"Here you are." Chief Vanagand said as he dropped a stack of papers on his polished wood desk facing Grimble as he sat.
Grimble looked down at the papers. It was a police report. It's not what he came for— but he did just experience gross abuse of force and criminal negligence to a near fatal degree.
Noble in theory. But—
"You and I both know this is pointless. Dangerous, even." Grimble slid the papers back across the desk.
"Change never came harmlessly." Chief Vanagand shrugged.
Grimble tested him. He wanted to see if the Chief was as abrasive and easily triggered as his men. He wasn't so far. He actually sounded quite….
"Revolutionary. How ironic. Then again, he could've just tried to set me up passively. Not caring for the outcome regardless." Grimble thought before shrugging. "True or not, it's not what I'm here for."
"They said you were business oriented. It appears that wasn't a lie." Chief Vanagand said.
"The Twins." Grimble surmised.
"They really are completely unlike their brother. What's the Merc's name?"
"Micheal." Grimble replied. "They were split up pretty young when their parents divorced." Grimble lit a fae-wood. Another test, "You mind?"
The Chief shook his head and said no quickly before exhaling in disbeleif, "Whew, an acclaimed Wizard and Bounty-Hunter divorce sounds like hell."
"Worse." Grimble exhaled smoke and studied the man in silence.
"Again, I am sorry about earlier— out there. They're just—... hah. My goodness. They said you were a Jumper." Chief Vanagand laughed in disappointment.
The both of them knew the hilarity of it. It existed almost like an inside joke in their surrounded vessels of ignorance.
"It's because goblins are so rare. They only know through hearsay." Chief Vanagand said.
"Uh-huh." Grimble wasn't about to join in on excusing Corpsmen lack of knowledge when they had generations and entire precincts dedicated to statistics and knowledge in relation to the Races of the world and their magic.
Chief Vanagand seemed to pick up on it and nodded knowingly, "But of course, they should know better. They do know better. I guess it's a matter of facing what you know and what fits your worldview."
"What a politically correct answer." Grimble thought before nodding.
"So, what brings you here?" Chief Vanagand asked him. "I assume you're inquiring about the case, but I'm not sure what else could be told."
"Right, a routine check in." Grimble replied.
Chief Vanagand nodded, "That's what it's always been."
"Why toss it off to us now?" Grimble asked.
"We're lacking in man power and crime rates are going up. I can't have a team playing spot the civil rights activist during a vampire clan raid."
Grimble side eyed him, "This has nothing to do with the upcoming election for your spot?"
Chief Vanagand nodded, "Of course it does."
Grimble didn't expect that answer.
"The less cases, unsolved crimes and polarizing figures there are attached to my name, the safer people feel with me being here."
"Which gives you a better shot at another term." Grimble finished.
Chief Vanagand leaned back in his chair, "Is that so bad, PI Gripgold? I feel like I'm good at my job. Like I'm good for this city. Don't you feel that way about yours?"
"I feel like I have no choice. A Goblin without work is a Goblin in prison. I wouldn't last long there."
"Nobody does. But I doubt you'd be part of that statistic." Chief Vanagand pointed at him knowingly, "I didn't pick you for no reason. I bet that's one of the main reasons you're here. You think something's off. Why would a man of my stature place the public's eye on you— the public's faith, in a disgruntled Goblin."
Grimble stayed quiet, save for the embers of his fae-wood.
"I'm aware of the optics. I'm aware that it looks like the perfect set up for me to let Ms. Leonhardt be killed without blame coming to me— now that it's in your hands. There's just one thing you're missing."
"And that is?"
"This." Chief Vanagand pulled out another file and handed it to Grimble.
Grimble opened it and found plans and speech papers for a—
"Press-Release? For the Leonhardt Manhunt? What— I thought this was standard procedure?" Grimble asked.
"It is. But the public doesn't know that. We're playing it up. You're going to become dusk-havens knight in shining armor to many marginalized groups. And since she's half-fae, the elves will respect you. That includes The Governing Enclave and oligarchs of Dawn-harbor to the north. It's a risk, but it's calculated and doctored."
"I don't understand. Now I'll be connected to you no matter what. That won't help your election results." Grimble said.
