Chapter 107. Firewhisky and Cigarettes
… Random Cafe…
… Westminster, Central London…
-*-
"You want to invite me to a gala Roxana's dad is having? Why?" Blair looked up from her fruitcake, looking very confused.
"Because we were asked to bring partners to further sell our disguises." Hazel explained.
"Uh-huh, but I'm a girl." Blair deadpanned, staring at Hazel like she had a couple of nuts loose. "You could go with West, couldn't you?" She suggested, her eyes bright.
Hazel struggled to keep her poker face in place. "Does your gender matter? And Weston isn't in this equation." She sighed. "Don't you want to see Audric? He's going to be there."
"I'm not sure." Blair shrugged, her words dripping honesty. "What use is it ripping open old wounds?"
"But then they would never heal!" Hazel exclaimed like she had stuffed too many emotions down her throat and it finally had an outlet. "You really should make the effort to see Audric, for his sake as well as yours."
Blair listened quietly, taking a sip of her tea. "There is more than one way to heal wounds, I'll go simply because you asked for my help, no other reason. Now eat up, your fruitcake is getting crusty."
Hazel swallowed her response, she didn't want Blair to take back her agreement because she said something that she wasn't supposed to.
Silence fell over their table, the air tense as the weight of their words hung over them like a cloak.
-*-
… Nox, Blackmore Alley…
Leland sat in a dark corner of an already darkened club, waiting on someone. The table in front of him was empty, as well as the other tables around him. He kept his eyes down, his hat obscuring the upper part of his face as he waited silently, his cane tapping on the marble ground.
The workers and the other clubgoers gave him a wide berth and not just because he was the owner of Nox but also because of the dark aura that seemed to cling to him, threatening to swallow anyone who came too close.
Nox was a sprawling hotel that provided everything, from clubs to pubs to whorehouses. There was a gambling house as well. It catered to a rich clientele and was technically not a part of Blackmore Alley, Blackmore Alley was more like Nox's backyard and a lot of the guests at Nox had no idea there was an entire magical space hidden away behind the hotel.
There were also a lot of foreigners at Nox, Wizards who had shady businesses and dark deals both in the Wizarding World and the Muggle world flocked to Nox. It was quickly turning into a vacation spot as a matter of fact.
There were rumors that Leland Blackburn's home was somewhere in Nox while others said that there was a tunnel or secret that led from Nox to his home. The fascination with Leland Blackburn's home was understandable as no one knew where it was, even those that had known him for years. The same way they had never seen the daughter he mentioned occasionally.
Someone walked up to his table, making Leland finally look up. "You kept me waiting." He simply said, steel underlying his voice.
"My apologies, Master Blackburn." The other man smoothly apologized, sliding into the seat across from him. "I had to make a quick stop at the factory." He said vaguely, hinting at something more.
The man brave enough to approach and speak casually with the feared Leland Blackburn was Alan Whitton. A Slough local that came upon new money by dealing with Muggles, he had the smarts and the ruthlessness to rise up the ranks and remain there.
So when he approached Leland Blackburn with a proposal to take down Rowan Roberts, Leland hadn't hesitated to agree. Not to mention, the young Wizard's plans were devious and ingenious, it was a rather interesting plan by an interesting Wizard.
"How are things going?" He leaned back so that he could stare at the Wizard across from him.
Alan quelled his body's instinctive urge to flee, he knew well that it wasn't the strobe lighting of the club casting the effect but that Master Blackburn's eyes truly had a sinister red glow to them. "Splendidly." He beamed, ignoring the glaring red flags.
Alan suddenly wished he had a drink to distract himself from Leland's eyes staring right through his skull. "The final form of the drug has been completed and the party is this weekend, all the pieces are in place, the game just has to begin."
Leland's blank expression didn't change, he didn't fully trust Alan for one. The young Wizard was smart and devious, all very useful traits but he lacked a spine, it disappointed Leland. It made him think back to the first time he personally met Audric Albeline, now that was a Wizard he had to be on the lookout for.
If only Audric would come work for him, he was certain he would be an extremely useful tool. Leland was certain though that that wasn't going to happen, he had seen it in Audric's eyes, he would work for no one. Too bad… he gave his attention back to Alan Whitton, perhaps he would prove himself useful and get rid of Audric for him.
"Rowan is certain to share samples of his Ro-Bars to the audience to prove their authenticity and when he does that, the plan will be kicked into motion." Alan concluded, looking incredibly proud of himself.
Leland cocked a brow. "And if he doesn't?"
Alan flinched. "Wha…What?"
"What will you do if doesn't share the samples with the audience?" He repeated, admiring the handle of his cane.
Alan was stunned speechless, he hadn't considered that outcome. If for some reason, Rowan Roberts chose not to share samples of his Ro-Bars at the gala, his entire plan would fold in half. It was supposed to be the final step of his plan, it couldn't go wrong.
If the samples approved by Rowan Roberts himself and given to the important guests by his orders contained dangerous substances, the best outcome for Rowan would be getting to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban. The rundown warehouse where the fake Ro-Bars were being made would be long destroyed by then, and there would be no evidence pointing to him.
"Tell you what, sneak some men in there, they could be the security, guests, workers, whatever, just get some men to infiltrate their ranks, Imperius them if you have to and if things don't go according to plan, make them take the drug instead." Leland ordered. "What you need is chaos, it doesn't matter who starts it." He rose to his feet at this. "Don't make me ask for an update next time."
Alan sat back, his eyes wide as he watched Leland walk away, his cane echoing his footsteps. The plan was brilliant as expected of someone like Master Blackburn but the sickening feel of the noose around his neck kept getting worse as the noose tightened. He felt like asking Leland for help was the first of his many bad decisions.
Alan signaled a waitress to get him a drink, hoping that burning liquor would be able to wash down the bad taste in his mouth. The die was already cast and he couldn't back out now, well he could but he doubted that Leland would let that slide.
The glasses of firewhisky he downed joined the list of bad decisions because when he stumbled out of the club by midnight, three hours after his conversation with Leland Blackburn, the bitter taste was more prominent and now he was drunk as well.
Alan Whitton leaned against a pillar in a quiet corner, taking out cigarettes from the inner pocket of his coat. He didn't trust himself to cast a proper spell in his addled state so he fumbled out a lighter that he used in the presence of Muggles.
His hand shook as he struggled to light the stick of cigarette that was slowly getting crushed in his trembling hold. Just like with the alcohol, the cigarettes helped none but he couldn't stop himself any more than he could get away from Leland.