Fic: Adventures in the Bad Green Apple: Blood for a Bauble - Chapter 1 (Wicked)
Fandom: Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West
Disclaimer: Wicked (c) Gregory Maguire.
Rating: This chapter PG-13, 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 sensual 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 1.
Rain beat down hard on the Emerald City, the bad green apple of Oz. Outside beggars would be huddling in alcoves and under oilcloth tents while the rich and well-to-do lit lamps against the intruding darkness, comfortable and fat in their complacence. Elphaba Thropp listened to the raindrops hitting her tiny office's window, a rat-tat-ta-tat like gunfire, and could not help but feel glad. The rain would wash away the stench of the day's filth.
The office was a play of shadows lit only by the small oil lamp on the desk, the brightly coloured lanterns from the Munchkinlander restaurant across the street, and occasionally by a flash of lightning. Elphaba rolled her aching shoulders, smoothed her silky black hair back under her hat and sighed, picking up her gun and starting to polish it a second time. She wasn't the tidiest of people, nor given to fancy, but her relationship with Fat Margie was a special one, and it made her forget how little work she and Margie had had recently. Her only job that month had only barely paid the rent.
Business for the private eye had been slow - it seemed all cheating husbands had been cleaning up their acts and even embezzlers were taking a holiday from doing away with their employers' money. Seemed the real crooks these days wore uniforms, and there was little Elphaba could do about their kind. She may have been an idealist once, a long time ago, but the world had just gone from bad to worse since then and all she wanted now was enough cash to buy oil for the lamp and rehire her secretary.
She finished the polish job, settled Margie back in her shoulder holster and rose to slip the old case file she'd been working on into the file cabinet, making a wild stab in the dark as to the correct folder. She locked it with a cheap charm she'd bought off a street peddler and was just preparing to pull down her cot with its often-fixed mattress from where it was folded into the closet when a light came on in the reception room.
Elphaba grinned. She hadn't thought Tibbett would be back so soon. He must have been more desperate for cash than she'd thought. She sat back down behind her desk, adjusted her tie and prepared to be passing civil and only a little magnanimous.
She was surprised to see a figure drawn in light on the glass of the door that definitely was not Tibbett's, not unless he'd been to see some exceptionally talented sorcerer. She unconsciously reached for her cigarettes as the knock came.
“Come in.”
The dame that entered more than fulfilled the promise her outline had given. She was a knockout blonde in slightly damp, clinging gown of fine velvet, all deadly curves and the aroma of money, her lovely face half-illuminated by the light from the adjoining room.
"Miss Thropp?" she said in a voice sweet and clear like a fresh summer's picnic in another world. "My name is Glinda of the Arduennas of the Upper Uplands and I desperately need your help.”
"With anything particular, or just for the time of day?" The detective leaned back in her chair and observed her prospective client, suppressing the urge to stare like some cane-sucker in a burlesque revue. "And it's Detective Thropp while I'm on duty, please."
Another roll of thunder could be heard from outside and lightning once again flooded the office with light. Elphaba's thin shoulders tightened, as if against an impact. Here it comes.
Glinda gasped. "Why you're... you're..."
"Green?" Elphaba drawled.
It was true. Her skin shone with a distinct shade of green, softer than a stalk of grass, paler than an emerald's glow, but still unmistakably green. Elphaba raised an eyebrow challengingly. "It's a skin condition. I'd prefer if we left it out of the equation."
Miss Glinda, shivering and distraught, looked for the moment to have run out of words. Who could blame her? There were plenty of diversity in the metropolis, but green women? She seemed to regain her composure quickly enough, though, and returned to her original theme. "I have a case for you, Detective," she managed, and met Elphaba's steely gaze head-on.
"That's a shocker," Elphaba muttered under her breath. She slid a cigarette out of the packet and tilted the box towards her companion. Glinda declined with a sweet smile, but Elphaba was impervious to smiles - or at least was resolute in appearing so. "So what's the case?" Elphaba asked, the cigarette in her mouth. She lit it slowly, cupping her hand around the flame so that the draft might not blow it out.
