Just Like Bogey


felix_icon.gif tuck_icon.gif

Scene Title Just Like Bogey
Synopsis Felix comes to drop off some info about Jesse Carter. The Fed tries to get info about Logan from Tuck in return.
Date February 26, 2009

Tucker's Pawn Shop

It's late. Past closing for Tuck's is past midnight, closer to 1 AM most nights. The pawn shop owner is unwinding. The TV is on some cooking channel and the scent of weed hangs in the air.

There's a secretive rap on the back door. Almost the 'shave and haircut' cadence, of all things.

Tuck rolls himself out of the chair and walks with lazy, slapping bare feet towards the door. He's already dressed for bed - that is, a pair of plaid pants and a long sleeved blue t-shirt with a stretched out collar. He peeks through the peephole and adjusts the camera. He's wearing a dopey grin because of, well, the dope. There's the sound of metal screeching as he lifts the latch. "Well. If it isn't Agent Russia. Do you have some news for me, sir?"

Felix looks rather smug, as per usual. He's in contacts, rather than glasses, and dressed drably. " A bit. This Carter is an illusionist, or so I hear," he says, archly, examining his nails with an absentminded air.

Tuck holds open the door and motions in with a rather large flourish. "Entre'." Once Felix is inside, he latches the door behind him. "Oh, that part I figured out. When he made one of Logan's whores appear out of thin air. So…" he walks over and scoops up a can of pop he was drinking. He hiccups. "…what's this info gonna cost me?"

"He's got a rapsheet. Used to work with a gang of bankrobbers, made 'em look like FDIC agents so they would get in," Fel says, glancing around him reflexively. "Abigail Beauchamp. John Logan. Eileen Ruskin. Gabriel Gray. What's the word on any or all of 'em."

"So, how'd he keep from getting caught?" Tuck walks over and flops back into his armchair. He stretches out and lolls his head to the side. Utterly relaxed. He must've broken out the good stuff. The names take a second to sink in. "Uh? I can't tell you anything new, sir. Not about Eileen or Logan. I suspect you know all I could tell you. The other names? Never heard of them." He picks up another joint and lights it. After he takes a hit, it's offered out towards Felx. "It's clean."

"He did get caught," Felix says, amused. He eyes Tuck. "Tell me again, what you know. Just to be sure?" he prompts, waving away the offered drug. "Sorry, man, can't."

"You know, maybe you'd be more likable if you just…" Tuck makes a motion with his hands. "…wiggled that stick out of your ass. Just a little. Just a suggestion." There's a big grin and a fit of giggles. Yes, that's the only way to really explain it, even from a grown man. He sighs. "Eileen I've just seen around. Logan owns the whorehouse. And you don't want to fuck with him. That's all I know. Pick a different price."

"Logan….he's on the target list," Felix says, pulling a cigarette out of a pocket, and following that with a match case. He lights up without asking permission. "No comments from you about my ass, brother. Not without dinner and a movie first," he adds,sighing smoke.

"Oh don't worry. I'm on a budget. I couldn't afford the price of admission." He must be high. Normally Tuck balks at any innuendo. The comment about Logan being a target makes him laugh. "Well. Good luck. He may look like a prettyboy, but you don't want to fuck with that man. And I won't. Not that I know anything anyway."

"But you've seen Eileen around?" Fel persists, lazily. As if this were just a random meeting between friends.

Tuck sighs and rolls his eyes skyward. "I have. I've seen a lot of people around, Felix. Your point?" He shifts forward and leans on his knees. "I'm not going to help you hunt down a little girl. No matter how evil you say she is. Now. What else do you want for the info instead of the same old questions?"

Felix gives him a narrow-eyed look. "She's really got you snowed, huh. With that waif look," He just shakes his head. "You got any actual useful info?"

"I've met the girl twice. She doesn't 'have' me. I'm just not convinced she deserves to get handed over to you." Tuck tugs the glasses off his face and sets them on a table beside him. He rubs at the bridge of his nose. "You have to ask specific questions, Felix. I'm not going to go shooting myself off until I hit something you like." He lolls his head to the side and rubs at his neck. "Look. You can put this favour into the bank if you want."

"Tell me what you do know about John Logan. What's the word on the street?" Felix persists, rubbing at the bridge of his nose, rather wearily.

He's not the only one getting upset. The edge of Tuck's mouth curls downwards. "Look, I told you the word on the street. My answers aren't going to get any more illuminating the more times you ask it. You sir, are a shit-poor interrogator." He gently puts out the joint and pulls in a long breath. "For the third time, the word on the street is that you don't fuck with him. He runs whores and you don't fuck with him. I don't know any more than that."

Felix arches a brow. "No rumors? He kicks puppies, he's kind to his grandma, he's an alien from Mars?"

"No rumours, Felix." Tuck scrubs at his face. "I'm not holding out on you. Scout's honour." He holds up his hand.

Felix just eyes him for a second longer. And then turns to go, without a further word.

"What the fuck, Felix. You don't believe me?" Tuck actually sounds a bit offended. He leans forward and stares at the man's back.

"It's not your fault. I don't think you're lying," Fel says, quietly, pausing to look back, one hand already on the door frame. "I'll have to deal with Logan as best I can."

Tuck stands. He weaves a little bit as he does. He walks over towards Felix and leans against a pillar not far from the door. "If you're going after Logan? Do not go in unless it's with guns a-blazin'. You wanna know what rumour I have heard? That he'll fuck you up if you cross him. Mutilation. Dunno how much is rumours."

Felix says, even more softly, "He's holding a young woman I know. I don't know her well enough to count her a friend, but I do owe her my life several times over. I'll have to try."

"Jesus christ. You people and your hero complexes." Tuck says this half with admiration and half with intent to insult. The floppy grin reappears. "You'd make a shit-poor thug there, Felix."

All postings on all boards marked as read.

"I am a shit poor thug," Felix says, calmly. "I'm not a hero. She's a hero. She's not going to rot in some pimp's hands."

"Oh fer…" Tuck scrubs a hand through his hair. "You just need a fedora and to be in black and white and it would be like someone spat you out of a 50s crime drama." He starts to laugh. And can't quite stop it. Blame the weed.

Fel stares for a moment, obviously affronted. And then, grudgingly, first cracks a grin and then laughs. It's a rusty, unpracticed sound, but genuine.

So that really -was- Lana Turner.

Tuck splays a hand over his face and grins through the cracks in his fingers. "Think about it, bud. You're a cop shaking down the local hood for the location of a pure-hearted dame locked away in the den of a pimp. It's positively fucking theatrical."

Felix is slowly going red in sheer embarrassment. "Now that you put it that way, it does sound sort of Raymond Chandler," he concedes. "Let's hope good triumphs in the end, like it does in the movies."

"Oh now, I don't know if I should be rooting for that outcome. I mean, I'm the thug. And usually the criminal who helps the cop ends up dead, right? Can't have a bad guy live til the end." Tuck raps his fingers on the wall and grins somewhat sharkily.

"You're not a bad man. If you were purely mercenary, you'd've handed over Eileen for the reward long ago," Felix says, calmly.

"Don't mistake self preservation for conscience, Felix. I do what I do to keep my neck out of a noose, even if it looks like altruism." There's a certain note of self-depreciation in Tuck's tone. "Surviving here means not pissing off the wrong people."

"Eileen is no threat to you, and she's worth tens of thousands of dollars to the government," Fel says, with a faint sight. "Looks close enough to me. I'll talk to you later," And with that, he's out the door, and heading down the alley.

Tuck reaches out and locks the heavy door after Felix. "Tens of thousands?" he murmurs. Well now.

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