Baker and Jones Ch. 17

Cordelia sends Harold out on errand after errand, earning a disgruntled chirp and peck after his third or forth peck, contacting everyone she could within her network of informants and owed favors, trying to strike gold on an unexpected lead. Annette feels her mind race, considering as many possibilities as she could that would explain all of the available details. She settles on no less than three possible scenarios: 1) that Benton & Hayle were working to undermine the Mallet's revolution and plant false evidence; 2) that the Mallet's themselves were compromised from the beginning and being used for some nefarious goal; or 3) there was an unlikely set of impossible coincidences that produced the evidence at hand, and they were creating an explanation from nothing.

As the evening nears, Cordelia sits beside her, comparing notes and theories and allowing their shared intuitions to guide them to new possibilities. Annette lets out a sigh of relief as she finds herself truly able to keep pace with Cordelia, and for the first time in their work, it actually feels as though they are equal partners in the case. Their separate paths and agendas finally align.

Cordelia places a revolver on the floor next to her, and Annette switches between staring at it and staring at her for a long few moments. She sighs, understanding there might not be a clean or peaceful solution to the crisis at hand, and from the way that Cordelia keeps the pistol as far from her as possible, she knows the detective wouldn't allow Annette to be forced to make that choice. If there was to be blood on anyone's hands, Cordelia would suffer it.

It isn't until the evening arrives that there is a knock on the door, measured and stiff. It bounces through the house and Annette feels her stomach drop, understanding that the time was now. Today had been their calm, their last opportunity to walk away from whatever might occur. They were committed now, and there was no going back.

Annette rises and walks slowly to the door. Cordelia takes up a position beside it, out of view of the doorway, her revolver cocked and ready to fire. Annette places a trembling kiss upon her lips, then steps back into the line of the doorway, ready to face Jarl's vengeant ire. She places her palm on the doorway, takes a steadying breath, and slowly pulls it open.

"Red," a rumbling voice greets her, and Annette takes a step back to find Failinis at the door. "It's good to see you."

Her breath catches in her throat, and as she looks over him once more, the familiarity of his face suddenly comes crashing through. She couldn't be completely certain, but if she imagined the portrait aged up a decade, then the face made more rugged than regal, Failinis bore remarkable similarities to Darrius Winchester.

She shoves aside her surprise and the shaking revelation, pushing an assured confidence upon her face instead. "I was expecting someone else," she tells him. "Have you come to harm me?"

"Not at all," his beard parts to reveal a smile. "Might I come inside?"

Annette nods, stepping back to allow him to cross the threshold. As soon as he enters, Cordelia places the barrel of her revolver against his temple, pressing it threateningly into his skin. "Empty your pockets, remove your shoes. Any sudden movements will be your last."

"Have no fear, detective, I will comply," he replies calmly. Moving slowly, and in such a way that his hands are always in Annette's field of view, Failinis reveals that his pockets are empty and then carefully removes his shoes. Cordelia shoves him forward, quickly patting him down to ensure he was completely unarmed.

"Satisfied?" He smiles at her.

"Any attempt to harm her will be met with force," Cordelia threatens.

Failinis nods, then gazes over to Annette. "You have a staunch protector, Red."

Annette crosses her arms over her chest. "And she will not hesitate." She gestures for him to follow, where she guides him into a seat at the dining room table. Annette sits across from him, but Cordelia remains behind him out of his reach, pistol at the ready.

"Tell me why you are here," Annette commands, "and tell me why you've come instead of Jarl."

Failinis places his hands on the table, laying them open to continue to demonstrate he was no threat to them. "I've come with news that I hope will relieve your fears. Jarl is no longer a threat to you. He has been dealt with."

Annette leans back in her seat. "Elaborate."

Failinis complies, shifting in his chair and telling her, "I have learned of his renegade cruelty towards you, and it was the final step too far. I've tolerated his violent nature long enough, seen it as a necessary means to an end to protect us. But turning on our own like that? That is not what I want from this movement."

"Where is he now?"

"I confronted him," he explains. "I gave him an opportunity to make amends, and he resisted. He attacked me, and now he is dead." The burly man sighs, shrugging his shoulders with displeasure. "It is not an outcome I am pleased with, but I am relieved that the threat to you and your dear detective is now gone. I've come to see you."

