented as the centerpiece of a manufacture line piece of jewelry!"
Elphaba's gaze wandered to Glinda thoughtfully. Glinda returned her gaze, blue eyes pleading. "So someone took it from the museum and placed it into Glinda's necklace and then you took it - why?"
"Money," Crope shrugged. "There was someone willing to pay for it."
"Who?" Elphaba interrupted, taking out a cigarette. This case just got more and more confusing. If Crope hadn't taken the Grimmerald - who had? Crope paused, but only for a second.
"The Grimmerald is not just a valuable jewel. Its history speaks of strange powers, the sort that also take great power to control. I found someone who could use it, who I believed could protect me if something went wrong." He turned to Tibbett with a desperate look on his face."Tibbs, please - I'm so sorry." Tibbett had crossed his arms and was currently leaning away from his lover. There were tears threatening to well up in his eyes.
"How could you? How could you?" he asked quietly. "I thought you were my perfect man - but you're nothing but a common thief!" The last word was a shouted as Tibbett pushed past Elphaba towards the door.
"Tibbett, wait! I did this for you! I wanted..." Crope looked down as Tibbett turned back to him, unable to meet the other man's eyes. "I wanted to propose - really I did, but you deserve so much better. I wanted to give you a life of luxury, wanted to spoil you rotten, really, but now I suppose it wasn't worth it."
Tibbett's brow cleared, and he stared at Crope in amazement. "You were going to propose?" he asked slowly, the information sinking in. "Really?"
"Yes," Crope answered, stepping up to Tibbett and taking his face between his hands, stroking him gently. "But not like this - not as a poor, unemployed, worthless..." He was cut off as Tibbett pulled him down for a resounding kiss, wrapping his arms around him.
"I'm not forgiving you," Tibbett said slowly when they came up for air."You were an idiot." Crope nodded sadly, kissing Tibbett's forehead. "But a very, very sweet one."
Elphaba watched the affection with conflicted feelings, not that she showed them. "As touching as this is, gentlemen, there is still the matter of who took the jewel in the first place, not to mention who you were working for and who shot the contact."
"Oh, you have no heart," said Glinda bitterly and sniffed. Elphaba was surprised to see she was dabbing her eye on an embroidered handkerchief. "I told you Crope was no crook."
Elphaba let that particular piece of misplaced self-congratulation slide as too outrageous to even challenge. "I suppose it was you who ransacked my office, too?"
Tibbett gasped. "After all my hard work!" He slapped Crope and then kissed him again. Elphaba sighed.
"You must have been looking for the Grimmerald or for any evidence I might have found that would lead you to it, am I right? You and your employer must have been desperate to recover it. Just tell me," Elphaba demanded. "Who was it?"
The world held it's breath, even the birds outside had stopped tweeting and the senseless howl of the city froze. Then the phone rang, a jingling sound that pierced the tension. Elphaba growled in frustration - a noise which made a certain member of the room feel more than a little breathless - and picked up the phone.
"Hello?" she snapped, dragging a hand through her hair. "What do you want?
"Polite as ever I see," came the clipped reply. Elphaba almost groaned. She did not need this right now.
"Look, I'm a bit busy right now, Nessie, I'm just..."
"Your case, I know, but that was what I phoned you to discuss." Elphaba rolled her eyes and resigned herself to having to listen to her sister's demands. She twitched her tie and leaned back against the desk.
"You find some information for me?" she asked and gestured for the other people in the room to amuse themselves. Glinda looked to the two men and shrugged, confused at the conversation she was forced to overhear.
"No, but I want you to have information for me," Nessa replied icily. "That is your job isn't it?"
"Not necessarily," Elphaba answered evasively. "What do you want to know?"
"The guard who was killed was one of my personal stock. My personnel tell me he has been acting a little odd recently, taking trips to the Winkie section of the city of all places." Elphaba's eyes widened and her guests looked to her. She turned away listening intently.
"And you want to know why?" Elphaba finished, twirling the phone cord between elegant fingers.
"Yes," he sister answered shortly, Elphaba could just imagine her gripping the arms of her chair in frustration at having to ask her big sister for help.
"Simple question - why do you care?" Elphaba asked, intrigued. "You didn't seem to care much when I told you he had been murdered." She heard a sigh of annoyance.
"I thought you just meant one of my stablemen or something, not one of my bodyguards. If he was conspiring against me I would like to know. I trusted that man with my life and now I find someone has killed him. I want to know, Elphaba, and you're going to tell me everything you know." There was a threatening tone to her voice now, one that Elphaba certainly didn't like.
"Oh I am, am I? And what makes you think I would do that?" Elphaba growled down the receiver, her eyes flaring.
