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Post by Admin on Aug 8, 2019 20:05:21 GMT
It was shaping up to be one of the more lucrative nights for Wormwood's; gamblers in the casino were liberal with their bets and eager to chase their losses while in the cafe there wasn't an empty seat and the patrons were quickly getting outside of drinks as fast as the bartenders could pour them. The troubles of the outside world were being ignored through song, chance, and inebriation.
Yes, the profits were good but it wasn't all sunny. the line outside of the door was certain to contain people unable to pay for the food and drinks they would consume, Signor Ferrari had sent three letters from the Blue Parrot wishing to discuss a matter of importance, Gerard's flagship had just anchored in the bay and no one was certain what trouble would come of it.
While sitting at his table overlooking the action Hammett feels the insistent mental pressure of tarot contact.
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Post by Hammett on Aug 8, 2019 20:53:25 GMT
Hammett siped his drink while glancing over his letter of reply to Ferrari. In it he agreed to stop by the Blue Parrot tomorrow afternoon and discuss whatever urgent matter it was this time. He disliked being "summoned" in such a way and having to meet with Ferrari at Ferrari's own place of business, but Signor Ferrari and the Blue Parrot had been in Kasaba as long as anyone could remember, definitely much longer then Hammett and Wormwood's, so the man deserved, and expected, the respect that being such a senior in the local community afforded.
Hammett sealed his reply letter and handed it off to one of his trusted staff to make sure it was delivered promptly to the Blue Parrot.
That small bit of business taken care of he finished off his drink and was about to makes his rounds, checking in on everything, and making sure no one of importance was in the club tonight that he hadn't already been informed of when he felt the pressure of someone reaching out by Trump.
He pushed back against the connection for a moment, giving himself time to pull out his trump deck. He quickly shifted through the cards attempting to see who might be trying to reach him. It was always preferable to know ahead of time. You could never be too careful these days.
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Post by Admin on Aug 9, 2019 3:28:05 GMT
The intensity of the contact increases in pressure as Hammett shuffles through his deck. While this does give him a mild headache it also makes it easier to identify the caller as Bleys. Signor Ugarte evades any guard and approaches the table while Hammett works the tarots. "Ah, Mister Hammett," he says, "Are you into the cards now? I thought chess was more your game?"Catching a look at the deck he adds: "Or are you telling fortunes for your customers these days? Needing to make a few extra dollars, yes?"
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Post by Hammett on Aug 9, 2019 17:21:50 GMT
Hammett didn't bother to hide his irritation at Ugarte's interruption, he knew it wouldn't matter anyways.
He sighed and slipped his cards back into his jacket pocket, blocking Bleys attempt at contact at the same time. He would probably pay for that later, he was pretty sure Bleys didn't liked to be ignored, even for only a few minutes.
Gerard in port. Bleys attempting to contact him. Ferrari's urgent messages and now Ugarte. Something important was going on.
"I can tell your future right now, Ugarte." He said as he settled back in his chair, "You are going to leave very quickly."
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Post by Admin on Aug 9, 2019 22:05:58 GMT
The pressure of the tarot contact shuts off like a switch. A waiter passes with a tray of drinks, Ugarty grabs one and tells the man, "I'll take another.
"You despise me, don't you Hammett? But why? I offer a service getting people out of this forsaken city and off to more pleasant climes and I charge a lot less than that Ferrari or Renault."
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Post by Hammett on Aug 9, 2019 22:49:16 GMT
"I don't despise you, Ugarte. I just don't trust you. There's a difference. But don't worry. I don't trust Ferrari or Renault, either. So it's good company to be in."
The waiter returned with Ugarte's other drink, but Hammett reached out and took it for himself. Giving Ugaret a slight cheers with the glass he took a stiff pull.
"It's a busy night. What can I do for you?"
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Post by Admin on Aug 11, 2019 15:32:33 GMT
"Just a little friendly discussion, Ham," he says unconvincingly. "I would have thought the news from today would have been of interest to you. You know, the reports of the two Amber agents killed on the train from Oran."
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Post by Hammett on Aug 11, 2019 16:45:23 GMT
Hammett hated giving Ugarte the satisfaction of seeing him surprised, but despite his attempt at control he knew his suddenly raised eyebrow gave his true feelings away.