Cordelia kicks a boot against one of the legs of his chair. "What is your business with her? You've already tossed her aside."

"I never wished to send you away," he asserts. "But Jarl and his supporters would never have tolerated it if you remained." He sits forward, careful not to let any of his movements appear threatening, and lets his eyes meet hers with a shining sincerity. "I have long respected your heart and your dedication to minimizing harm. I want to offer you a place at my side." He peeks his head up and nods at Cordelia. "With your permission, of course."

Cordelia snorts. "She requires no permission from me."

"Say I accept," Annette furrows her brow. "What am I being offered exactly? What would you have me do?"

"You would take Jarl's place," Failinis answers. "You alone seem to understand the importance of making our efforts as bloodless as possible. I regret the necessity of our earlier work, but that was simply to ensure we have the power to control the terms of conflict. We have it now."

It's quiet in the room for a moment, and he adds, "With you in Mallet's leadership, we might successfully accomplish our goals whilst keeping the peace."

Annette shares a look with Cordelia. The revelation that Failinis might indeed be Darrius Winchester leaves her unsettled, and the scope of possible deception now feels far outside of what she expected. But, they needed more information, and if Jarl was to be believed, the Mallets were about to accomplish something on a scale unlike anything they'd done before.

"I will not go alone," Annette says sternly. "You must accept Cordelia into the ranks as well."

Failinis frowns, but nods in understanding. "It may require some convincing of the others, but if that is your price, Red, I am willing to pay it."

"Beowulf," Cordelia pips up, "if there is to be a pseudonym for me."

Failinis lets a bemused grin cross his face, and he turns back to her to say, "Welcome, Beowulf."

Annette swallows her concerns, deciding to press on as best as possible. "Jarl informed me that something significant was on the horizon."

Failinis nods seriously, letting himself relax slightly at the awareness that they were now on each other's side once more. "I imagine you will find this a fitting first task for your return. In a matter of hours, Patrick, Edward, and Abrahm will be recapturing Mister Wemberly and bringing him to us."

"To do what with him?"

"Mister Wemberly is the greatest symbol and perpetrator of the collar system in Bellchester," Failinis replies, his voice brimming with his usual candor and power. "If our government will not hold him responsible for his role in this injustice, then the Mallets will. We intend to hold a public trial for him, with the people of Bellchester as our jury."

"Ambitious," Cordelia stores her pistol for the first time, though Annette is sure she keeps it in reach. "And what of the inevitable response from Captain Beckett and his police?"

"We will invite both to participate," the revolutionary seems to relax, slipping into a restful assuredness. "They are members of our city, after all. If they arrive in peace as the rest of us will, they shall enjoy equal representation of their voice. If they arrive in force, well... I have been working to shore up our union allies. We will be able to match their strength, if required."

Annette scowls. "It could turn into a bloodbath."

"Only if they instigate it."

"They will," she furrows her brow.

Failinis exhales, searching for the proper words to alleviate her concerns. "We owe it to morality to attempt an appeal to their better nature. If they neglect their shared humanity... then a revolution will begin in earnest." He allows the words to settle in the room, falling upon them light a terrifying weight. "This is why I need you, Red," he drops his voice quieter, and once again lifts his eyes to bore into hers. "You have been a voice for peace within our ranks. If we are to maintain the moral high ground, the Mallets cannot be allowed to strike first. You could convince them of that."

"They will interpret the capture of Wemberly as a first strike," Cordelia mutters to herself. Failinis ignores her.

Annette stares back at the man, feeling the heavy weight of gravity pull against her. "There... there is no turning back from this point."

He nods. "We must be an example for the world. Wealth does not buy immunity. Injustice must be called to account. If governments will not, the people will."

Cordelia shuffles in place, lifting a boot to rest it on the wall behind her. "What would you have me do within your midst?"

"I'd leave that to Red," Failinis shrugs. "I am sure your contacts and networks will be of great use to us."

"I'll devise a use for you," Annette affirms. "In the meantime, she will report to me."

"Where you need me," Cordelia smiles at her, "I'll go."

Failinis puffs out his chest and allows a resolute smile to decorate his face. "We're approaching it now, I can feel it. Day after tomorrow, the Mallets are going to change everything."

