spin the story

Who: Lucas and Max
Where: Lucas' office at The Echo
When: afternoon

Lucas hadn't really left the Echo since he'd met with Arienne the day before. He'd gone down to Nighthawks at one point, grabbing food and coffee, but it had been Saturday which meant, he had the Sunday edition to work on the night before, which included his front page article. At some point he'd fallen asleep on the too-short couch in his office, but when he woke up he didn't even bother to change his shirt. Instead he'd just rolled right into working on the fires, looking into what caused them. He'd left messages for Sam at the police station but as of yet she was ignoring him. Not that it had stopped him, he'd just kept digging, going through what files the Echo had on the other fires, trying to come up with what was the same and different between them and the Drake fire.

By the time afternoon rolled around he'd switched from coffee to whiskey, and was chain smoking while he worked through a follow up article for Monday's paper, typing furiously.

Max wandered the quiet halls of The Echo, munching on chocolate that he'd swiped off someone's desk and headed to his cousin's office. The talk with Ian had gone rather well, he thought. The man had proved to reveal more information than Max was sure he had intended, but then again, it took someone without emotions to recognize someone who was the same. Still, there were enough interesting things gleaned from that conversation that would keep Max with either a nice, healthy bout of leverage over the Drake's Manager, or fodder for an interesting conversation with the family.

He didn't know if he was supposed to be surprised that Lucas was still in his office. Max just knew that if you wanted to find Lucas, your best chance was his office and there the man was looking like he was badly in need of a shower. "You look like hell," Max said by way of greeting as he walked into the office without being invited. He had his fedora pushed back on his head and was picking out another piece of chocolate from the little candy dish.

Lucas was mid stream of thought, typing wildly so when Max walked in he didn't even look up. "At least I'm not hungover," he commented and finish off the paragraph, rolling the paper up so that he could read what he'd written. Literary gold as always. He deserved a Pulitzer every fucking year. Finally looking up at Max he gave his cousin a wary look. "What do you want?" he asked tone indicating that he was obviously not amused.

"What're you writing?" Max asked back instead of answering. He licked some chocolate off of his thumb and leaned his hip against the desk. This was very good chocolate.

"Follow up from today's front page story," Lucas answered, mood shifting without warning from annoyed at being bothered to preening over his own talent.

Max nodded and ate another piece of chocolate. "What do your sources say about the fire?" He did read in the paper that they believed the fire was set far away from where Ian's room was, and with how quickly it spread, Ian wouldn't have been able to have set it then get to his room, which is why Max didn't ask the man about it. Ian Sullivan set fire to his hotel? Even Max, whose logic could contort with the best of gymnasts could see how ludicrous the idea was.

Lucas smiled wickedly. The family's errand boy was coming to him for answers. How delightful. "There are rumors that it isn't connected to the other fires. That it's some sort of copycat," he offered.

"Well, it doesn't take a brain to know that much," Max said with a judging look, one that showed how simple he thought Lucas must be if he thought Max would be impressed with that piece of information. "You're meant to be useful."

"I'm always useful. Or did you not notice that the tone of the article did not sound as if the family was being attacked, but rather the building and the innocent guests," Lucas said, letting his eyes narrow some. "What more do you want?"

Max had finished the chocolate and was looking for something else to occupy himself. "I don't care about the building and the innocent guests. What I care about is who started the fire. You have your little moles. What're the muttering about?" He picked up something shiny and gold. A paperweight commending five years of service at the paper. Max wasn't going to say that he wanted to know whether or not the fire was an attack against the family or Ian Sullivan himself.

Lucas leaned back in his chair thinking over the conversation with Arienne. She wasn't one of his moles, but she'd set his conversation in the right direction. "It's a coward's attack. And though it set the family back some, it didn't cripple them in anyway. The Drake brings in plenty of money, but there's other sources and most of the family is sitting on small fortunes anyway." Reaching up he crossed his arms behind his head. "It doesn't have a feel of a directed hit, just a general attack. A weak one at that."

That didn't sound like Lucas. Max's eyes narrowed somewhat and he looked at his cousin, pausing in his tossing of the paperweight award. "That still doesn't tell me anything," he pointed out, sizing the man up and wondering where Lucas' ideas had come from. Not where, from who. "Should I go talk to that person instead?" It just didn't have that feel of Lucas in those words. It was too analytical. Lucas was analytical but in a different way. He was a storyteller. "Because that implies that it might not be a big deal at all. That makes things sound much lower scale than the family originally perceived."

"Like hell I'd tell you who my sources are," Lucas said with a bit of a growl. He didn't care if a large portion of his though process had come from Max's sister and thus the kid had easy access to her. "Though, based on that, I've been looking into who we might have pissed off lately. My guess is the arson is someone else entirely. Psychos build up from burning to killing, but slowly. First you burn empty buildings, then buildings with actual items in them and then maybe a building with squatters and then major landmark. The arson really hadn't branched out from empty buildings prior to the Drake burning." Lucas leaned forward again, reaching for his cigarette case and lighting another cigarette. "I think it's another family. Or someone we pissed off. Maybe there's a few O'Malleys left that haven't been wiped off this plane of existence yet and they think we killed them off. Maybe they want to get back at us but with limited resources they did a shitty job." He took a long drag off the cigarette blowing the smoke at the ceiling. "Speaking of O'Malleys," Lucas started, opening a drawer in his desk and retrieving a folder and dropping it on the desk so that it opened to the pictures of the dead people found near Bedlam's grounds. "These aren't yours are they?"

