expensivebirdboy:
This was the third time that week Dick had seen the blond roaming the area. Though it wasn’t unusual for some of his or any of his friends’ customers to drop by several times a week, what did catch Dick’s attention was the fact that this particular man never seemed to do more than talk to a few of them, before heading off.
What made it even stranger and more suspicious, however, was the fact that the blond had decided to show up shortly after the reported findings of a third victim to, what the press recently decided to name, Ripper’s Rival due to the fact that whoever it was only seemed to target prostitutes.
It was enough to make Dick snort, despite the faint tinge of worry in the back of his mind. The latest victim had been male, after all.
Though he doubted this particular blond had anything to do with it. He didn’t look like he’d be able to even hurt a fly, but Dick didn’t like the slightly antsy feeling in his gut that appeared along with the other man every time he decided to drop by and, with a huff of determination, he decided that it was time to figure out just exactly what he was up to once and for all.
Plastering a playful smile on his lips, Dick slowly moved to approach the blond. He’d just finished speaking to a woman Dick faintly recalled as Honey – really, some of thee people had no imagination when it came to names – and, head tilting ever so slightly to the side and one hand settling casually on a thin hip, he lightly tapped the other male’s shoulder.
“I’ve seen you running around here all week. Can’t find anyone that suits your tastes?”
The shoulder tap almost made the blond jump, but he managed to keep it together as he turned to face him, swallowing once before looking the young man over. Hm. Interesting. So he’d been watched. This one seemed to possess more brains than some of the others that he’d spoken to, which was an enormous relief.
After all, when trying to get witness testimonies and statements, it was helpful to find someone willing to talk, first, since everyone was so afraid of questions, and being able to supply helpful answers. Hakuba was tired of hearing ‘I don’t know’ and ‘never heard of ‘im’ and ‘just what are you interested in again?’ and so on. Telling them that he was a detective hardly seemed to help, either; they usually just ran.
But this one…
Hakuba tilted his head at him, dark brown eyes searching his face as if he were trying to decide something. Yes, there was definitely something present in this boy.
“I haven’t, no…” he said, finally, not bothering at all to hide his British accent. “At least, not until now, perhaps…? Assuming that you’re available, anyway. Apologies, I’m a bit, ahem, new to this… You may have to walk me through the protocol."