-- - -

"She keeps staring at me," Cordelia huffs, her arms folded tightly across her chest.

Annette shrugs, pacing back-and-forth in front of her and leaving her cold hands in her pockets. She pauses to briefly bump her shoulder against the detective, then continues walking. "She's simply excited for us." There's a chill blowing through the empty factory, but Annette understands that was typical of a Mallet hideout.

"I understand that," she replies, her voice filled with a mild annoyance, "but must she stare?"

"Invite her over to speak and I'm sure she'll cease."

"Am I allowed to do that?"

Annette lets out a pip of laughter. "Since when do you concern yourself with permission?"

"I am at your command."

She gazes at the detective and waves a dismissive hand, returning to her brooding focus. "I need Cordelia Jones, not a lackey."

"Not even a lackey named Beowulf?"

Annette pauses, pushing her hands deeper into the pockets of her dress and furrowing her brow. "You're doing that thing again."

"I'm doing no such thing."

"You are."

"Can you prove that?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I can," Annette rolls her eyes. "I'm pacing, and you've decided this means I am far too consumed with the task at hand, so you've elected to pick a minor gripe to voice so that I may be distracted by something less serious."

The detective nods her head and grins. "You were supposed to ask why I took the name Beowulf."

"Must I?"

"It'll cheer you up."

"I didn't realize I had such a need."

Cordelia tucks her hands behind her back, a proud smirk parting her lips. "He slays monsters, this Beowulf. And you've assisted me in combating the monsters abounding within me. It's poetic."

"Truly?"

"Nonsense," she snickers. "It's a joke. You're Red Riding Hood and his name has a homonym for 'wolf' in it. I thought it was funny."

"Ah, so you fancy yourself poised to devour me?"

"Only with permission."

Annette smirks for the first time, then quickly stifles it at Cordelia's successful ploy. She returns to pacing, crossing in front of the detective and then turning quickly on her heel, trying to allow her mind to resolve the conflict at hand.

If Failinis was Darrius, then Jarl was correct in believing there was a spy within the Mallets. Failinis, in dual roles as a nobleman and a revolutionary, would have ample access to placing influence with the police and the barons, which could explain why certain missions succeeded so often while certain others failed. However, if he was trying to capture Wemberly all along, it seems unlikely he would have been the person to tip the police off when they first attempted to kidnap him.

Likewise, it answered nothing as to the motivations and intent of the deception. She can imagine Failinis easily deflecting her concerns, simply rebutting that he was passionate about the cause even when amongst the nobility, and was cast out of his family for doing so. But, then again, he remains close with his brother. Perhaps his brother was somehow sympathetic to workers as well? He didn't seem the type when she met him, but perhaps it is a carefully crafted act to prevent fellow members of the gentry from ruining him with the scandal of labor sympathy.

And what of the connection to Arthur Hayle and the barons? If Darrius was connected to his brother Lucian, who was connected to Arthur Hayle, then Darrius must have some connection to him as well. Or Lucian was acting as well. Or Hayle was playing them both. Or Darrius was orchestrating something from within. Or Annette was missing something vital entirely.

Annette's fervor must be showing on her face, and on her next pass, Cordelia softly mutters, "She's still staring."

Annette freezes in place, locking eyes with Cordelia and seeing her gently nudge Annette to halt her spiral. She nods, accepting that she was getting nowhere in her rumination, and weakly squeezes Cordelia's arm.

"Marian?" Annette calls over her shoulder, waving to the woman across the room, "Would you come join us, please?"

Marian's face parts with a warm smile, and she exits her conversation with Guy to join the two of them on the far side of the building. As good as it was to see the two of them once more, Annette feels strange knowing she was now somehow above them in the Mallet's structure. Marian was quick to accept it, but she could tell that Guy harbored a mild suspicion.

"Good to see you again," Cordelia winks at Marian. She's blushing a little bit, and Annette feels a small, silly delight in the fact that she and Cordelia had both spent a fair amount of time with her.

Marian smiles with her, feigning a proper bow as she arrives. "At least I know you're capable of ensuring Red's needs are met," she teases. "Welcome to the Mallets."

"Has she informed you of our situation?"

