Boss Tweed claps his hands.
“Gentlemen!” he says to the things circling in the air above. “I need a moment alone with Miss Jessalyn, please.”
Then the things are just men in suits, filing out the door. Some of them are leering at me as they go, while others are just blank-faced. That’s one way to tell which of them used to be human and which never were: the ones who used to be human can feel things other than greed.
Tweed sits down behind his desk, sets his axe down on the floor, and leans it up against the desk within easy reach.
Corruption always carries the threat of violence.
Then he gestures toward a chair that wasn’t there a moment before. “Please have a seat, Miss Jessalyn.”
I do. Then I wait. He steeples his fingers and gives me a long, assessing look. He’s probably expecting me to be upset about him summoning me like I’m one of his mooks. I am. He’s probably expecting me to make threats or wisecracks, like a certain chain-smoking trickster street mage with more balls than brains. I’m not going to. That’s not how I got where I am. There are ways to get my own back when I’m not within axe’s reach of NYC’s own Spirit of Greed. There’s always all sorts of little nuisance fees on a job like this…
Finally he decides I’m not going to throw a tantrum, and gets down to business: “Congratulations on finding your way here. All just my little test to see if you would be able to handle this job. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know that you passed.”
“I would have thought my reputation would speak for itself.”
He just laughs at that. “I made most of my money when I was alive by convincing the rubes that I cared about them. Reputation says nothing to me.”
Then he gets serious.
“There are… things on the horizon. Forces at work that are far beyond the likes of you and me. Things are going to happen. Terrible things. Disastrous things. And neither of us can stop them.”
That’s scary to hear. Boss Tweed is a spirit of greed. In New York. He’s powerful. If he can’t do anything about these “things”…
“…but we can benefit from them.”
Here we go.
“You of all people know that disasters bring opportunities. This is going to be a great and terrible disaster, with equally great opportunities. This isn’t going to be just an opportunity to pick up a few discounts, this is going to be a true realignment. These events will change the direction of New York City for decades to come…and we can decide what that direction will be.”
(He knew. Looking back now…the monster knew. And maybe we couldn’t have stopped it, but we could have done something. Makes me feel better about what happened after. Not that I felt bad before.)
“You talk like we’re going to be partners,” I say. “That doesn’t seem like your style.”
It isn’t. “Oh no,” he says. “No, no, no. Not partners. I just need your help with a Real Estate deal.”
I allow myself a smirk. “It’s always real estate with you, isn’t it?”
“This is New York,” he answers. “Nothing else is nearly as important. You know that.”
I do. “So what is it you need me for?” I ask.
“I need you to evict Bill the Butcher.”