"I am the Eminent Thropp and I order you to!" Nessarose shrieked, making Elphaba hold the phone away from her ear.
"Nice try, Nessa, but I really don't take orders from you," she told her, before placing the phone down.
She turned back to Crope, who looked up guiltily from Tibbett, and searched his face. What she saw was fear. "Just say it," she told Crope, more gently this time. "I think I already know the answer."
Crope hung his head. "I'm the least important piece in this puzzle. I don't want to die for what I tell you." He hesitated. "I..."
"It was Fiyero, wasn't it?"
Crope's mouth snapped shut. He gave Elphaba a careful look.
"He had the jewel stolen. He has the capacity - he can contact and pay for the best of the best thieves and burglars in the city." Elphaba sighed and adjusted her hat. "Tell me about the Grimmerald, Mr Crope."
"It was said to be of ancient religious importance, allegedly highly magical, and the museum's hired sorcerers did say it emanated a magical vibrancy, but what its purpose was they could not tell. The markings on it made no sense to them." He paused, and continued with a grim look on his face, "The museum anthropologists linked it to the Winkie legends of a mystical, semi-religiously viewed jewel held in Kiamo Ko that was stolen decades ago, some say by the Wizard himself... But..."
"Kiamo Ko is the ancestral home of Prince Fiyero," Elphaba said grimly. "He stole it from the museum, hid it in plain sight in his mistress's necklace and waited for the post-theft security to be relaxed. Callous, but if he thinks it advances his people that man will dare anything, for better or worse." She turned to Glinda, who was staring at her with a look that flickered between indignation and astonishment. "When you showed him the door, he had to get to the jewel back somehow. Theft was the only way. He hired an outsider to pick the jewel up from Crope to confuse the trail further. The only thing he didn't - couldn't have - expected was that someone else, a third party, knew about the exchange, knew the value of Miss Arduenna's necklace, and decided to get it at any cost - someone who wanted it badly enough not only to murder for it, but to risk the ire of the Winkie Prince, too."
"Who was it?" asked Glinda, clutching the edge of the desk in excitement.
"Someone with magical power. Someone who needed more. Someone well versed in the history of magic in Oz - someone with political clout, who had hopes of the protection of the Wizard himself."
Glinda gasped. "You don't mean... But she's your own..."
"I mean your sweet old school ma'am - Madame Morrible."
Glinda stopped, frowned, blinked, and then gave Elphaba a scrunched look of disbelief, as if she wasn't sure she got the joke. "Morrible? Really?"
"Yes," said Elphaba calmly, though her jaw was set, and she turned to address everyone in the room. "Madame Morrible, who had access to the kind of old gun that was used to shoot the liveried man. Madame Morrible, who has recently set her eyes on the Wizard himself. I read the gossip papers, too," she added with a wink to Glinda. "She knew the history of the Grimmerald, as it had been the subject of a series of lessons in Shiz the past month." Elphaba turned to one of the piles of old newspapers that still stood neatly arranged on a shelf next to the filing cabinet and rifled through it until she found the copy of The Eye on Oz she had been looking for. "Ah. Here." She pointed a lean green finger to an ad in the back of the newspaper.
Glinda sat down on the only chair in the room, holding her head. "You remembered that, just like that?"
"If there's an article about a incomparably valuable jewel that is rumoured to have been stolen, I notice it," Elphaba said, replacing the newspaper. "I am human, you know," she said more quietly, making Glinda cough and fumble for a make-up mirror to hide behind. Elphaba continued, "After recognizing the jewel at Glinda's neck, purloining it should have been a simple matter - but Crope here got to it first. The good lady must have appeared in Revolution Street soon after Glinda called her to cancel their engagement that night. She would have been eager to see if the thief could still be intercepted. I suppose she was lucky. Either that, or she had a man on the scene the whole time, who did the actual murder. I suspect the maid, at least, was in her pay all the way."
Glinda cried out in outrage. "Not Maud!"
"You must learn to be less trusting," Elphaba sighed. "You first employed her in Shiz, didn't you?"
"Ye-es..."
"Makes sense the girlfriend of the Winkie Prince would be under close scrutiny by the Wizard's political allies."
Glinda buried her face in her hands, shaking her head, in either grief or disbelief. Elphaba had the urge to put her arm around the girl, but this was no time for it, and besides, she was not a sentimental fool - she was not a lover - was she?
Glinda uncurled herself, her eyes sparking with anger. "That little bitch," she hissed. "She can forget about a reference!" Elphaba blinked, coughed, and began to pace the small room.
