Case Writeup:
It all began close-of-business late Autumn, when Gray's crooked brother entered his office requesting his services to track down some artifact that was stolen from him: the so-called
Lantern of Auras. This lantern was of an occult persuasion, something Gray rarely entertained these days. Not since the
Sableton Case. But this was his blood and while Gray would not trust Caravaggio if all the angels were singing his praises, he took his brother's wooden nickels and he took on the case. Call it sentimentality. Call it needing to make rent. Call it Ishmael for all the good it'll do.
The case led Gray downtown to the Atrimentum station between the city and its shadowy counterpart,
Mutnemarta. This was where the theft had gone down. A few questions in the right ears and a few quid in the right pockets and Gray was able to track down the perp to a little half-drow kid. Claimed to be sixteen, looked about twelve - cut it halfway and you'd have been right.
Kid was a little wise-head-in-training with the vocabulary of the cat's miaow. But get one of Ikey's breakfast bagels into him and let him run his mouth and he'll tell you the trade secrets of his old man's spider factory and not catch wise he'd let slip.
Kid had some kind of fixation on the occult, and a shiny little lantern just sittin' there in the second class waiting room was just too much of a temptation to pass up. But it turned out, Axel - kid's name was Axel - wasn't the only bright spark interested in that lantern. For that matter, Caravaggio wasn't the only goon after the kid. It transpired, in the years since their last barber, Gray's hombre had turned to the darkest side and was smuggling for the
Velstrac, a racket of fascist kyton eugenicists looking to make some cabbage for their demagogue by selling prohibited occult relics on the shadow market. Crumby mooks didn't even pay the kid the courtesy of letting him finish his bagel before they started pumping metal, fixing to let the daylight in.
Luckily the kid had a few tricks up his own sleeves and used some voodoo hokum to transport himself across the station as soon as the peas started shooting.
With the Velstrac on the kid's tail, and Caravaggio a shadow in the wind, it was down to Chiaroscuro to ensure this mystery didn't end in tragedy. Recognising that Axel was a mark in well over his head, Chiaroscuro decided it was better to take care of the kid now rather than risk him growing up to be a "fully graduated Palooka, with honours". The detective pulled strings, through his contact D.C. O'Malley at the fuzz, to ensure that Axel did not end up in the slammer for thievery, and slugged and googed enough of the Velstrac goons that they dusted off, at least for the present, providing some air until the next time brother dearest decided to rear his ugly mug.
