The day was rather dismal for a summer day: darkening skies of the approaching evening, and a rather light rain that, despite the fact that it could be called a shower, still managed to leave a damp and musky scent in the air. Only the more homeless (or more careless) kids were roaming about the streets and alleys, as more sensible kids and mothers were staying inside to prevent a cold from setting in.
"Oh, I have no doubt on that," muttered James Worthington, keeping himself huddled inside the umbrella Jones was holding above the two of them. He had never liked the rain, how the cold droplets always somehow managed to snake into his clothes and slither down his back to make him feel all kinds of uncomfortable. "And no doubt I'll feel much better outside of the god-forsaken rain."
Jones only let out a long, patient breath. James's mutterings about the rain had been slightly annoying once upon a time, when he had first came to the man as his assistant. Compared to his partner, Jones rather liked the rain and the
pitter-patter
noises it made on the ground and on their umbrella. Now that he had a couple years to work with James, though, he had learned to tolerate and understand the other's aversion to it. "They say this one's going to be a real problem. He's got some kind of device to help him commit his crimes.""Oh, yes, yes," James rolls his eyes as they ascend the steps to enter their office. As he shakes out his coat and hangs it up, he adds. "They always come out of the woodwork with some strange new device or doohicky or what-have-you. Not that I've ever seen it do them any good when I'm put on the case."
Jones could only nod in assent at that, for it was very true. For nearly five years James had been practicing as a detective and investigator--or Private Eye, if you will--and ever since his third case he had taken the job in stride and with a sort of hard assertiveness that had made him nearly unparalleled in the craft. And by the time Jones came along to try and learn from the best, he had already heard James's name whispered by the street-ears (and sometimes by the lesser rats) in fear, loathing, reverence, and sometimes a mix of the two.
Even so, he was always apprehensive when he heard about this kind of talk. A new foe with a new "weapon" could very well mean trouble even for James despite all his prowess, and while he never tried to downplay James's success he always tried to be the devils advocate and the more cautious of the two. "Was that what they summoned you for?"
"Uh-huh," By now James had moved to his own office and had grunted loudly so Jones could hear him. "Barely a week after my last case and they call me for another. Perhaps this one will be better."
Spoiler: In the battle of wits
Spoiler: outwitted
Spoiler: Rules (Stolen from Rhinox with modifications who stole from Faraday with some modifications who stole them from Hoopla with some modifications):