"It's my necklace, you see,” Glinda managed. Her eyes seemed drawn to the green fingers and their cargo. “A very precious thing to me. It was stolen last night," she added, looking up, seeming to remember at last that staring was rude.
"And you want me to get it back?" Elphaba asked, blowing out a puff of smoke and narrowing her eyes. "How much was it worth?"
"To me it was priceless. I loved it dearly! It went so well with this little outfit that I..."
"How much, Miss Arduenna?" Elphaba cut in sharply.
"Maybe about £500, give or take," Glinda replied a little tartly..
Elphaba hissed, taking in another slog of nicotine. "And I'll be paid for this?" she asked as the rain outside redoubled its efforts and the distant sounds of a quarrel could be heard.
"Of course, but if you'd rather not, I'm sure I cold take my business elsewhere..." Glinda turned, showing the detective a rather lovely view of her behind.
"No, no," Elphaba said quickly. Glinda smirked when she turned back, and settled herself daintily on the edge of Elphaba's desk.
"Then you'll do it?" she asked, her tone lowered slightly and eyelashes heavy. She looked like a slice of heaven in hell.
"I'll take you case, Miss," the green detective said, moving so that her hands rested on the edge of her desk.
At this proximity Glinda smelled as lovely as she looked. Her red lips quivered for a moment, but she got off the desk quickly and nodded curtly. Brushing herself down she extended a hand, her face at last breaking into a dazzling smile. “And you'll begin as soon as you can?”
Elphaba grasped her hand in a firm shake. “I think you'll find I already have.” A final crack of lightning illuminated the pair before darkness descended once more.
-
The gas lamp spluttered, too close to extinction, the light flapping against the very different faces of the two women bent over it, notepaper and pen between them. It was too late and too wet to do any actual detective work and time was of the essence. If Elphaba Thropp was to track a thief, she had to know all her client did about it. Miss Glinda answered readily and eagerly, at least at first, but the questions went on and the night grew no younger, and her impatience for bed began to show.
It turned out that Glinda had called off her evening dinner immediately upon finding her beloved necklace missing and had gone through the address book looking for a P.I. she felt she could trust, which Elphaba thought it figured would be one with a respectable last name like Thropp. She had rushed out in her going-out clothes in the rain. The bauble may have gone missing anywhere between a fortnight ago, when she had last worn it, and tonight, when she had first thought to put it on again.
"Who has access to your rooms?" Elphaba asked, as they huddled together, Elphaba tapping her pencil on her notebook impatiently.
"Oh, I'm sure none of my friends ever could...!"
"Anyone who might need money?"
"Of course some of them might be a little low on cash due to a friendly game or two too many..."
"Anyone who might hold a grudge against you?"
"Certainly not! Well, Milla was dreadfully jealous about Boq, you know - but I don't really think she was any more serious about him than I was, I mean, it was merely a harmless flirtation. At that time I was still quite in love with - oh!" Glinda's eyes grew wide. "Fiyero! Oh, it must be him!"
"Prince Fiyero of the Arjiki?" asked Elphaba, barely able to keep from groaning in exasperation. "Steal a necklace? Rumour is he's richer than the Wizard."
"Oh, he would do it just to spite me!" cried Glinda. "That arrogant man! I knew he was always secretly laughing at me behind those horrid tattoos. And he knew how I treasured that particular necklace!"
"And what have you done, then, to arouse the anger of the Winkie Prince?" Elphaba asked drily.
The fact that Glinda seemed to actually have met Fiyero was the only difference between her and all of Elphaba's other clients - whether it was a despoiled virgin or a missing heirloom, it was always the “Winkie Prince” and his tribe who were to blame. Winkies had lived in the Emerald City for as long as anyone could remember, but since the expansion of the Wizard's realm there'd been more of them - all strangely tattooed, all fiercely loyal to their families and tribes, and all of them first suspects of illegal dealings by the good, marble-complexioned people of the Jewel of Oz. Jewel! Elphaba had many names for this city, but that one would never leave her lips without curling them with disgust.