Chief Vanagand laughed, "You have an illness, Gripgold."
"I'm fine."
"No. You're cynical. You doubt the ability to change in people. You haven't been given much reason to believe it." Chief Vanagand explained.
"I believe what I can see."
"Ironic." Chief Vanagand huffed.
"...true." Grimble replied, "….Do Moira and Maleena know about this?"
"Absolutely not. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"..."
"I'm going to make you the face of Goblin betterment. I'm going to make you a hero. You're going to bring in a new age of progress." Chief Vanagand said.
"Why me?"
"Your work speaks for you. You're not a pure blood— that'll help people. You don't look like the average goblin. You're palatable to the masses. You happen to have the makings of a perfect storm."
"Give me the real reason." Grimble pressed, "You don't fight this hard because you hate goblin racism. No one does. What else is it, Chief?"
Chief Vanagand laughed under his breath, "I wonder how many times your cynicism has saved you."
"…..waiting." Grimble blew smoke.
"I want Goblins on my task force."
"There it is." Grimble thought.
"Can you imagine a Goblin with jumper magic with Enforcer training? A goblin with high level Vanisher magic could make sting operations effortless. One moment it's one goblin doing a routine check in— going undercover, the next he's opening up the Green-Realm and bringing in the whole department. No wire, no tricks."
Grimble nodded. It wasn't an unheard thought. The problem was always trying to pass such a law.
"With you saving this woman— and your record of saving people, it could happen." Chief Vanagand explained.
"And if I decide I don't want to be part of this?"
"The twins said you wouldn't—"
"What happens?" Grimble pressed again.
"...."
Tension rode the winds like wraiths. His answer would largely make or break his proposal and give credence to it all being disingenuous.
"Nothing." Chief shrugged. "At least not for you. But for your kind? They stay under. Under the poverty line and the fist of many. The laws and regulations remain in place. Hatecrimes and instances of brutality continue to be disputed— celebrated even, but never brought to Justice. The twins said you have a genuine struggle turning down those in need. Are your own people any different?"
Grimble flipped through the pages of the file. It was all laid out. Every piece. Where to start, who to talk to, who to call, where to take her, what to say on the way. Just enough info to follow but not question due to huge chunks of redacted info. Just enough. Like a neat trail of breadcrumbs.
"What'll it be?" Chief asked.
"…..I'm not speaking in front of any groups. I'm not taking any political stances."
Chief Vanagand slapped his hand on the table, "That's fine. Let's do this thing."
Grimble got up and shook hands with the Chief. Then he headed for the door.
"Would you like transport to the Dusk-Haven Fae-Portal?" Chief Vanagand asked.
"No. I'm not going there."
"….where to then?"
"Rebel- grove." Grimble replied as he studied the office. No runes, no open windows, no unnatural shadows. Just a phone, a picture of the chief's wife and two sons, book cases and a hanging heavy bag.
"Where is that?— wait, that disbanded Druid foundry?" Chief asked.
"Mhm."
"You looking to run into a Dark-Fae?"
"Just following a personal lead." Grimble replied. "Keep this between us."
"Of course. I have all the reason to."
"I bet you do." Grimble thought before heading out the door.
Just like when he came in, there was only the hall leading to the elevator. No extra offices, no waiting officers. They were alone.
And Grimble laid his own bit of breadcrumbs.
He thought it over as he left the precinct, "It could still be a set-up. Vanagand's answers were too politically correct. They didn't fit his position."
His thought stream continued, "Hell, the last Chief spoke about the War on Greed like it was a good thing— like it wasn't a mass genocide against goblin-kind. That was only four years ago. I think Vanagand was lying. I think the press release could easily be faked. The moment I left that room, he could shred it up and wait comfortably now that he knows I'm pursuing this case. It was too perfect. Especially appealing to my ego. Making me a hero? What a joke. I don't trust it. My distrust will be proven if I run into trouble at Rebel-grove. I only told the chief I'm heading there. No one else out of place will be there out of fear of dark-fae or other superstitions. Not to mention it's surrounded by miles of privatized dark-elf slum-reserves. Humans aren't allowed. I'll fit in. Not much else will."