"Miss McKee, please come in."

Ivy cagily stepped into the detective's office. The grainy light of the summer sunset, blurred by the hazy banks of smog hanging over the city from the heat of the day, grazed the faded oriental rug under her feet. The office was neat, the walls mostly covered in accolades from the city and pictures with local politicians. All except for one wall where hung several framed maps of constellations.

"I'm Detective Kelly Silver," the gentleman said, extending a hand to her as he came out from behind his desk.

Her eyes grazed over his common face towards the constellations once more. His eyebrows arched as he peeked over his shoulder towards them.

"Are you a star gazer, Miss McKee?" He motioned towards the chair in front of his desk as he turned.

Ivy compliantly took a seat. "No. I was just surprised to see something like that hanging in a police station."

"You been in many police stations?" His expression was playful, one corner of his thin lips lifting, but his voice sounded serious.

With a breathy laugh, she folded her hands in her lap. "Only once."

"Yes, I know," he continued, his smile fading as he perused through a file in front of him. "Not too long ago it seems."

"Just the one time. When the theater where I danced was raided."

"It seems the judge let you off without a scratch. That's something unique in this town for a girl without any connections." He dipped a spoon into the clean, white coffee cup by his hand and stirred it. "Well. Any connections that we knew of at the time."

Ivy swallowed hard, but fought to keep a placid expression on her face. When she had left practice earlier that afternoon, she had hoped to enjoy a quiet night for once. Her headaches had gotten worse. The last thing she needed was them interfering with her dancing, especially as the night for her debut drew closer. 

She hadn't even made it a block after getting off the subway when the cop car had picked her up. The officer had been polite, but insistent. Not that she was in any place to argue. Working under a man that she suspected of being involved with bootlegging, she decided it best if she went peacefully.  

"My employer was kind enough to step in and say a good word for me... for all of us. There were quite a few dancers that were picked up that evening. I was merely one of many," she explained, trying to keep her words from cramming together out of nervousness.

"Yes. But you quickly became one in a million. I see that you are soon going to be headlining a new show at the recently renovated Gilded Cage." Detective Silver picked up his saucer and cup, sipping it casually. "That's a big step in this town."

Ivy twisted her hands in her lap. "Yes."

Silence fell between them, only interrupted by the occasional bark of laughter from an adjoining room. Ivy's eyes trailed back to the star maps, their cool blue backgrounds and familiar shapes lending gravity to the moment. 

She never should have stayed at the theater. After the Chauffeur had told her about her employer's connections, she should have resigned the next morning. It wasn't worth the chance getting thrown in jail again. This time with no chance out.

The cup tinkled as he set it back down on the desk. "Miss McKee. Would you like a cup of coffee? A cigarette?"

"No, thank you."

Detective Silver sighed. "You're not in any trouble. Don't be afraid. I'm not one of those police officers who likes to pick on girls half my age for a thrill. I have a couple daughters around your age actually." 

He turned a photo frame that sat on his desk towards her. He stood in the background with his hand on a pretty, middle aged woman's shoulder. Two young girls, teenagers from the looks of it, sat on the sofa beside their mother. It was a nice looking family. The kind Ivy would have envied when she was an adolescent living in the orphanage.

"They're pretty," she offered lamely.

"Thank you." He ran a hand over his mouth. "Miss McKee, I called you in here today because I know you don't have a family of your own. No parents to advise you. But I want to know first. What kind of a secret could you learn to live with?"

Ivy blinked at him. "Secrets?"

"Your employer. Mal Smith. He isn't everything he seems."

"What do you want from me, detective?" Ivy asked uneasily.

Silver stood from his chair. He walked over towards her and sat back on his desk. As he folded his hands in front of him, she noticed strange scars on the backs of both his hands. Like a stigmata, mimicking the nails driven into the palms of Jesus Christ on the cross. Ivy looked away, suddenly feeling stifled in the warm room.

"We find ourselves in an interesting time period, at least for law enforcement. All over the world, veterans are coming home after surviving the worst kind of hell. I know. I was there. I fought for my country like so many others. Like Mal Smith. Men who were honorable in battle, who were violent and did things I will not repeat to a young woman as yourself. They have come home and some of them have not left their darkness behind. Some are restless and are seeking chaos. Like Mal Smith."

Ivy shifted in her seat and cleared her throat. "But Mr. Smith was a war hero."

"Perhaps he was, but that doesn't make him a hero in peace time. I'll get to the point, Miss McKee. I need someone to watch him for me."

"Excuse me?"

"You would be compensated for your work, should you choose to undertake it. I'm not threatening you with jail time if you won't want to do it. But I will not be able to protect you if you say no and things go south for Mr. Smith."

Ivy wet her lips. "You want me to spy?"

"I'm asking you to be an informant. A casual one. This will be completely off the books. If things get out of hand, I'll take you out of it and send you somewhere far away."

"Well... what would I be looking for?"

"Evidence. Eye witness accounts of illegal goings-on. Any hints you can give us of when he'll be expecting shipments of contraband- now don't deny it. I know that you are aware of his business dealings."

Nodding slowly, Ivy's eyes skittered over his well meaning expression. "You say I'll have protection should anything happen?"

"I would feel a certain obligation towards you if you were to accept my offer. I would not send you to do anything I wouldn't ask my own daughters to do." He leaned towards her. "But I won't lie. This is a dangerous job. But necessary. Necessary for you. For me. For all of us."

Her brow furrowed. What could he mean by us? It was an odd choice of words. "Mal Smith is this much of a threat to the public?"

"If he were to continue in his business, in his plans we believe he'd hatching. Yes, he is dangerous."

If she were to get tangled in Mal's dealings, she could end up dead or in jail. But if she accepted the detective's offer, she could end up dead as well. But then she would also be bringing in a little more money and would be safe if Mal got nabbed by the police.

"Very well," she replied firmly.

Silver gave a faint smile and smoothed over his mustache. Ivy avoided looking at his scars. "Good. I'll be in contact with you very soon. For now, keep your ears open. Don't put yourself in danger, I'm not asking that of you. Just keep doing what you're doing."

Ivy stood, wanting desperately to leave. Something about the detective's presence disturbed her. It was a sense like she knew him from somewhere else. It was the same feeling she got from both Mal Smith and the Chauffeur. 

Thankfully, he bid her good night and showed her to the door.

What she didn't see was the man emerging from a side door to the office once she'd left. 

"That went well," the Chauffeur said, lighting himself a cigarette.

Silver nodded mutely. "Yes."

"... how are you?"

He shrugged. "I've imagined that moment my whole life. Meeting her again. I've always known what I was, since I was a child. And I've accepted it. But not knowing her whereabouts broke my heart."

The Chauffeur sniffed, pacing uncomfortably. "Well. Now you know."

"Yes."

"Are you glad?"

Silver gazed over at the constellations on the wall. "I'm not sure yet."