"I dumped him, that's what I did!" Glinda huffed. "And what a fool I was to ever let such a character anywhere near me! They're a clever, artful sort - all charm on the surface, but in the end they just want to add you to their collection. You know he dared to suggest marriage to me? Marriage! To be a third or fourth wife in some forsaken desert! I had a good think about that, I'll tell you. I had a good think about how fast I could have him thrown out of my rooms!"
Now Elphaba remembered Glinda's fanciful likeness in the half-penny papers, her arm linked with that of a monstrously caricatured Winkie with a tiara on his head. She could imagine the scene that had passed between them - him on his knees, offering a kingdom, her pulling back with righteous disgust, like Elphaba still could sometimes remember her own noble-born mother doing, in her dreams - in her nightmares. It was decided. However lovely Glinda of the Arduennas was, Elphaba would never like the sight of her. She was just another shallow silly socialite interested in nothing but conquests and dresses.
Elphaba liked the sight of her money, though, so she gritted her teeth and went on. "I need names, dates, reputations - everything you've got."
They sat up another hour, Glinda's answers growing slowly more irritable and her yawns longer until Elphaba was done. "I'll see you first thing in the morning," she said as she rose. "I'll want to see your rooms." It was pointless, really - by Glinda's account, just about anyone could have walked out with the necklace and half of those with opportunity also had motive. Still, she had to start somewhere.
"Oh! Certainly," said Glinda, suppressing another yawn. "Around noon, then?"
Elphaba smirked as she led Glinda to the door. "No, Miss Arduenna," she said. "Bright and early - around 7 am, say?"
"Seven!"
Elphaba closed the door on her shriek with a hurried "good night" and went to pull down her cot in a much better mood than she had an hour ago.
-
Glinda Arduenna almost fell asleep in her trap, so late it was, and so early the morning to come. Even as she lolled against the window, safely hidden in the shadows of the trap, her mind kept turning sleepily - not on the lost necklace but the detective she'd settled on. Such a bizarre woman! Not only did she dress like a man, with those high-waisted trousers, that greying blue shirt and frankly disgusting braces, but she acted like one too. Even the way she smoked was in the manner of a man - she didn't hold it like an accessory as a lady might, but as if the cigarette itself was precious.
The last image in her mind before she fell asleep was the unsettling sight of Elphaba's green-tinted, angular face at close proximity. It had made her shudder - it made her shudder now, but with what, she could not say.
-
Wind swept across the shadowed rooftop, picking up the dust and swirling it through the air. It picked up the coat tails of the roof's occupant, sending them flitting back behind him. The only light that could be seen was from a distant windows of a bulky tower hovering over the scene. The figure looked at his pocket watch before running a hand through already messy hair.
"You have it then?" A voice from behind him sent his heart racing. He resisted the urge to flinch and slowly turned to face his companion.
"That would depend entirely on who you are," the first said, swallowing deeply when he saw the size of the other man. He looked less like a man and more like a Gorilla, all muscle and very little neck. His suit was slightly too tight but he had the air of someone who had deliberately bought something two sizes too small. His face was poorly shaven and rough ginger stubble coated his chin like a minefield of dark fuzz.
"I think you want to reconsider that phrasing, don't you?" Even his voice radiated size.
The smaller man gritted his teeth. "I just needed to know that I was talking to the right person."
"You are," he replied, narrowing already tiny eyes.
"Here then, take it - and for Lurline's sake be careful, will ya?" the first man said, drawing out a small pouch from his bag. The moon sat high in her midnight kingdom, surveying the scene bellow. The distant sound of the city could be heard and around them the wind still nipped at their bodies.
A grin spread over the big man's face. "I think I'll do better than you."
The smaller man took a step back, almost stumbling, and grabbed a chimney for balance. "Please..."
The big man snorted, his breath visible in the chill night, and slipped the pouch inside his pocket, then skipped down to a lower rooftop and back down into an alleyway with ease that belied his great size. After a moment the smaller man let go of the chimney and began to make his way carefully to the fire escape, beginning a laborious climb down.
Suddenly, a shot and a scream rang out in the night. The figure on the ladder froze like a mouse that hears the owl's cry. He then began to climb down faster, breaking into a run as soon as his feet touched the ground.