Max was a psychotic and he wondered if he should be offended by Lucas' statement. Regardless, he was right. The person who lit the Drake on fire was experienced... "Unless the fire wasn't meant to get out of control like it did," Max said lightly and picked up the sheef of photos to take a look. Oh right. These. "No, these are too sloppy. You'd want to ask Samantha about them. At least that's one thing she's useful for."

"As in it's targeted? Like it was supposed to take out someone in particular?" Lucas asked around his cigarette. "I know that's what she's for," he said taking the folder back. "I wanted to make sure I didn't need to make sure she didn't wind up looking for you. Spin it away, again." It was hardly the first time. In fact, Lucas was pretty sure he'd spun Max's first killing. It really was a shame that the kid was nuts. He could have been something.

That first kill. The family had already been half-whispering about the strangeness surrounding that little boy so when his teacher found him covered in flood with the other teacher dead at his feet, the family had to work fast. "As in the fire was meant to destroy property, not destroy people. It does happen." Which was playing into Max's further suspicions that this was a more targeted attack than just on the family. "And no. According to my sources, the case has broken, they're just trying to see if the killer or killers are still alive." He smiled at Lucas, teeth white and glinting, like a movie vampire. "I've been making rounds."

"Apparently you have," Lucas said with a dirty look tossed in Max's general direction. "You honestly believe that the intent wasn't to hurt people? You'd hit an office building not somewhere where people sleep at night. Tell me, think that over in your head and tell me if it makes sense." Lucas raised an eyebrow at his cousin.

Max just looked at Lucas with a blank expression, but inside he was judging him. That was what he thought Max had meant? Really? Max did not consider his logic hard to follow and with such a decorated journalist, he'd assumed that this man would understand. Then again, Max supposed, many of the stories he spun were already fed to him. Max doubted Lucas had ever written an original article. "Not unless the place is the best way to hurt the person," Max said patiently, although his face still remained blank. "Not unless the person you want to hurt has nothing else." Really. Was that so difficult? Max's face broke into a look of proud superiority after a moment. "Of course I still have to track down a few lovely people and that isn't to be told to anyone else." It was something he'd want to confirm with Arienne and then he'd go from there. Max knew how smart she was, but he could at least admit to his sister that the female mind was complicated and he wanted to make sure.

"You mean Ian Sullivan. You think that cad is worth burning down a building? Plus, besides me and you who would want to ruin that fucker anyway?" Ian was poised to slip into a place where he could take over the family that neither Lucas or Max were cut out to run. Max because he was insane and Lucas because he was himself.

"Doesn't matter if he's worth it or not. Someone else has to think it. This city is filled with those poor unfortunates who like to believe that the person who sits across from them on the bus must be their one true love, or the sullen child working at the grocer is really plotting their demise." He didn't mention Ian's run in with Dutch, the warning of crossing the wrong people, or any of that. "He's a good looking fellow. He plays nice. Wouldn't be his fault if there was someone unstable running into him. Or, on the flip side, our rampant arsonist wanted to try something bigger but fire, as it tends to, got away from him and poof!" He made little explosion signlas with his fingers. "A dozen people dead. Fire. It's a tricky thing." Max wagged his finger in warning to Lucas. "You be careful with those matches, Lukey."

Lucas took another drag of his cigarette, not answering for a long moment while he thought about the whole thing. "I still can't think of anyone who'd think he was worth it. He's boring and uptight." He finished off the cigarette and stubbed it on in a full ashtray on his desk. "Still he did get the shit kicked out of him the other day didn't he? Who do you think has it out for him?" He ignored Max's warning, flipping his lighter to light another cigarette.

Dutch Giacomo or, by a tremendous long shot, Shoshannah Hagel... or some girl he went out on a date with. "At this point I think it's Maya Walker because her favorite ball room is now half destroyed and where oh where shall she hold her fancy fundraisers." Like he was going to tell Lucas. At least, at this stage of the game.

"That's not a woman you piss off. I've thought about it, but I've seen the error of my ways," Lucas commented with a wicked smile. "But maybe that means we'll be safe from having to attend a party or two for at least a few weeks." He watched Max's eyes, which didn't tell him too much, but Lucas had a hunch the guy was holding something back.

"Mmm, I never go to parties," Max said and pulled out his silver half dollar and began running it through his fingers. He didn't sound sad or depressed about it. He didn't particularly care. He was the family's dirty secret. The broken toy that was too old to drown, with his special skills. "So I suppose it's good for you. I have more important things to worry about." He glanced at Lucas and the paper in the typewriter. "You've been moderately helpful, I suppose. I believe that means I'm meant to thank you."

Lucas shrugged. He knew full well that Max didn't attend parties. They didn't even like Lucas there all the time, but they also knew he could turn on the charm when he wanted to. "It's a two way street you know buddy. It's not like I've never helped your ass out."

Max assumed that meant that Lucas wanted something in return. That's what the 'two way street' thing meant and he nodded, pocketing his coin. "I'll let you know whether or not we have reason to believe this is connected to the other arsons," he said.It would, annoyingly, have to be approved by his superiors, but Max would let him know.

That was a good tip to have, a very good tip. "I can work with that," he said, leaning back again and blowing smoke at the ceiling. "Good to see you as always cousin."