Tibbett and Crope were staring at the detective, one with wonder, the other with apprehension, both expectant. After a few turns to collect her thoughts, she continued, "I can imagine several reasons why Madame Morrible might have wanted the Grimmerald, but in bartering it back to Fiyero she seems to have settled for the least likely. It bothered me until I saw today's paper." She looked around for it, but then muttered, "Must have left it in the carriage. But the long an short of it is, the Wizard has announced his engagement to a twelve-year-old saint. What that means is that if the good journalists of The Ballad Weekly were correct about the Madame's hopes and ambitions of one day becoming Mrs Wizard they are now dashed. Perhaps she first meant to return the Grimmerald to the city to win his good favour and estimable hand. Perhaps she was indeed hired to do so... In either case, she seems to have decided to sell it back to the original thief, out of desperation or spite, or both. She identified herself by a code name, but quite clearly enough to be recognized by Fiyero as well as myself in the note she sent him asking him to meet her to negotiate for the jewel's return - the one that called him away from Master Boq's library. A mistake, perhaps - but then I doubt she's a professional. They are meeting tonight at Steady Jemmy's nightclub."
-
The night was falling and tea, supplied by the ever-expedient Tibbett, had been drunk when Elphaba prepared to act. She rummaged around in the pitiful wardrobe she had disguised as another file cabinet - no need to let prospective clients know she was living out of her office - trying to find something that could possibly render a green woman less conspicuous, something other than her usual attire, too, which was known all over town. Her hand fell on a short brown jacket.
"You can not be serious!" Glinda cried, pulling Elphie away from the wardrobe. "You can't go, I won't let you - it's much too dangerous." Elphaba turned round to face her. and frowned, trying to pull away, but Glinda held her fast. "I don't want anything to happen to you," she whispered, brushing a strand of hair out of Elphaba's face.
"Glinda, it's my job, I can't just not go," Elphaba said exasperatedly. "I have to take risks. If I don't go there and catch them at it, all we have is a pack of conjectures and circumstantial evidence - and we'll be no closer to finding the Grimmerald."
"You could just send someone else?" Glinda asked desperately. "I'm still not done with you, ya know." She had pulled their bodies closer together and Elphaba could already feel her resolve beginning to weaken.
"There is no one else to send," Elphaba replied and pulled away. "I'll be careful, alright?" She looked down into Glinda's worried face and sighed. "And I promise when we come back I'll finish exactly what I started." The tone of her voice had lowered now, almost to a purr. Glinda smiled uncertainly.
"Exactly?" she asked slowly
"Just make sure my desk's clear," Elphaba winked as she swung the jacket over her shoulders and pulled it on. She completed the outfit with a round brown hat with woolly earflaps and a pair of goggles.
"No, wait," said Glinda, stopping her as she headed for the door. "Just let me..."
Elphaba paused, puzzled, as Glinda's eyes grew distant and she lay her fingertips against Elphaba's face. Glinda closed her eyes and muttered words - strange words. They seemed to hang in the air after being said, like echoes, or light imprints. It was magic, and it made Elphaba's skin tingle.
Glinda opened her eyes and smiled. "There."
Elphaba blinked, and then grabbed the little oval mirror Crope had hung on her wall. She stared in amazement at her own image. "You can do that?"
Gone were the green skin and the severe braid. Her skin was nut-brown and her hair, escaped from its bind, curled around her face, shorter and browner than it had been.
"It'll only last a few hours," said Glinda. "Glamour magic is like that. And before you ask, I never use it on myself. Point of pride."
"It's... perfect." Elphaba looked at Glinda, impressed.
"Go on," said Glinda, blushing with pleasure, "before I change my mind, turn you into a frog and pop you in my pocket."
Crope and Tibbett were still in the reception room as Elphaba exited the office proper. Their anxious expressions melted into surprise and wonder, followed by many compliments to Glinda as the cause for Elphaba's transformation was revealed. She left Tibbett chattering excitedly about glamour nights at pfaither temples, but Crope followed her into the hallway, his expression serious.
"Don't tell me you are going to get on my back about this too?" Elphaba moaned.
"Just... keep your eyes open. What I mean is - you never know who else might be involved."
"All right, all right."
"And..." he hesitated.
"What is it?" Elphaba asked, anxious to be going. The night wasn't getting any younger.
"Glinda is a very close friend of mine," Crope said. "I'm warning you - if she gets hurt you will have me to deal with."
Elphaba nodded, tipping her hat to him. "I'll keep that in mind."
As she finally left, Glinda leaned on the doorway, sighing and grinning, her eyes sparkling softly. "Isn't she something?"
Crope and Tibbett glanced at each other and burst into laughter, thus earning a glare each.
-
Steady Jemmy's generally came alive at about eleven at night. It took in all sorts regardless of species, gender or race. The main room was bustling with life. Music blared out across the floor as drink was poured down parched throats. There were quieter booths though, those reserved for Jemmy's specific guests and clientele - for business meetings. In the booth furthest to the back sat a very unlikely pair, with two others hovering nearby.