The wind picked up above, howling murder.
Disclaimer: Wicked (c) Gregory Maguire.
Rating: This chapter PG-13, 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 sensual 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 1.
Rain beat down hard on the Emerald City, the bad green apple of Oz. Outside beggars would be huddling in alcoves and under oilcloth tents while the rich and well-to-do lit lamps against the intruding darkness, comfortable and fat in their complacence. Elphaba Thropp listened to the raindrops hitting her tiny office's window, a rat-tat-ta-tat like gunfire, and could not help but feel glad. The rain would wash away the stench of the day's filth.
The office was a play of shadows lit only by the small oil lamp on the desk, the brightly coloured lanterns from the Munchkinlander restaurant across the street, and occasionally by a flash of lightning. Elphaba rolled her aching shoulders, smoothed her silky black hair back under her hat and sighed, picking up her gun and starting to polish it a second time. She wasn't the tidiest of people, nor given to fancy, but her relationship with Fat Margie was a special one, and it made her forget how little work she and Margie had had recently. Her only job that month had only barely paid the rent.
Business for the private eye had been slow - it seemed all cheating husbands had been cleaning up their acts and even embezzlers were taking a holiday from doing away with their employers' money. Seemed the real crooks these days wore uniforms, and there was little Elphaba could do about their kind. She may have been an idealist once, a long time ago, but the world had just gone from bad to worse since then and all she wanted now was enough cash to buy oil for the lamp and rehire her secretary.
She finished the polish job, settled Margie back in her shoulder holster and rose to slip the old case file she'd been working on into the file cabinet, making a wild stab in the dark as to the correct folder. She locked it with a cheap charm she'd bought off a street peddler and was just preparing to pull down her cot with its often-fixed mattress from where it was folded into the closet when a light came on in the reception room.
Elphaba grinned. She hadn't thought Tibbett would be back so soon. He must have been more desperate for cash than she'd thought. She sat back down behind her desk, adjusted her tie and prepared to be passing civil and only a little magnanimous.
She was surprised to see a figure drawn in light on the glass of the door that definitely was not Tibbett's, not unless he'd been to see some exceptionally talented sorcerer. She unconsciously reached for her cigarettes as the knock came.
“Come in.”
The dame that entered more than fulfilled the promise her outline had given. She was a knockout blonde in slightly damp, clinging gown of fine velvet, all deadly curves and the aroma of money, her lovely face half-illuminated by the light from the adjoining room.
"Miss Thropp?" she said in a voice sweet and clear like a fresh summer's picnic in another world. "My name is Glinda of the Arduennas of the Upper Uplands and I desperately need your help.”
"With anything particular, or just for the time of day?" The detective leaned back in her chair and observed her prospective client, suppressing the urge to stare like some cane-sucker in a burlesque revue. "And it's Detective Thropp while I'm on duty, please."
Another roll of thunder could be heard from outside and lightning once again flooded the office with light. Elphaba's thin shoulders tightened, as if against an impact. Here it comes.
Glinda gasped. "Why you're... you're..."
"Green?" Elphaba drawled.
It was true. Her skin shone with a distinct shade of green, softer than a stalk of grass, paler than an emerald's glow, but still unmistakably green. Elphaba raised an eyebrow challengingly. "It's a skin condition. I'd prefer if we left it out of the equation."
Miss Glinda, shivering and distraught, looked for the moment to have run out of words. Who could blame her? There were plenty of diversity in the metropolis, but green women? She seemed to regain her composure quickly enough, though, and returned to her original theme. "I have a case for you, Detective," she managed, and met Elphaba's steely gaze head-on.
"That's a shocker," Elphaba muttered under her breath. She slid a cigarette out of the packet and tilted the box towards her companion. Glinda declined with a sweet smile, but Elphaba was impervious to smiles - or at least was resolute in appearing so. "So what's the case?" Elphaba asked, the cigarette in her mouth. She lit it slowly, cupping her hand around the flame so that the draft might not blow it out.
