With the clock hands only a few ticks away from midnight, I flew up the stairs of my house into my study.
"Aha, I was right," I grinned, throwing my dingy disguise to the floor as my finger traced along some of the notes at my desk. "I should have one week."
The following morning, I was still standing in the same position when my lackey came to annoy-I mean greet me.
"Seven days isn't exactly enough time, but if I pull the right strings, I should be ready to go by next Saturday night," I muttered, underlining a name on the list in front of me.
"Huh. Using that man as a backer is a little too risky, don't you think?" Wolf mused, peering over my shoulder. "You can't be certain he won't double cross you."
"Well, he might, but-" I drew a line from the underlined name to another one circled in the top corner of the page, "-this would be our insurance."
"Hmm," Wolf drummed his fingers on the back of my chair. "I would have never thought of it, but that just might work."
"Of course you wouldn't have thought of it," I snorted, rubbing the black circles under my eyes. "That's why I'm the boss and you are the lackey."
Wolf smirked. "You know, Jer, I-"
"And I'm the maid who's going to throw all of those stupid papers into the fire if 'the boss' doesn't take a break and drink this water right now," Marissa interrupted, storming into the room with a pitcher and cup in hand.
"Yes, ma'am," I obeyed, holding the cup Marissa gave me while she filled it to the brim with cool liquid.
"Now, drink up!" she commanded.
Ah, what a kind girl. Always concerned about her master's health-
"How will I find another job that pays me this much if you die?!"
Wallet.
Always concerned about her master's wallet.
"Well, then, I'll be off," I announced, slamming the cup onto the desk after I finished chugging the contents. "It's time to go have a little chat with our backer."
"Suit yourself," Wolf yawned, flopping onto the sofa. "I think I'll have a nap."
Whack!
"Ouch! What was that for?!"
"Go nap at your own house," Marissa rolled her eyes, still brandishing her fist above the man's head.
"Sometimes I wonder who the real boss is around here," Wolf sighed, rising reluctantly to his feet. "Alright, I suppose I'll head out then as well."
Before Marissa could spew a full complaint, Wolf had slipped out the open window and disappeared into the busy streets below.
I, on the other hand, made a much less eccentric exit, and tugged an old ratty hat on as I stepped out the front door.
"Now then, shall we?" I breathed, the morning sun warming my soot-smeared cheeks.
Before an hour had passed, I made contact with my first target.
"Hey, you there! What's a scrawny boy like you doin' round here?"
"Oh, h-hello, Sir" I whirled around, keeping my head low and eyes hidden beneath the brim of my hat. "I-I'm looking for a job."
In this deplorable country, it didn't take much for a young boy with no family and no money to get hired for illegal work. The trick was getting hired for a specific kind of illegal work, which took a bit more finagling.
That's where my backer would come in.
The man's name was Humphrey Butliconi.
He was thin with dark curly hair and a sharp mustache that made his baby face look decades older.
(Honestly, I had no idea how old he really was, but if I had to guess, I'd say around mid-thirties.)
And, most importantly, he was pretty much the unofficial hiring manager for every brand of illegal trade in the city.
The only problem with working with a snake like Humphrey Butliconi is, as Wolf mentioned earlier, that you never know when he'll double cross you. The man would sell his own mother if he thought he could make a few coins.
But, there was a single person safe from his greed.
That person was his secret son, being raised by his secret lover in a secret apartment on the east side of the city.
And I, the Scandal Maker and single greatest information broker in the entire country (if I do say so myself), had already happened upon some very juicy details regarding Mr. Butliconi's son.
I'd actually learned of the boy's identity a few years ago during another case, but I've been saving such golden information for a rainy day.
Like today.
Since, ol' Humphrey was no fool, I counted on him catching onto my little act fairly quickly. After all, he sees similar 'little acts' all the time, and, being the sleazeball he is, he sends them to work as usual before secretly selling them out to the highest bidder.
I hear the King has lost quite a few spies that way, actually.
Anyway, that's where Humphrey Butliconi's secret son comes in.
All I have to do is mention the child's name. He's a smart man, so he'll know exactly what I mean. Then, after gulping in fear, he'll carry on as usual and hire me to work at the docks next Saturday per my request—minus the selling out part.
Well, it was supposed to be minus the selling out part.
But, as sleazeballs do, Mr. Butliconi just couldn't resist making an extra bit of change off my demise. Even at the risk of his biggest secret being revealed and putting his son in danger.
Long story short, that's how I ended up being ambushed that Saturday just as I was slipping into the captain's quarters to snag the logbook.
And Wolf got caught tagging along behind me 'making sure I'm safe' or whatever. (Seriously, why bother tagging along if a couple frying pans to the head is all it takes to render him completely useless?)
So there I was, stuck in the smelly brig of a ship headed straight for the open sea, and I had to somehow save both of our butts.
All in a day's work for the Scandal Maker, I suppose.
"Ah. So this is the little brat Butliconi told us about, eh?" Viscount Winthrop chuckled as he rubbed his multiple chins.
"I'd just love to watch her squirm."