Paragon - Chapter 3: Chapter 3

We exited the vehicle and activated our concealed body cams. A few drifted in and out of a corner shop and lingered by some chained bikes. Other than that the street was quiet and filled with the smell of greasy chicken shops and tarmac.
"Number ten?" Will asked calmly beside me as we scanned the apartment faces.
"That's the one." I murmured as I checked a chipped red door and made out a scratched out number. The voices two floors above also gave me an indication that we were in the right place.
I rapped my knuckles against the chipped paint loudly and waited. Will took a stance against the wall and stared any onlookers down. It took a few minutes before I heard quick steps down a set of stairs and the door was yanked inward.
A dark skinned man with a hood drawn low stared at me with wide eyes before checking our shoulders. Young. He nodded his head inwards indicating we should enter. But by law we needed to identify–
"Detective Tara Fletcher and William Blake–"
"I know who you is. Get in quick." He rushed as he tried in vein to readjust his low hanging trousers. It did no justice there...
I turned my head to Will who held my gaze and followed me in.
The young man then made to grope my jacket. I snapped a hand out a touch too quickly for a mortal before apologising when he flinched.
"We are just here to talk, nothing else. Myself and detective Blake will listen to you but we will not be handing over any police equipment." I stressed with a long look at him. "Any information of use you provide will clear your charges of drug possession from your record. Do we have an understanding Mr Lewis?"
He lowered his hands and nodded his head before leading us into a modest living room space with a holed sofa and dipping armchair. A quick assessment of shelves and carpet told me this was his mother's house. I decided to lean against the wall as he slumped into the abused armchair.
"Gotta keep it quiet ya know? Men round these sights will shank you for less than their dog."
I stared at him patiently waiting for the information we needed. He kicked his leg against the chair in nervous habit and his heart rate matched. Though the smell of narcotics almost matched the strength of his blood. Such a young soul.
"Maybe you could start by telling us where you last met with the G17 gang members." Will provided.
Mr Lewis sniffed and his leg stilled as he glanced up at Will. "Was down in the local kebab. Chicken box with the boys." I watched him intently waiting for the skip of his heart if he lied. "They came round 2am innit. We switched papers for the baggies we shifted that's all."
"How many of the G17 attended the Chicken box last night?" He pressed, noting down as he went.
"Like three?"
"Is that a question or a statement, Mr Lewis?" He continued, writing.
"Three." He confirmed, waving him off.
"How much money was exchanged for the drugs you sold prior?" I cut in, watching his brown eyes land on me and linger in the predictable places.
"Bout 5 large." He said watching my figure instead of my eyes.
"And these were passed in a briefcase or plastic container?" I pressed, ignoring it.
"Nah we just packed stacks in a bin bag." He answered, looking at his hoodie now.
I looked at him blankly before I realised he was serious. Will noted it all away. So they were paying their drug dealers thousands inside a chicken shop with notes inside a waste bag. Outstanding. Subtle at least.
"Once the exchange was made did you meet anywhere else? Did you receive any names?"
"Nah fam, all I'm sayin is deal was in Chicken Box at 2 n' the boys dropped funds there. We ain't in it no more alright?" He started to build anxiety and I knew if we pressed him further he'd venture into hysterics or maybe anger.
"You've been extremely helpful, Mr. Lewis." I told him calmly and listened as his heart rate dropped a few beats slower. "I only have one more important question, is that okay?"
He paused watching me and then Will. He kicked his foot against the chair again before nodding. I had a certain presence that swayed mortals in a way. Nothing that could be noticeable unless I made it so.
"Did you have any other locations discussed for future drop points or meets in case you were involved again?" I stated calmly as his brown eyes darted between my bright blue.
"No. No we out. We're not dealin for them." He said a bit too quickly.
"I know you are no longer–"
"Look that's all I got. If you want more you can check Chris's joint."
"Chris?" I asked with a brow raised.