"I want my jewel, Madame," Fiyero said quickly, his two guards flexing intricately tattooed arms.
The woman opposite him curled her lips into a nasty smile. She was in her early fifties, black-dyed hair collected in an elaborate hairdo under a sophisticated bright orange hat, which despite its glitter merely made her look all the more like a wet turbot. "You forget your manners, young man. Surely all those years at Shiz were not wasted on you." She tutted, reaching for her drink and stirring the strong concoction. Jemmy's was well known for it's bizarre variety of alcoholic beverages - each culture brought in their own special addition and since the management hired staff across the board the customers could taste the best of what was on offer. The lady certainly had.
"I'm not your student anymore, Morrible," Fiyero said calmly, "and you have something that belongs to me."
"I think you'll find, dear, that it in fact belongs to me at the moment." Morrible laughed and Fiyero winced. No matter what your age, you could never really forget that laugh.
"It belongs to my people," Fiyero replied, resisting the urge to yell. "And I demand it back."
"You will not demand anything from me, boy. If you want it back you will have to pay for it," Morrible said, enjoying the frustrated look on the prince's face. "In cold, hard cash."
"And why would I pay when I can just take it back?" He didn't need to glance at his bodyguards. The power of the Winkie Prince went much further than that.
"Oh, and you know where it is, I suppose?" Madame Morrible cackled. "I have it set aside in a very safe, a very special place."
"Name your price, then, and tell us where to find it. I'm expect you are not so stupid as to try and fool me."
"No, nor as stupid as to just give my information to you before I'm paid."
"You'll not see a penny before the Grimmerald is in my hand."
"Nor after if you have your way! No. We'll meet at the bridge in the park, two nights from now. You will park your carriage at the north side of the Lyeh; I will park on the south side. We will meet in the middle. No more than two guards each and please do let us keep things... civilized." She accompanied the last word with a smug little smile, and laughed when anger flashed in the prince's eyes. "I won't have you followed if you won't have me followed, and it'll soon be over to everyone's satisfaction." She called down a passing waitress and indicated her glass. "One more of these, dear."
Over at the counter, half hidden behind the crowd, Elphaba watched the proceedings, leaning back into the shadows. The idea of her disguise had been just to let her be passed in a crowd without a second look, but it had worked so well that not even the bartender had recognized her. On occasion her newly brown fingers still went up to her hair nervously, touching it's glossy curls. She was far from used to being human-coloured, but she had a case to concentrate on.
Soon the lady and the prince both rose. Fiyero and his men sat back down as Morrible sailed through the crowd towards the exit. Elphaba detached herself from the shadows and followed, trying to keep as far from Fiyero's line of sight as possible, just in case.
The darkened street outside the nightclub was empty save for the lady's carriage and a straggling drunk or two. Elphaba waited in the doorway, attempting to overhear the destination.
"...and if anyone was anywhere near our booth, kill them," she heard and backed away quickly as a man got out from within the carriage, cocking what looked like a very large gun.
Elphaba moved swiftly back within the club, her heart pounding. Had they seen her? She couldn't afford to take the risk. There was a fire escape near the ladies' bathroom and she headed that way, very aware of the man currently standing in the doorway.
It turned out she needn't have worried. The crowds were so thick no-one could possibly notice which door she took. The fire escape stairs rattled under her as she made her way out to the quiet street behind the bar, taking in the beggar sleeping in the shadows. Everyone was suspect, but there was no gun in sight..
She'd had her confirmation of Morrible's involvement, at least. The lady had matched Glinda's description toe to tip. What she still did not have was enough information. She still did not know where or when the exchange would take place and time was running out. As soon as the jewel was in Fiyero's hand, it would be shipped off to Kiamo Ko. More than how Elphaba was going to stop it, the question now became - would she?
Disclaimer: Wicked (c) Gregory Maguire.
Rating: PG, whole fic PG-13/R.
Summary: In a slightly different Oz, Elphaba Thropp ekes out her living as a bitter private eye in the Emerald City, the bad green apple of Oz, where rain rarely lets up, crime runs rampant, and sensuous socialites wrap themselves in cigarette smoke.
Chapters: Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 / 12
Adventures in the Bad Green Apple: Blood for a Bauble
Chapter 6.
Silence descended on the room. Crope gritted his teeth. Glinda was still shaking her head, not wanting to believe what she heard.
"How dare you?" Tibbett muttered, and then shouted, "How dare you!" He ran at his employer. Elphaba dodged the blow and grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back.
"You're a good employee, Tibbs, don't ruin that now," she said into his ear, holding him as he screeched.
