Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Welcome to Part Two: Electric Boogaloo. I’m your friendly neighbourhood ex-magician-ex-thief-ex-phony-actor-current-PI-assistant-secretary-intern-partner-thing, Harold Lockhart. Some of you may be wondering; “Harry, why the fuck do we need a part two? Don’t sequels already have a shitty reputation?” First of all, shut up. Second of all, I need the money, I may have gotten into crippling debt after one of me and Perry’s cases. Speaking of which, that’s what the case I’m going to be talking about here is! How about we rewind to the summer of 2006?

There was a time in my life when my biggest aspiration was to be the world’s best magician; “Harold the Great”. With all the tricks up my sleeves, I could’ve made millions pretending to chop off women in boxes on live television. However, shit hit the fan when my family went homeless and I had to resort to my other great talent: pickpocketing! Well, not that great, considering how many arrests are there on my record. God knows how Perry managed to pull the strings to get those felonies expunged.

When I had become Perry’s PI-assistant-secretary-intern-partner-thing, it was as if life had color again. Seriously, I found out I was colorblind since I’m now able to actually visit doctors. I had thought to myself that maybe instead of a magician, I could be the Johnny Gossamer of real life! But all of Perry’s cases are of cheating spouses, maybe I should’ve expected that from a private eye agency. But, as Perry says it, I’m a fucking dipshit who can’t multiply in either heads. Asshole. Whatever, it was his fault that my balls went through electroshock torture last Christmas. What was I talking about again? Right! The case in July 2006! I call it “The Terrorist Magician Russians Roulette”, but Perry likes to be boring and tells me to shut the fuck up before he stabs me with his five-hundred dollar pen his great-grandma gave him. Well he’ll get charged for murder and lose his license so he can suck it! Anywho, that did almost happen during the case, but you’ll see later, my dear audience. Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?

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It all started on a regular Thursday morning. Well, to Harry it felt like it. He woke up in the afternoon on the couch, very much light-headed and feeling like throwing up. But, as soon he as opened his eyes, a pillow slammed into his face. “Go get ready, our next client will be here in an hour. Clean yourself and the room up, I’ll even make you lick the floors spotless if I have to, got it?” Perry said, adjusting the cuffs of his blazer and looking into a nearby full-length mirror. Harry sat on the couch, head still pounding. “Geez, good morning to you too, Perry. What’s up your ass this morning?”. Perry glared at the brunette, “There’s a hangover cure on the kitchen counter. Suck it up and drink that.” He pointed to the glass with egg yolks on it. 

Harry got up, lazily ruffling his hair and smoothing out the wrinkles on his button up shirt. He scooted over to Perry, slightly pushing him to reach for the tie hung over the top of the mirror. Perry glared at him, shortly before brushing the pads of his fingertips of  his own stubble. Harry fumbled with his hands, attempting to criss-cross his navy-blue tie. Perry watched the brunette with obvious judgment, shortly before letting out an exasperated sigh and flicking off Harry’s hands off the tie. He started tying Harry’s tie while muttering stupid shit like “Dumbass.” or “Fucking idiot.”, but Harry just gave him a fond expression.

Yeah I know, this shit sounds super domestic. Shhh, don’t tell Perry I said that. It triggers his homo-cidal tendencies.

After Harry gagged at the thought of drinking the hangover cure, Perry just shoved the glass onto his lips. Certainly an effective move, but a traumatizing one. He gestured Harry to their shared office in the room nearby. “I’m going to get the files, if the client comes early, just greet him.” Harry nodded at Perry’s request, opening the door to the office.

The office was exactly how Harry left it, messy. The faint smell of cigarettes and coins made Harry feel warm inside at the familiarity. It’s been less than a year, but Harry had certainly made his mark in Perry’s place, whether he liked it or not. Like when Harry bought a sign of Sentron.Inc Investigations but Sentron.Inc was flipped, so it looked funny from both sides of the glass. He was kind of hoping that Perry would get the reference to The Naked Gun, but all he got was several weeks worth of boring paperwork. But, Harry knew damn well that Perry liked it, even if he never showed it. Harry adjusted the sign, pushed stacked papers together with his hands, fucked around with Perry’s fancy pens and spun around in Perry’s rolley chair. 

