Chapter Text
The first person to say anything was Loud-Mouth Laura, who leaned across the counter at Oliver’s Place the night of St. Sneaky Pete’s Day and whispered,
“LISTEN DAN, YOU DIDN’T HEAR IT FROM ME, BUT I THINK SOMETHING IS GOING DOWN AT THE COPPERHEAD. SOMETHING BIG.”
Now, Fancy Dan (and the rest of the bar patrons, and the people next door, and the people down the street) were used to Laura’s delicate touch with gossip. Laura’s mother (Big-Mouth Beatrice) had been a reliable staple of the Gossip Guild, and her daughter had vowed to follow in her footsteps.
Needless to say, she didn't make it as far in the guild as her mother did. At this point, most of the people on the Wrong Side of the Tracks just used her voice as the signal to stop working for the day. When you could hear Laura gossiping it was time to drink, and you could hear Laura gossiping from everywhere.
Fancy Dan did his best to humor her. “You don’t say, Laura?”
“OH, I DO SAY. I SAW SOME HOT SHOTS WALK IN THERE EARLIER.”
All of the eavesdropping patrons groaned. The Copperhead Club was BUILT for hot shots. You didn’t get in unless you could prove you’re a hot shot. That's why all of us are getting sloshed at crummy old Oliver's Place, they muttered to themselves.
“Hot shots, huh, Laura?”
“YEAH, HOT SHOTS. SOMETHING IS GOING DOWN THERE, AND SOON.”
You could almost hear the other bar patrons thinking as they listened desperately for ANYTHING actually worth eavesdropping for. Come on, Laura. A stopped clock has to be right at least ONCE a day.
“You think so?” Fancy Dan said, barely listening anymore. “What makes you say that?”
“LET’S JUST SAY…I HAVE A GOOD FEELING.”
Laura winked (loudly), and everyone rolled their eyes and went back to their drinks.