"Tibbett, don't!" Crope called, moving towards the pair. "Let go of him and I'll tell you what you want to know," he said, defeated. Tibbett's eyes widened as Elphaba let go of him. He stumbled out of her grasp, his gaze flickering between her and Crope, unsure where to turn.
"Glinda, I'm sorry," said Crope, not looking at her but at the floor, his face a mask of misery. "But you know I haven't a bean. When I noticed the Grimmerald hanging around your neck so casually I could hardly believe my eyes. Yet it could be nothing else."
"You mean you were not the one who lifted it from the museum?" Elphaba asked, rubbing her temple.
"How could I? I'm no cat burglar. They had that place locked up tighter than the Gale Force headquarters. Whoever took it was a professional. I suspected it had been stolen after the exhibit was suddenly canceled, but I didn't know it for a fact until I saw it boldly presented as the centerpiece of a manufacture line piece of jewelry!"
Elphaba's gaze wandered to Glinda thoughtfully. Glinda returned her gaze, blue eyes pleading. "So someone took it from the museum and placed it into Glinda's necklace and then you took it - why?"
"Money," Crope shrugged. "There was someone willing to pay for it."
"Who?" Elphaba interrupted, taking out a cigarette. This case just got more and more confusing. If Crope hadn't taken the Grimmerald - who had? Crope paused, but only for a second.
"The Grimmerald is not just a valuable jewel. Its history speaks of strange powers, the sort that also take great power to control. I found someone who could use it, who I believed could protect me if something went wrong." He turned to Tibbett with a desperate look on his face."Tibbs, please - I'm so sorry." Tibbett had crossed his arms and was currently leaning away from his lover. There were tears threatening to well up in his eyes.
"How could you? How could you?" he asked quietly. "I thought you were my perfect man - but you're nothing but a common thief!" The last word was a shouted as Tibbett pushed past Elphaba towards the door.
"Tibbett, wait! I did this for you! I wanted..." Crope looked down as Tibbett turned back to him, unable to meet the other man's eyes. "I wanted to propose - really I did, but you deserve so much better. I wanted to give you a life of luxury, wanted to spoil you rotten, really, but now I suppose it wasn't worth it."
Tibbett's brow cleared, and he stared at Crope in amazement. "You were going to propose?" he asked slowly, the information sinking in. "Really?"
"Yes," Crope answered, stepping up to Tibbett and taking his face between his hands, stroking him gently. "But not like this - not as a poor, unemployed, worthless..." He was cut off as Tibbett pulled him down for a resounding kiss, wrapping his arms around him.
"I'm not forgiving you," Tibbett said slowly when they came up for air."You were an idiot." Crope nodded sadly, kissing Tibbett's forehead. "But a very, very sweet one."
Elphaba watched the affection with conflicted feelings, not that she showed them. "As touching as this is, gentlemen, there is still the matter of who took the jewel in the first place, not to mention who you were working for and who shot the contact."
"Oh, you have no heart," said Glinda bitterly and sniffed. Elphaba was surprised to see she was dabbing her eye on an embroidered handkerchief. "I told you Crope was no crook."
Elphaba let that particular piece of misplaced self-congratulation slide as too outrageous to even challenge. "I suppose it was you who ransacked my office, too?"
Tibbett gasped. "After all my hard work!" He slapped Crope and then kissed him again. Elphaba sighed.
"You must have been looking for the Grimmerald or for any evidence I might have found that would lead you to it, am I right? You and your employer must have been desperate to recover it. Just tell me," Elphaba demanded. "Who was it?"
The world held it's breath, even the birds outside had stopped tweeting and the senseless howl of the city froze. Then the phone rang, a jingling sound that pierced the tension. Elphaba growled in frustration - a noise which made a certain member of the room feel more than a little breathless - and picked up the phone.
"Hello?" she snapped, dragging a hand through her hair. "What do you want?
"Polite as ever I see," came the clipped reply. Elphaba almost groaned. She did not need this right now.
"Look, I'm a bit busy right now, Nessie, I'm just..."
"Your case, I know, but that was what I phoned you to discuss." Elphaba rolled her eyes and resigned herself to having to listen to her sister's demands. She twitched her tie and leaned back against the desk.
"You find some information for me?" she asked and gestured for the other people in the room to amuse themselves. Glinda looked to the two men and shrugged, confused at the conversation she was forced to overhear.
"No, but I want you to have information for me," Nessa replied icily. "That is your job isn't it?"
"Not necessarily," Elphaba answered evasively. "What do you want to know?"
"The guard who was killed was one of my personal stock. My personnel tell me he has been acting a little odd recently, taking trips to the Winkie section of the city of all places." Elphaba's eyes widened and her guests looked to her. She turned away listening intently.