"Well," Marian smiles, "you've stopped visiting the Gallery, so I assumed you'd found a new companion." She and Annette share a playful look, and Marian adds, "And she's told me nearly everything."

Cordelia places a hand on the small of Annette's back, sending a little bubble of adoration through the girl, but shakes her head. "I'm actually referring to the other situation."

Marian tilts an eyebrow. "...as in?"

"I've not updated her on this one," Annette chimes in, feeling a twinge of disappointment as Cordelia withdraws her hand. "Marian, recall that I felt there was something off when I spoke with you a few days ago?"

"I do."

"Something's off."

Marian's usual warm expression drops, and for a moment, Annette feels guilty for pulling her deeper into the Mallets in the first place. "Do you know what it is?"

Annette nods. "I don't have the full picture, but I have good reason to believe Failinis is not all that he seems."

She shuffles in place, a disconcerted scowl pouring over her face. "Red, that is not the most comforting thing to hear as I am about to barrel into revolution at his order."

"Guy?" Annette calls out across the room, feeling a decision well up inside her. "Could you join us as well?"

Guy seems to read the tension as he approaches, and Annette can feel his usual assured confidence and dedication falter for just a breath. "What can I do for you, Red?" He asks, a twinge of worry in his voice.

"I think you and Marian should stay away from the trial tomorrow," Annette crosses her arms over her chest and drops her gaze down at the floor. She doubts either of them would be particularly willing to step back, but if her instincts were right, the trial would be the most dangerous place in Bellchester come tomorrow.

"What?" Guy frowns, tilting his head as though he misheard her.

"Something's not right," she confirms, "and I respect the both of you too much to let you rush headfirst into a crisis unfolding."

Marian shoves a hand against Annette's shoulder, not threatening, but enough to convey her displeasure. "But you're willing to?"

"She's got me to watch over her," Cordelia defends over her shoulder.

"Marian," Annette says quietly, "you're so close to getting your freedom with Wilcox. You deserve that." She lifts her head enough to look over at Guy. "And you've got your wife to think about. Don't let her be a widow for nothing."

"It isn't nothing!" His scowl deepens. "We're fighting for something bigger than I ever thought was possible. I'm not leaving at our biggest moment."

Marian doesn't seem to share Guy's displeasure. Instead, she meets Annette's eyes and stares into them for a long breath, quietly asking, "Do you really think I should? I don't want to leave you in danger."

"I truly believe it's your best option," Annette promises. "I think it's your only option."

"I'm not leaving," Guy asserts.

"Guy," Annette sighs, "you stood by me and believed in me the whole way through. Even when Jarl was having me removed, you knew I was innocent of betrayal. I'm asking you, if you've ever trusted me, trust me again right now." She places a hand on either of his shoulders, and he makes an effort not to meet her eyes. "Stay home tomorrow, or at the very least, stay on the outskirts of whatever happens. If anything goes wrong, run and don't look back."

He's quiet for a tense moment, then his shoulders seem to drop in resignation. "You really think so?"

"I do."

"Okay," he nods. "I'll keep to the outskirts."

Guy tosses her a weak smile, pats her shoulder, and wanders off through the heavy doors of the factory. Whether he's simply gone for a smoke, or he's gone home, Annette isn't sure, but she's grateful he listened.

"Go be with Wilcox," Annette nudges Marian. "You deserve that happiness."

Marian doesn't speak, but she nods and places a gentle kiss on Annette's cheek, her hand carefully pressing against her jaw for a soft moment. She locks eyes with her once more, flashing a look of gratitude and respect, then departs as well.

Annette exhales a weary breath and walks out of the other door of the factory, propping herself up on a railing that overlooks one of the smaller forks in the Fennes river. She hangs her head over it, gazing at the water and letting her eyes glass over.

"You're doing the right thing, protecting them," Cordelia says quietly, leaning back to press her hips into the railing.

"I just hope we don't need them."

"Whatever happens, I'll protect you."

Annette shakes her head and looks away. "That isn't what I'm worried about."

"Then tell me."

"If we're correct, and there's some grand conspiracy afoot..." Annette sits up and leans back against the railing as well, pressing her boot into the ground as she thinks. "Cordelia, a lot of people are going to be hurt, and I'm not sure we'll have anything to show for it. We need to figure out how to counter whatever is happening."