"It's my necklace, you see,” Glinda managed. Her eyes seemed drawn to the green fingers and their cargo. “A very precious thing to me. It was stolen last night," she added, looking up, seeming to remember at last that staring was rude.
"And you want me to get it back?" Elphaba asked, blowing out a puff of smoke and narrowing her eyes. "How much was it worth?"
"To me it was priceless. I loved it dearly! It went so well with this little outfit that I..."
"How much, Miss Arduenna?" Elphaba cut in sharply.
"Maybe about £500, give or take," Glinda replied a little tartly..
Elphaba hissed, taking in another slog of nicotine. "And I'll be paid for this?" she asked as the rain outside redoubled its efforts and the distant sounds of a quarrel could be heard.
"Of course, but if you'd rather not, I'm sure I cold take my business elsewhere..." Glinda turned, showing the detective a rather lovely view of her behind.
"No, no," Elphaba said quickly. Glinda smirked when she turned back, and settled herself daintily on the edge of Elphaba's desk.
"Then you'll do it?" she asked, her tone lowered slightly and eyelashes heavy. She looked like a slice of heaven in hell.
"I'll take you case, Miss," the green detective said, moving so that her hands rested on the edge of her desk.
At this proximity Glinda smelled as lovely as she looked. Her red lips quivered for a moment, but she got off the desk quickly and nodded curtly. Brushing herself down she extended a hand, her face at last breaking into a dazzling smile. “And you'll begin as soon as you can?”
Elphaba grasped her hand in a firm shake. “I think you'll find I already have.” A final crack of lightning illuminated the pair before darkness descended once more.
-
The gas lamp spluttered, too close to extinction, the light flapping against the very different faces of the two women bent over it, notepaper and pen between them. It was too late and too wet to do any actual detective work and time was of the essence. If Elphaba Thropp was to track a thief, she had to know all her client did about it. Miss Glinda answered readily and eagerly, at least at first, but the questions went on and the night grew no younger, and her impatience for bed began to show.
It turned out that Glinda had called off her evening dinner immediately upon finding her beloved necklace missing and had gone through the address book looking for a P.I. she felt she could trust, which Elphaba thought it figured would be one with a respectable last name like Thropp. She had rushed out in her going-out clothes in the rain. The bauble may have gone missing anywhere between a fortnight ago, when she had last worn it, and tonight, when she had first thought to put it on again.
"Who has access to your rooms?" Elphaba asked, as they huddled together, Elphaba tapping her pencil on her notebook impatiently.
"Oh, I'm sure none of my friends ever could...!"
"Anyone who might need money?"
"Of course some of them might be a little low on cash due to a friendly game or two too many..."
"Anyone who might hold a grudge against you?"
"Certainly not! Well, Milla was dreadfully jealous about Boq, you know - but I don't really think she was any more serious about him than I was, I mean, it was merely a harmless flirtation. At that time I was still quite in love with - oh!" Glinda's eyes grew wide. "Fiyero! Oh, it must be him!"
"Prince Fiyero of the Arjiki?" asked Elphaba, barely able to keep from groaning in exasperation. "Steal a necklace? Rumour is he's richer than the Wizard."
"Oh, he would do it just to spite me!" cried Glinda. "That arrogant man! I knew he was always secretly laughing at me behind those horrid tattoos. And he knew how I treasured that particular necklace!"
"And what have you done, then, to arouse the anger of the Winkie Prince?" Elphaba asked drily.
The fact that Glinda seemed to actually have met Fiyero was the only difference between her and all of Elphaba's other clients - whether it was a despoiled virgin or a missing heirloom, it was always the “Winkie Prince” and his tribe who were to blame. Winkies had lived in the Emerald City for as long as anyone could remember, but since the expansion of the Wizard's realm there'd been more of them - all strangely tattooed, all fiercely loyal to their families and tribes, and all of them first suspects of illegal dealings by the good, marble-complexioned people of the Jewel of Oz. Jewel! Elphaba had many names for this city, but that one would never leave her lips without curling them with disgust.