"And you want to know why?" Elphaba finished, twirling the phone cord between elegant fingers.
"Yes," he sister answered shortly, Elphaba could just imagine her gripping the arms of her chair in frustration at having to ask her big sister for help.
"Simple question - why do you care?" Elphaba asked, intrigued. "You didn't seem to care much when I told you he had been murdered." She heard a sigh of annoyance.
"I thought you just meant one of my stablemen or something, not one of my bodyguards. If he was conspiring against me I would like to know. I trusted that man with my life and now I find someone has killed him. I want to know, Elphaba, and you're going to tell me everything you know." There was a threatening tone to her voice now, one that Elphaba certainly didn't like.
"Oh I am, am I? And what makes you think I would do that?" Elphaba growled down the receiver, her eyes flaring.
"I am the Eminent Thropp and I order you to!" Nessarose shrieked, making Elphaba hold the phone away from her ear.
"Nice try, Nessa, but I really don't take orders from you," she told her, before placing the phone down.
She turned back to Crope, who looked up guiltily from Tibbett, and searched his face. What she saw was fear. "Just say it," she told Crope, more gently this time. "I think I already know the answer."
Crope hung his head. "I'm the least important piece in this puzzle. I don't want to die for what I tell you." He hesitated. "I..."
"It was Fiyero, wasn't it?"
Crope's mouth snapped shut. He gave Elphaba a careful look.
"He had the jewel stolen. He has the capacity - he can contact and pay for the best of the best thieves and burglars in the city." Elphaba sighed and adjusted her hat. "Tell me about the Grimmerald, Mr Crope."
"It was said to be of ancient religious importance, allegedly highly magical, and the museum's hired sorcerers did say it emanated a magical vibrancy, but what its purpose was they could not tell. The markings on it made no sense to them." He paused, and continued with a grim look on his face, "The museum anthropologists linked it to the Winkie legends of a mystical, semi-religiously viewed jewel held in Kiamo Ko that was stolen decades ago, some say by the Wizard himself... But..."
"Kiamo Ko is the ancestral home of Prince Fiyero," Elphaba said grimly. "He stole it from the museum, hid it in plain sight in his mistress's necklace and waited for the post-theft security to be relaxed. Callous, but if he thinks it advances his people that man will dare anything, for better or worse." She turned to Glinda, who was staring at her with a look that flickered between indignation and astonishment. "When you showed him the door, he had to get to the jewel back somehow. Theft was the only way. He hired an outsider to pick the jewel up from Crope to confuse the trail further. The only thing he didn't - couldn't have - expected was that someone else, a third party, knew about the exchange, knew the value of Miss Arduenna's necklace, and decided to get it at any cost - someone who wanted it badly enough not only to murder for it, but to risk the ire of the Winkie Prince, too."
"Who was it?" asked Glinda, clutching the edge of the desk in excitement.
"Someone with magical power. Someone who needed more. Someone well versed in the history of magic in Oz - someone with political clout, who had hopes of the protection of the Wizard himself."
Glinda gasped. "You don't mean... But she's your own..."
"I mean your sweet old school ma'am - Madame Morrible."
Glinda stopped, frowned, blinked, and then gave Elphaba a scrunched look of disbelief, as if she wasn't sure she got the joke. "Morrible? Really?"
"Yes," said Elphaba calmly, though her jaw was set, and she turned to address everyone in the room. "Madame Morrible, who had access to the kind of old gun that was used to shoot the liveried man. Madame Morrible, who has recently set her eyes on the Wizard himself. I read the gossip papers, too," she added with a wink to Glinda. "She knew the history of the Grimmerald, as it had been the subject of a series of lessons in Shiz the past month." Elphaba turned to one of the piles of old newspapers that still stood neatly arranged on a shelf next to the filing cabinet and rifled through it until she found the copy of The Eye on Oz she had been looking for. "Ah. Here." She pointed a lean green finger to an ad in the back of the newspaper.
Glinda sat down on the only chair in the room, holding her head. "You remembered that, just like that?"
"If there's an article about a incomparably valuable jewel that is rumoured to have been stolen, I notice it," Elphaba said, replacing the newspaper. "I am human, you know," she said more quietly, making Glinda cough and fumble for a make-up mirror to hide behind. Elphaba continued, "After recognizing the jewel at Glinda's neck, purloining it should have been a simple matter - but Crope here got to it first. The good lady must have appeared in Revolution Street soon after Glinda called her to cancel their engagement that night. She would have been eager to see if the thief could still be intercepted. I suppose she was lucky. Either that, or she had a man on the scene the whole time, who did the actual murder. I suspect the maid, at least, was in her pay all the way."
Glinda cried out in outrage. "Not Maud!"
