Nikki drained her wine, then stood, waving me to do the same.
“Shall we have a look at your passage?”
“No way, no how.” I shook my head.
“Don’t vex me as well, Matthew. I assume you have a reason why we shouldn’t investigate.”
“Tons, most dealing with security and the number of eyes that would be on us as we went down there. Right now, whatever security they have, saw me go down, run into a dead end, then walk away. The staff, too, saw me leave. We don’t want them thinking we’re even more curious. Or worse, we don’t want them sending security after us.”
“I’m sure I could deal with anything they might muster.”
“Even with their artifacts of power?” I questioned, but before she could respond, I kept going. “But more likely, they’ll send regular security staff and call the cops. I don’t think you’d like to be tossed out of a joint like this and face a possible arrest. I’m sure that kind of hassle would vex you more than anything else.”
Nikki’s mouth compressed to a flat line, a sure sign of being vexed if ever there was one. She hadn’t expected my reasons to be so compelling against investigating. After all, my job was to investigate.
“Your logic is unfortunately accurate,” she sighed. “Not only would dealing with security and the police be an aggravation, it would almost certainly lower my status in the echelons of power, debasing myself in such a way that would likely embolden those who are already scheming.”
I hadn’t considered the political angle within the Club.
And she was right, too. I needed to start thinking along those terms, but I had never been great at the politics of things. Spade and Marlowe had dealt with basic, human drives, and while power was one of them, they rarely moved into political circles.
Maybe, just maybe there’s a way to plant some seeds of that, tonight.
“I’ve come to recognize when your mind is engaged, Matthew. Spill, as you would say.
“I think I have a cunning plan,” I grinned.