"I dumped him, that's what I did!" Glinda huffed. "And what a fool I was to ever let such a character anywhere near me! They're a clever, artful sort - all charm on the surface, but in the end they just want to add you to their collection. You know he dared to suggest marriage to me? Marriage! To be a third or fourth wife in some forsaken desert! I had a good think about that, I'll tell you. I had a good think about how fast I could have him thrown out of my rooms!"
Now Elphaba remembered Glinda's fanciful likeness in the half-penny papers, her arm linked with that of a monstrously caricatured Winkie with a tiara on his head. She could imagine the scene that had passed between them - him on his knees, offering a kingdom, her pulling back with righteous disgust, like Elphaba still could sometimes remember her own noble-born mother doing, in her dreams - in her nightmares. It was decided. However lovely Glinda of the Arduennas was, Elphaba would never like the sight of her. She was just another shallow silly socialite interested in nothing but conquests and dresses.
Elphaba liked the sight of her money, though, so she gritted her teeth and went on. "I need names, dates, reputations - everything you've got."
They sat up another hour, Glinda's answers growing slowly more irritable and her yawns longer until Elphaba was done. "I'll see you first thing in the morning," she said as she rose. "I'll want to see your rooms." It was pointless, really - by Glinda's account, just about anyone could have walked out with the necklace and half of those with opportunity also had motive. Still, she had to start somewhere.
"Oh! Certainly," said Glinda, suppressing another yawn. "Around noon, then?"
Elphaba smirked as she led Glinda to the door. "No, Miss Arduenna," she said. "Bright and early - around 7 am, say?"
"Seven!"
Elphaba closed the door on her shriek with a hurried "good night" and went to pull down her cot in a much better mood than she had an hour ago.
-
Glinda Arduenna almost fell asleep in her trap, so late it was, and so early the morning to come. Even as she lolled against the window, safely hidden in the shadows of the trap, her mind kept turning sleepily - not on the lost necklace but the detective she'd settled on. Such a bizarre woman! Not only did she dress like a man, with those high-waisted trousers, that greying blue shirt and frankly disgusting braces, but she acted like one too. Even the way she smoked was in the manner of a man - she didn't hold it like an accessory as a lady might, but as if the cigarette itself was precious.
The last image in her mind before she fell asleep was the unsettling sight of Elphaba's green-tinted, angular face at close proximity. It had made her shudder - it made her shudder now, but with what, she could not say.
-
Wind swept across the shadowed rooftop, picking up the dust and swirling it through the air. It picked up the coat tails of the roof's occupant, sending them flitting back behind him. The only light that could be seen was from a distant windows of a bulky tower hovering over the scene. The figure looked at his pocket watch before running a hand through already messy hair.
"You have it then?" A voice from behind him sent his heart racing. He resisted the urge to flinch and slowly turned to face his companion.
"That would depend entirely on who you are," the first said, swallowing deeply when he saw the size of the other man. He looked less like a man and more like a Gorilla, all muscle and very little neck. His suit was slightly too tight but he had the air of someone who had deliberately bought something two sizes too small. His face was poorly shaven and rough ginger stubble coated his chin like a minefield of dark fuzz.
"I think you want to reconsider that phrasing, don't you?" Even his voice radiated size.
The smaller man gritted his teeth. "I just needed to know that I was talking to the right person."
"You are," he replied, narrowing already tiny eyes.
"Here then, take it - and for Lurline's sake be careful, will ya?" the first man said, drawing out a small pouch from his bag. The moon sat high in her midnight kingdom, surveying the scene bellow. The distant sound of the city could be heard and around them the wind still nipped at their bodies.
A grin spread over the big man's face. "I think I'll do better than you."
The smaller man took a step back, almost stumbling, and grabbed a chimney for balance. "Please..."
The big man snorted, his breath visible in the chill night, and slipped the pouch inside his pocket, then skipped down to a lower rooftop and back down into an alleyway with ease that belied his great size. After a moment the smaller man let go of the chimney and began to make his way carefully to the fire escape, beginning a laborious climb down.
Suddenly, a shot and a scream rang out in the night. The figure on the ladder froze like a mouse that hears the owl's cry. He then began to climb down faster, breaking into a run as soon as his feet touched the ground.
The wind picked up above, howling murder.