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Post by victoriousscarf on Dec 12, 2010 23:24:31 GMT -8
A short while after Cohen left, Mac glanced up from the desk again at a certain clicking of shoes. "Ah, Cor," he said, "Come in."
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Post by Meadowlark on Dec 12, 2010 23:27:00 GMT -8
Coricopat entered, closing the door securely behind himself. "I see you're feeling better." He strolled over and settled into a chair at the side of the desk.
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Post by victoriousscarf on Dec 12, 2010 23:30:33 GMT -8
Mac raised a brow, sitting back in his own chair. "Gettin' there. On all accounts." Which was not entirely true, as whatever business he was having with Milady Griddlebone was throwing him through almost as many emotional loops as Tugger had been. He was running a crime empire. He honestly, probably did not have time for this. "So," he said, folding his paws in front of him. "Anythin' ta report?"
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Post by Meadowlark on Dec 12, 2010 23:32:55 GMT -8
"Well, the business aspect of this is running smoothly. The case involving those rum-runners started today, should be finished in a day or so. They'll be out of the way for a good while and should have gotten the message by the time they're out." He spoke smoothly as he pulled out his file. He hadn't had the chance to tend to his claws all day and it was irritating him.
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Post by victoriousscarf on Dec 12, 2010 23:42:19 GMT -8
"Good, good," Mac said, reaching over and taking the file. "Anythin' on the new accountant? How's he working out?" He eyed Cori and smirked. "Or do you need some time ta sharpen your claws first? You look twitchy."
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Post by Meadowlark on Dec 12, 2010 23:44:15 GMT -8
Coricopat glanced at the red tabby and rolled his eyes. "He's working out in that he gets it done. He's nowhere near as efficient as he could be yet, but I suppose he'll get there. He jumps every time I ask him a question though."
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Post by victoriousscarf on Dec 12, 2010 23:47:20 GMT -8
Mac kept his smirk in place. "Oh? And why would he do that? You do somethin' ta him already?"
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Post by Meadowlark on Dec 12, 2010 23:49:11 GMT -8
"No...well, I may have mentioned what happened to the last cat caught stealing from the business." He smirked a bit, his attention on his claws.
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Post by victoriousscarf on Dec 12, 2010 23:52:26 GMT -8
Mac watched Cori's claws for a moment as well. "Lemme guess, you did that while sparpening your claws ta?" He shook his head. "As lon' as he works."
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Post by Meadowlark on Dec 12, 2010 23:53:42 GMT -8
"I may have checked them, but I don't recall sharpening them around him yet." The mottled tom shrugged. "Regardless though, we shouldn't have trouble with him."
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Post by victoriousscarf on Dec 13, 2010 0:03:07 GMT -8
Mac snorted, flipping through the file before snapping it shut. "Good. Now then, I wanted ta ask you about this nephew we have runnin' around our hotel..."
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Post by Meadowlark on Dec 13, 2010 0:08:14 GMT -8
Grey eyes came up to study Mac for a moment before returning to the careful filing of Coricopat's claws. "What about him?"
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Post by victoriousscarf on Dec 13, 2010 0:14:22 GMT -8
"How the hell did he end up workin' here for starters. Secondly, if he hates Jones so much, how much information does he have, and how much do we have, and if not all of it, why not?" Mac steepled his paws, leaning back in his chair.
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Post by Meadowlark on Dec 13, 2010 0:19:11 GMT -8
"He was working as one of my informants, but due to the temperature drop and the like, wasn't going to be much use where he was. I figured we needed astute ears and eyes at the dealer positions and he's been a street magician so he knows a few card tricks that help with that job. As to how much information he has on Jones, I have yet to get it all, mostly because I didn't realize whose nephew he was until recently." The ADA carefully tested the claws of his left paw, tsking a bit when not one broke the skin.
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Post by victoriousscarf on Dec 13, 2010 0:26:29 GMT -8
"Well, I would 'et on that information gatherin' bit then. Who knows when Jones will start ta make a fuss? I'd like ta know more of what I'm gettin' into on his account." Mac leaned farther back, finally putting his feet up on the desk. "Speakin' of which, how goes the gamblin' room?"
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