"Your curiosity and punctuation are correct. Feel free to call me Via. It's much easier on the tongue."

She looked him over, not bothering to mask it. He'd clearly done the same and she felt an obligation to repay the inspection. 

"As far as ordering a drink in these dark and seemingly dry times, the best way to go about avoiding trouble with the FBN is to frequent their own watering hole. The only only place more crooked than Detroit is due west in Cook County."

"So," she started, stealing a glance once again at the rock on the bar. "You have my name, you have a polished black funerary rock, and you have my attention, Mr.....?"

"Yes, pardon me for not introducing myself yet. My name is Rob, Rob Oakheart. I'm, erm, I'm a business man of sorts, although not the kind that wears fancy suits to work every day. The days of  depression are long behind us and America offers many opportunities for people who dare to seize them. I seize those opportunities, whatever they might be."

Knowing he doesn't impress anyone with his vague description of his workfield Rob quickly pushes towards the subject for which he's here.

"In my line of business I encounter many young people who show interest in what we do. Some of them end up working for me, while others come to realise that packing groceries is about all the opportunities they are able to seize. Not too long ago I met a young fella on a business trip out west and he seemed quite bright and eager to work. Having nothing to call home, he followed me to my hometown of Chicago where I employed him."

Rob scanned the people around them, leaned in a bit closer and spoke quietly.

"Do you like diamonds?"

Before Via could answer, Rob backed out again and continued.
"Well, I do. And this young fella is like a diamond, but it's rough on the edges and that might turn out to be bad for business, or good, I'm not sure yet. But to learn what's the case there, I need to understand him. The thing is, he's not very talkative. Well, he talks alright, but when I try to figure out more about his past or what drives him, he kind of evades the subject."

Rob understood when Via asked how that story gave need to meet her under vague circumstances and through anonymous notes.

"Well," Rob continued. "I provide housing to my employees and one day when I came to pick him up, he didn't show. I headed inside and among his little personal possessions I found a business card. Your business card. Knowing how evasive he is, I decided to come and meet you, hoping you could shed some light on who this is, or even point me in a new direction. You see, in my business it is very important to know who you work with."

Rob reached in his worn jacket and pulled out the postcard of LA, together with the folded note he had found earlier.

"These were kept along with your business card. The LA postcard probably carries some memories for the kid. That little note mentions my intriguing associate. Theirs also mention of some other fella, hard to communicate with apparently. They make little connection to me, but perhaps they do to you."

She listened, not interrupting. Her eyes once again darted to the rock on the bar, and during one of Mr. Oakheart's pauses she picked it up. It had no distinguishing marks. Just smooth, polished surfaces and a deeply unnatural black color. She had left four similar stones at the funerals of her business associates. One died in a tragic accident, another in his sleep. The third had met an untimely end that Via had lined pocket with obscene amounts to ensure would not be traced back her, and the last was Charlie. A lump formed in her throat nearly as large as the polished stone she held. 

"May I?" she asked, the fingers not cradling the stone extended slightly toward the note he held. "I'm afraid while I'm a bit conservative these days handing out my card given the labor shortage and the striking down at the docks, I haven't always been. So just having one of my cards doesn't ring any bells."

"But I can't say as I'll be any help. My own business endeavors require discretion. I'm a purveyor of art and rare antiquities." It wasn't a lie, not at all. It just wasn't anywhere near the whole truth and nothing but. "My clients pay a great deal of money for anonymity and being in the business of not asking questions bleeds out into my employment as well. So long as my employees are doing as they should, I aspire to know as little of their personal lives as I can. All but one of my employees have been stellar, and the outlier? She'll never work in Detroit again."

Rob noticed the note was already torn at some of the edges when he unfolded it. Reading it once more Rob was in doubt whether to share it with Via. She just mentioned one Charlie as well and Rob wasn't sure whether she might be offended about the tone in the note. He placed the note on the bar, rested two fingers on it for a brief moment and then slid it in front of Via.

"I'm done with you, Charlie. There's nothing more you can offer me anymore, what the fuck did you think a mute could offer anyway? I know it's your job to look after me, but I can take care of myself now. And I don't need a big dumb"
 

"That's it? Where's the rest?" Via asked.
"I'm afraid that's it. I guess the note never got finished." Rob replied, knowing he didn't gave Via much to work with.
"Listen, I understand that this must all be very vague. I had hopes that either you or this man, this Charlie, would be able to give a little bit of insight into who I'm working with. I'm sure you must be as riddled about this as I am."

Rob sighed and looked at the empty glass. He wasn't in the mood for another drink. After a brief moment he turned to Via.

"Realising how little it is to go on, does the note mean anything to you? Does the name Charlie ring any bells, and if so, do you know where I can find him?"

She paused for a very long time with thoughts of Charlie swimming in her head and her next words mulling in her mouth like a crisp refreshing wines with notes of sweetness and an aftertaste that left her somewhat sad; disappointed even.

"Yes, the name Charlie does ring some bells. And it opens an old wound. Charlie used to be in my employ. I won't beat around the bush, Mr. Oakheart. I've heard your name before, and not on the social register. And I'm sure that mine has been uttered by the less than aristocratic crowd. Whatever dalliances we dabble in, we surround ourselves with the loyal and the true. Charlie was both of those. He was a quiet man, but not by choice. But he lived by words branded on his chest, and very few men around here could earn my respect as he did."

Via inhaled deeply, closed her eyes and tilted her head down.

"For whatever reasons, he decided he could no longer be a part of this world and the note he left me was touching." She looked up and raised an eyebrow. "It was also private. But I have reason to believe that his loyalty to me and to my organization was unwavering and he never gave me reason to doubt him."

In his mind Rob reviewed the words Via had spoken. Perhaps it was the easy thought for an otherwise clueless man, but Rob believed the Charlie who got mentioned in the note would prove to be the same person that Via knew. There was a connection, but hardly an answer. Rob blinked his eyes purposely as if it helped him sharpen his thoughts on the matter. His fingers drew invisible lines on the bar as if a web of ties was forming, but soon the motion became circular and intense, ending with a thorough strike through. Rob turned to Via.

"Thank you for helping me form a story that has no clear beginning and no apparent end. There are only characters for now as it seems and I have no way to tie them together yet. Respecting your privacy, and those under your employ, may I ask if the name Christian rings any bells with you? And if not, is it possible to reach out to this Charlie and see if he responds to the name? I know how you said he decided to not be a part of this world anymore and I don't even know if you are still able to reach him regardless."

Again Rob scribbled invisible lines on the bar, but quickly wiped the nothingness away with his hand. He looked at Via, wondering is she'd be willing to continue in the direction they had moved to.