"You must learn to be less trusting," Elphaba sighed. "You first employed her in Shiz, didn't you?"
"Ye-es..."
"Makes sense the girlfriend of the Winkie Prince would be under close scrutiny by the Wizard's political allies."
Glinda buried her face in her hands, shaking her head, in either grief or disbelief. Elphaba had the urge to put her arm around the girl, but this was no time for it, and besides, she was not a sentimental fool - she was not a lover - was she?
Glinda uncurled herself, her eyes sparking with anger. "That little bitch," she hissed. "She can forget about a reference!" Elphaba blinked, coughed, and began to pace the small room.
Tibbett and Crope were staring at the detective, one with wonder, the other with apprehension, both expectant. After a few turns to collect her thoughts, she continued, "I can imagine several reasons why Madame Morrible might have wanted the Grimmerald, but in bartering it back to Fiyero she seems to have settled for the least likely. It bothered me until I saw today's paper." She looked around for it, but then muttered, "Must have left it in the carriage. But the long an short of it is, the Wizard has announced his engagement to a twelve-year-old saint. What that means is that if the good journalists of The Ballad Weekly were correct about the Madame's hopes and ambitions of one day becoming Mrs Wizard they are now dashed. Perhaps she first meant to return the Grimmerald to the city to win his good favour and estimable hand. Perhaps she was indeed hired to do so... In either case, she seems to have decided to sell it back to the original thief, out of desperation or spite, or both. She identified herself by a code name, but quite clearly enough to be recognized by Fiyero as well as myself in the note she sent him asking him to meet her to negotiate for the jewel's return - the one that called him away from Master Boq's library. A mistake, perhaps - but then I doubt she's a professional. They are meeting tonight at Steady Jemmy's nightclub."
-
The night was falling and tea, supplied by the ever-expedient Tibbett, had been drunk when Elphaba prepared to act. She rummaged around in the pitiful wardrobe she had disguised as another file cabinet - no need to let prospective clients know she was living out of her office - trying to find something that could possibly render a green woman less conspicuous, something other than her usual attire, too, which was known all over town. Her hand fell on a short brown jacket.
"You can not be serious!" Glinda cried, pulling Elphie away from the wardrobe. "You can't go, I won't let you - it's much too dangerous." Elphaba turned round to face her. and frowned, trying to pull away, but Glinda held her fast. "I don't want anything to happen to you," she whispered, brushing a strand of hair out of Elphaba's face.
"Glinda, it's my job, I can't just not go," Elphaba said exasperatedly. "I have to take risks. If I don't go there and catch them at it, all we have is a pack of conjectures and circumstantial evidence - and we'll be no closer to finding the Grimmerald."
"You could just send someone else?" Glinda asked desperately. "I'm still not done with you, ya know." She had pulled their bodies closer together and Elphaba could already feel her resolve beginning to weaken.
"There is no one else to send," Elphaba replied and pulled away. "I'll be careful, alright?" She looked down into Glinda's worried face and sighed. "And I promise when we come back I'll finish exactly what I started." The tone of her voice had lowered now, almost to a purr. Glinda smiled uncertainly.
"Exactly?" she asked slowly
"Just make sure my desk's clear," Elphaba winked as she swung the jacket over her shoulders and pulled it on. She completed the outfit with a round brown hat with woolly earflaps and a pair of goggles.
"No, wait," said Glinda, stopping her as she headed for the door. "Just let me..."
Elphaba paused, puzzled, as Glinda's eyes grew distant and she lay her fingertips against Elphaba's face. Glinda closed her eyes and muttered words - strange words. They seemed to hang in the air after being said, like echoes, or light imprints. It was magic, and it made Elphaba's skin tingle.
Glinda opened her eyes and smiled. "There."
Elphaba blinked, and then grabbed the little oval mirror Crope had hung on her wall. She stared in amazement at her own image. "You can do that?"
Gone were the green skin and the severe braid. Her skin was nut-brown and her hair, escaped from its bind, curled around her face, shorter and browner than it had been.
"It'll only last a few hours," said Glinda. "Glamour magic is like that. And before you ask, I never use it on myself. Point of pride."
"It's... perfect." Elphaba looked at Glinda, impressed.
"Go on," said Glinda, blushing with pleasure, "before I change my mind, turn you into a frog and pop you in my pocket."
Crope and Tibbett were still in the reception room as Elphaba exited the office proper. Their anxious expressions melted into surprise and wonder, followed by many compliments to Glinda as the cause for Elphaba's transformation was revealed. She left Tibbett chattering excitedly about glamour nights at pfaither temples, but Crope followed her into the hallway, his expression serious.
"Don't tell me you are going to get on my back about this too?" Elphaba moaned.
