22 Phoenix Place, Saturday

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal Lecter started this day the same as every day - strong coffee, good food, and the books from the day before.

The antiques and import books were on paper, in legends he went over with a fine-toothed comb. A couple occasional pieces sold for good profit, and some estate pieces with a sob story for a better profit.

The other books were in his head. Hannibal had a brain like a steel trap, and no cop could bust what he couldn't find. A few pounds of weed, some very good quality cocaine, and some of those new amphetamines, all waiting for buyers or redistributors.

Not to mention some lovely truffles, a few furs and jewels, and a gorgeous rug that customs didn't need to know about.

[OOC: Open to customers, competitors, cops, employees, and acquaintances!]

Comments

[vdistinctive]

"Boss," Spencer greeted. He probably came in through the door, but the only time you see him was walking out of the shadows. "That pencil-neck Gershwin's been sticking his nose where it doesn't belong again."

[fix-it-guy.livejournal.com]

Mike wandered, looked around, and shrugged. "Well, I got some good news and some bad news," he ventured. "Good news is, the cop -- the dame -- she's all hung up on this Wayne thing, and not likely to look our way any time soon. Bad news, there's some heat on up in Baltimore, so anything coming through the port's gonna be a little late. And then there's this kid Gershwin -- somethin's gotta be done."

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal grimaced. "Reporters. Do I need to have a talk with him? Maybe he has a secret or an expensive appetite."

[vdistinctive]

"Only appetite that kid's got is for stories. Me, I suggest we feed him one." Eliot patted Molly, the pistol under his right arm.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal leaned back in his chair. "I should congratulate Mr. Wayne for his timing."

He steepled his fingers and frowned in thought. "Tell the Baltimore harbormaster if he wants to keep his mistress in furs and his wife in the dark, he'll move my things to the front of the line. And Gershwin."

He glanced at Eliot. "That's the second time today I've heard that name. I'll take care of it."

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal's lips twitched. "Feed him what you like. Maybe his diet's deficient in lead."

[vdistinctive]

Eliot smirked. "It's amazing how often that happens. You need anything else in town, boss?"

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal thought about it. "Stop by that new restaurant. See if the proprietor needs any of my goods." He smirked. "Or incentive to buy them."

[vdistinctive]

Eliot hated sales calls. Always got his hands dirty. "Got it."

[sharp_as_knives]

Better his than Hannibal's. "Your brand of persuasion is acceptable," he said with a smirk; he knew his men. "Just remember not to kill him. Yet."

[vdistinctive]

Eliot smirked back. "Spoilsport."

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal chuckled. "Take some coffee with you to soften the blow."