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It's always pretty quite between investigations for Murphy. It's not as if there isn't anything for the team to do - it's just that the research-and-seek-permits chunks of work aren't remotely his area of expertise. And since Caroline's been around to help he's had even less paperwork hell to help slog through, thankfully. She's much better at it than he ever was. He's taken to just hanging out in the office regardless, whenever he's not busy with some side job. (Which is, unfortunately, fairly often.)
It's just especially empty in the office this afternoon. Crane had been in earlier but had stepped out, leaving just Pendleton and Lichfield for the time being. Murphy checks on the plants and answers the phone when needed - theoretically, at least. They don't get many calls and they don't have many plants, so that's not a lot to keep him busy. And while Lichfield's busy in other parts of the office that's not something she needs his help with, really. So he pulls a chair up to one of the windows overlooking the street below and settles on playing games on his phone over the shitty wifi. It's a good place to keep an eye on things. Maybe people watch a little, but not conspicuously. Pendleton's very aware of the exact kind of neighborhood they're in. It's rough. Not the worst, but rough. Mafia turf, probably. The restaurant nearby certainly is mob-owned, judging by the types that frequent it. What particular capital-F mob family doesn't really concern him.
He pays just enough attention to make sure nothing bad is headed their way. The less he knows, the better, really.
It's still early afternoon when he spies an especially nice shiny black sedan pull up near their building. That's not really all that unusual - mob neighborhood, and all. Murphy pays it very little mind. He's got a Candy Crush level he's been stuck on for hours now. He only becomes aware of someone in the hallway just before the office door swings open.
That's a very tall handsome stranger walking in and Murphy is absolutely certain he's a mob guy. Tan skin, hawkish Italian nose, carefully slicked back black hair, nice shirt and slacks, shiny leather shoes. Really fuckin' shiny shoes. Yeah. Mafia. Probably a made guy doing well for himself, from the outfit. He's got a box tucked under an arm. Murphy discreetly texts Lichfield. caroline we got a mob guy here, if he wants to break my legs im gonna let him. Message sent.
Mr. Mafia glances around at the empty office and empty front desk before Murphy pipes up from his corner. "Hi, can I help you?"
There's a long, awkward pause while the stranger here stares down his very large nose at Murph, looking bemused. "I fuckin' hope so. Is Dr. Crane in?" He sounds good-natured about it.
"Nah, but he said he'd be back later," Murphy answers, entirely unhelpfully, he knows. "He didn't say when though." Or say anything about meeting with anyone - thanks, Crane. He continues to text Caroline, barely looking at his phone. im the worst secretary r.i.p.
Mr. Mafia chews on that for a moment. "Well. Shit," He says, closing the door behind him. "Mind if I wait?" Murphy shrugs in a nonchalant 'go ahead' kind of way - it's not like he's gonna refuse this guy. De Niro Jr, for his part, wanders over to the front desk and sets the mystery box there before taking a seat. "I brought some donuts and cannnoli," He adds after a moment. He must have noticed Murphy's squinting at it. "I didn't know if you guys" -- that was almost a 'yous guys' -- "-liked cannoli so I hedged my bets, y'know?"
"Uh...Thanks." Murphy feels stupid. He tires very hard to salvage whatever this is. "Nobody here's going to turn down pastries." Ha ha. Fuck. That's no better. This is hilariously awkward, especially for a mob run-in. This guy has the air of being important to him, but Murphy has no idea who the hell he is. And this guy knows it, too. Murphy shoots off one last text to Lichfield. baby michael corleone brought us cannoli! and donuts. get out here already if you want some because im going to eat it all before he kills me.
It's just especially empty in the office this afternoon. Crane had been in earlier but had stepped out, leaving just Pendleton and Lichfield for the time being. Murphy checks on the plants and answers the phone when needed - theoretically, at least. They don't get many calls and they don't have many plants, so that's not a lot to keep him busy. And while Lichfield's busy in other parts of the office that's not something she needs his help with, really. So he pulls a chair up to one of the windows overlooking the street below and settles on playing games on his phone over the shitty wifi. It's a good place to keep an eye on things. Maybe people watch a little, but not conspicuously. Pendleton's very aware of the exact kind of neighborhood they're in. It's rough. Not the worst, but rough. Mafia turf, probably. The restaurant nearby certainly is mob-owned, judging by the types that frequent it. What particular capital-F mob family doesn't really concern him.
He pays just enough attention to make sure nothing bad is headed their way. The less he knows, the better, really.
It's still early afternoon when he spies an especially nice shiny black sedan pull up near their building. That's not really all that unusual - mob neighborhood, and all. Murphy pays it very little mind. He's got a Candy Crush level he's been stuck on for hours now. He only becomes aware of someone in the hallway just before the office door swings open.
That's a very tall handsome stranger walking in and Murphy is absolutely certain he's a mob guy. Tan skin, hawkish Italian nose, carefully slicked back black hair, nice shirt and slacks, shiny leather shoes. Really fuckin' shiny shoes. Yeah. Mafia. Probably a made guy doing well for himself, from the outfit. He's got a box tucked under an arm. Murphy discreetly texts Lichfield. caroline we got a mob guy here, if he wants to break my legs im gonna let him. Message sent.
Mr. Mafia glances around at the empty office and empty front desk before Murphy pipes up from his corner. "Hi, can I help you?"
There's a long, awkward pause while the stranger here stares down his very large nose at Murph, looking bemused. "I fuckin' hope so. Is Dr. Crane in?" He sounds good-natured about it.
"Nah, but he said he'd be back later," Murphy answers, entirely unhelpfully, he knows. "He didn't say when though." Or say anything about meeting with anyone - thanks, Crane. He continues to text Caroline, barely looking at his phone. im the worst secretary r.i.p.
Mr. Mafia chews on that for a moment. "Well. Shit," He says, closing the door behind him. "Mind if I wait?" Murphy shrugs in a nonchalant 'go ahead' kind of way - it's not like he's gonna refuse this guy. De Niro Jr, for his part, wanders over to the front desk and sets the mystery box there before taking a seat. "I brought some donuts and cannnoli," He adds after a moment. He must have noticed Murphy's squinting at it. "I didn't know if you guys" -- that was almost a 'yous guys' -- "-liked cannoli so I hedged my bets, y'know?"
"Uh...Thanks." Murphy feels stupid. He tires very hard to salvage whatever this is. "Nobody here's going to turn down pastries." Ha ha. Fuck. That's no better. This is hilariously awkward, especially for a mob run-in. This guy has the air of being important to him, but Murphy has no idea who the hell he is. And this guy knows it, too. Murphy shoots off one last text to Lichfield. baby michael corleone brought us cannoli! and donuts. get out here already if you want some because im going to eat it all before he kills me.