"Just... keep your eyes open. What I mean is - you never know who else might be involved."
"All right, all right."
"And..." he hesitated.
"What is it?" Elphaba asked, anxious to be going. The night wasn't getting any younger.
"Glinda is a very close friend of mine," Crope said. "I'm warning you - if she gets hurt you will have me to deal with."
Elphaba nodded, tipping her hat to him. "I'll keep that in mind."
As she finally left, Glinda leaned on the doorway, sighing and grinning, her eyes sparkling softly. "Isn't she something?"
Crope and Tibbett glanced at each other and burst into laughter, thus earning a glare each.
-
Steady Jemmy's generally came alive at about eleven at night. It took in all sorts regardless of species, gender or race. The main room was bustling with life. Music blared out across the floor as drink was poured down parched throats. There were quieter booths though, those reserved for Jemmy's specific guests and clientele - for business meetings. In the booth furthest to the back sat a very unlikely pair, with two others hovering nearby.
"I want my jewel, Madame," Fiyero said quickly, his two guards flexing intricately tattooed arms.
The woman opposite him curled her lips into a nasty smile. She was in her early fifties, black-dyed hair collected in an elaborate hairdo under a sophisticated bright orange hat, which despite its glitter merely made her look all the more like a wet turbot. "You forget your manners, young man. Surely all those years at Shiz were not wasted on you." She tutted, reaching for her drink and stirring the strong concoction. Jemmy's was well known for it's bizarre variety of alcoholic beverages - each culture brought in their own special addition and since the management hired staff across the board the customers could taste the best of what was on offer. The lady certainly had.
"I'm not your student anymore, Morrible," Fiyero said calmly, "and you have something that belongs to me."
"I think you'll find, dear, that it in fact belongs to me at the moment." Morrible laughed and Fiyero winced. No matter what your age, you could never really forget that laugh.
"It belongs to my people," Fiyero replied, resisting the urge to yell. "And I demand it back."
"You will not demand anything from me, boy. If you want it back you will have to pay for it," Morrible said, enjoying the frustrated look on the prince's face. "In cold, hard cash."
"And why would I pay when I can just take it back?" He didn't need to glance at his bodyguards. The power of the Winkie Prince went much further than that.
"Oh, and you know where it is, I suppose?" Madame Morrible cackled. "I have it set aside in a very safe, a very special place."
"Name your price, then, and tell us where to find it. I'm expect you are not so stupid as to try and fool me."
"No, nor as stupid as to just give my information to you before I'm paid."
"You'll not see a penny before the Grimmerald is in my hand."
"Nor after if you have your way! No. We'll meet at the bridge in the park, two nights from now. You will park your carriage at the north side of the Lyeh; I will park on the south side. We will meet in the middle. No more than two guards each and please do let us keep things... civilized." She accompanied the last word with a smug little smile, and laughed when anger flashed in the prince's eyes. "I won't have you followed if you won't have me followed, and it'll soon be over to everyone's satisfaction." She called down a passing waitress and indicated her glass. "One more of these, dear."
Over at the counter, half hidden behind the crowd, Elphaba watched the proceedings, leaning back into the shadows. The idea of her disguise had been just to let her be passed in a crowd without a second look, but it had worked so well that not even the bartender had recognized her. On occasion her newly brown fingers still went up to her hair nervously, touching it's glossy curls. She was far from used to being human-coloured, but she had a case to concentrate on.
Soon the lady and the prince both rose. Fiyero and his men sat back down as Morrible sailed through the crowd towards the exit. Elphaba detached herself from the shadows and followed, trying to keep as far from Fiyero's line of sight as possible, just in case.
The darkened street outside the nightclub was empty save for the lady's carriage and a straggling drunk or two. Elphaba waited in the doorway, attempting to overhear the destination.
"...and if anyone was anywhere near our booth, kill them," she heard and backed away quickly as a man got out from within the carriage, cocking what looked like a very large gun.
Elphaba moved swiftly back within the club, her heart pounding. Had they seen her? She couldn't afford to take the risk. There was a fire escape near the ladies' bathroom and she headed that way, very aware of the man currently standing in the doorway.
It turned out she needn't have worried. The crowds were so thick no-one could possibly notice which door she took. The fire escape stairs rattled under her as she made her way out to the quiet street behind the bar, taking in the beggar sleeping in the shadows. Everyone was suspect, but there was no gun in sight..
She'd had her confirmation of Morrible's involvement, at least. The lady had matched Glinda's description toe to tip. What she still did not have was enough information. She still did not know where or when the exchange would take place and time was running out. As soon as the jewel was in Fiyero's hand, it would be shipped off to Kiamo Ko. More than how Elphaba was going to stop it, the question now became - would she?