Two dead agents. Well, that explained Gerrard and Bleys. Hammett wondered if it also explained Ferrari. If the fatman had anything to do with this it wouldn't go well for him. Of course, the killer might be sitting across the table from him right at this moment.
He tried to play it cool, but needed to know more.
"Really? What happened? And why would any fool risk doing something so dangerous? It could start a war."
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Post by Admin on Aug 14, 2019 3:39:02 GMT
"There's always someone somewhere looking to start a war." Ugarte lectures, "And there are many people who would like to know what the agents were transporting to Kasaba. Naturally, your relationship with Amber makes you a - how do you say? - person of interest to them."
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Post by Hammett on Aug 14, 2019 5:27:52 GMT
"My relationship with Amber has always been tenuous at best." He gives Ugarte a look, "Any well informed parties would know that."
He settles back in his chair and motions to the waiter hovering just outside of earshot to bring two more drinks.
"In fact I pride myself on having friends from one end of shadow to the other. Everyone is welcome at Wormwood's. Why else do you think I let you in here?"
The waiter hurries over with the drinks and Hammett takes his and gives Ugarte a slight toast.
"I also, would be interested to know what these apparent agents were carrying, and would make it well worth it to anyone with knowledge of it to share such information. Whether they were involved in the killings or not. In fact if they were, so much the better. Always best to get your information from the source."
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Post by Admin on Aug 15, 2019 19:04:57 GMT
"It's that tenuousness that makes you so interesting, Hammett. Maybe you would be the kind of person who upon gaining information wouldn't just freely hand it over to Prince Gerard, yes? Maybe you are the kind of person who would be willing to sell such information to another interested party?"
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Post by Hammett on Aug 15, 2019 21:35:29 GMT
"Maybe I'm the type of person who will do whatever profits me the most. Just like you. But that is all maybes. "
Hammett stood up and adjusted his jacket.
"What I do know is that I am a man who has no time for playing games or talking in circles. I told you I am busy. Either get to the point or go peddle your wears somewhere else."
He turns to leave.
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Post by Admin on Aug 18, 2019 1:27:50 GMT
"But Hammett, I am here to buy not sell!" Ugarte whines to Hammett's retreating back. "Everybody comes to Wormwood's and if someone happens to offer you something I know some buyers. Very deep-pocketed buyers."
Hammett's attention is caught by the doorman who is holding back the entrance of a minor Begman ambassador.
"Sir, the cafe is full. Please wait until a table is free!" the doorman says while looking for instruction from Hammett.
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Post by Hammett on Aug 18, 2019 2:52:35 GMT
Hammett turns back to Ugarte, "Ah, so that is what this is about." He gives a slight chuckle as he walks the few feet back to the man, "I have no information on any agents, living or dead. It has been such a busy day that I didn't even know about them until you told me." He puts his arm around the man's shoulders, gently, but pointedly, leading him towards the stairs down into the casino, "And as thanks, I suggest you try your luck in the casino tonight. I imagine it will be profitable." He gives another signal to the Head Croupier that Ugarte should be lucky tonight, but not too lucky, mind you.
As he sets Ugarte on his way he finishes their conversation with, "If I do hear anything, I'll be in touch."
Then he turns his attention back to the commotion at the entrance. In Wormwood's, as in most establishments of some renown, slight signals and gestures are a practiced language between staff members, capable of conveying whole conversations in moments too quick for most to catch. Hammett gives a slight motion of his head signalling to the bouncer to let the ambassador in. Another secret motion with his left hand lets the bouncer know that the ambassador should be treated well tonight. Minor ambassadors often grow to become major ones, so it never hurts to establish good relationships early on.
He turns to head back to his office when...
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Post by Admin on Aug 18, 2019 3:27:05 GMT
#s://i~ibb~co/9T7z5vz/images-q-tbn-ANd9-Gc-Tj36-D-JXSS9x4-Xi-IUSj-L-V58-uj0d-Dcf-OFe-R6ut-Mk8ne-Fycs-BI~jpg Freed from the doorman's grasp the ambassador rushes towards Hammett. "Mr. Hammett, I demand your attention in a matter of Begaman importance!" the man nearly yells, crashing into a small table on his way across the room scattering a few empty glasses and dirty plates across the floor. Many of the customers glare at uncouth man, others grumble about graceless interlopers among the once distinguished Wormwood's clientele.
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