"Yeah, geezer owns the Brown Grouse pub. G17 boys get kids and roughs in from there." He told us with another hard sniff.
I dropped him a nod. "Thank you, Mr Lewis. We will hold our end and extinguish your record. But from here your future is up to you." I told him seriously as he waved us off and pulled his hood lower.
"This never came from me bruv." He cut out as he widened his legs sprawled out from the chair.
"You have my word." I confirmed as I turned for the exit with Will silently on my heels.
Progress had indeed been made. We had locations and a future meet point. Times and the shop which could be picked up by any number of CCTV. That meant number plates of vehicles and maybe even a face ID if we got very lucky–
Will shut the door carefully and began taking pictures of his notes and uploading it to our database. He then took a few quick shots of the outside house and door before turning to the cars on the street.
"Chicken Box and the Brown Grouse." He said flatly. "I'm getting hungry."
I snorted, not thinking of the same meal he was.
"Have some restraint, detective." I drawled, as I unlocked the car and we got in. "We have a chicken shop owner to question before you get your lunch."
He smirked, finishing his note uploads on his tablet before leaning back into the passenger seat more. "They always do have good fried chicken in the east." He sighed wistfully.
We ended up buying lunch at said chicken shop once the owner had been adequately interviewed. It was always so convenient how the workers suddenly struggled so much with English right up until police badges were shown... it made me wonder how deep the gangs had their claws in this borough.
Will sat in the car moaning into his fried nightmare. The grease crawled up my nose uninvited.
"C'mon just a bit?" He offered, through a mouthful.
"Absolutely not."
"You're not even vegan." He complained.
"I'm considering it." I said flicking my eyes off the tablet in my hand and towards the putrid meat. Though little did he know it was not just chicken in that oily stick...
"You know, I thought I was always the hard ass for dedication." He said through a mouthful as I pulled the car out onto the road. "But you really blow me away."
I snorted.
"Tara, seriously. I've never seen someone pull the night shifts you've done and turn up the next morning like you left your 9-5 job." He said staring at me past his chicken-not chicken thing.
"I suppose I'm a night owl." I allowed, keeping my eyes firmly on the road.
"Insomniac is more like it." He muttered.
I let it slide. There was no point in letting his mind get more creative. After all, it would never conclude that the reason I was unbothered by the night was because I was an ancient bloodsucking immortal that only needed sustenance from the stuff in his veins rather than in any bed.
It was a long day of paper work and CCTV scanning after our trip out. Intel gathering was crucial yet mundane. But hopefully in the name of shutting down one of the largest drug rings in East London for good and giving some teenagers a better path in the long run. When the darkness greeted the sky like a kiss I leant back in my office chair and stared out at the lights of the opposing glass building.
I liked to watch them. The mortals typing into their computers and taking phone calls. I had done it to the point where I could identify the mortal in the tie that would press a hand against the glass as he listened intently to his client at around 5:30pm every night. Then to the blonde that would lean over her cubicle and chat to the red haired woman excitedly. To the cleaner that would carefully poise herself and the vacuum around the edges of it all...
"Hey, you done?" Will broke my daze and leant against my door.
I pretended to stretch out my muscles and tilt my neck. "Yes, all finished for tonight."
"Good cause Jamie is taking us out." He stated without room for argument.
"I can't I have a–"
"Before you tell me about your fake plans, put some creativity into it." He called as he walked out. "Then shut the hell up and meet us downstairs!"
I sighed and pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose. I wanted nothing more than peace and something to quench the growing burn in my throat tonight. Mortals had their bars and pubs why could I not have my sanctuary? Some murderous mortal to hunt...
I smoothed down my black shirt and stood with more fluidness than any human had. I threw my overcoat onto my shoulders and pocketed my phone. I hated these glaring devices anyhow but the job required it at all times. The previous century was so much more peaceful.
"TARA!" Will complained far too aggressively beyond the door for sane taste.
I growled lowly as I strode to meet the ever demanding mortals and their senseless drinking needs beyond.