Then Perry yelled at me for sitting in his one thousand dollar chair from France or wherever the fuck it was from. Like, France? Really? I heard they don’t teach French in jail there! Not even if you’re a foreigner! Then again, I don’t think Perry had been in jail before like I did. I guess you could say I’m a veteran of prisoncells!

Harry got (un)comfortable in his teeny-tiny seat next to his boss’s fancy rolling chair. He thought to himself; “Hmph. Unfair.”, his thoughts were interrupted when he saw a man open the door and enter the office. He was quite tall but had an eccentric sense to him. The man had messy dirty-blonde hair and looked to be middle-aged. Wrinkles shaped his stoic face, a cigarette pursed between his lips. His clothes were formal but had remnants of glitter, tinsel and other sparkly things on it. Harry cleared his throat, approaching the man, “Hello, sir, I’m Harry Lockhart, Perry van Shrike’s partner.” He put his hand out, the man just stared and blew a puff of smoke into the brunette’s face. Harry coughed violently, “Perry-…will be out…in a minute…” He ushered the weird guy to a seat parallel to Perry’s desk and went back to his spot. 

Five minutes had passed, and Perry had finally arrived. Harry mentally sighed in relief, slumping into his chair. “Good afternoon, Mr.John Doe, how may I help you?” Perry asked the client. John parted his lips, tapping his cigarette against the ashtray, and responded in a deep French accent. “On the phone, I had requested your assistance with one of my performance festivals in L.A. I believe one of the troupes is a potential threat and may plant a bomb during the show.” Perry looked over at Harry and tapped him. He started scribbling down his very extensive notes on John’s predicament.

And I know what you may be thinking, “Harry, you’re so good at art!” and thank you very much! But anyways, Mr.Parents-couldn’t-think-of-a-better-name over here is one PRETENTIOUS motherfucker. He’s one of those whatcha-ma-call-it…endurance artists, I think? Y’know, those weird kind of art where people stand still for hours on end or jerk off under floorboards? And the artists pretend there’s some deep meaning about society and shit? Y’know, that one. He’s one of those very famous artists but honestly I don’t even get where it comes from. The one thing that matters though was that he was willing to pay us A LOT. I mean, I could probably buy a whole house with that amount! The reason he didn’t want to get police protection was because he was doing some money scheme and didn’t wanna get caught by cops when they investigated so he opted for a PI agency. Anyways, back to the story.

“Do you have anyone in your team that you suspect?” Perry asked, resting his chin on his crossed knuckles. John thought to himself, “I believe it is the magic show troupe. I came to suspect them because they had kicked out a member, and that member had told me they are planning to do a bombing during the arts festival.”. Harry jerked his head, eyes widened. “I was hoping you could find someone to go undercover to be a “replacement” for her, Mr.van Shrike.”. Perry nodded his head, “It may take a while, howev-”

“I can go undercover.”

Perry and John looked at Harry, puzzled. Perry shook his head and mouthed “NO, NO, NO. FUCK NO, YOU’RE GOING TO FUCK THIS UP.” Harry looked back at the French man, “I mean, I’ve fucked around with magic as a kid, I’ve got experience.”. John cocked his head, chuckling, “Yeah, well, I’m not looking for experience of flicking a pencil to make it wiggly.”

Harry stood up, taking the tablecloth of Perry’s desk in his hands. He whipped the cloth with a loud snap!, all the items on Perry’s desk from cups to paperwork sat neatly at the same place as it was before. Harry folded the cloth, setting it aside. John’s eyes widened, before he slowly srated smiling. Perry’s eyes twitched, looking at the smug Harry near him. “So, you impressed or do I need to host a full magic show?” Harry joked, taking  one of Perry’s pens from his desk--promptly making it disappear into thin air. John seemed satisfied with the result, “I suppose I’ll consider it, Lockhart.”“ Harry nodded in affirmation, sitting back down. “Well, I’ll give Mr.van Shrike more details of when and where you should arrive to meet the troupe.” Perry’s face faded from a frustrated one to a confused one. “It’s a pleasure meeting you two,” John shook Perry’s hand firmly, then Harry’s. Harry smiled gleefully, ushering him out of the office. As soon as John was out of earshot, Perry began with his what-the-fuck-are-you-doing rant.

Can you tell we like to say fuck a lot? I think it was quite obvious in the first movie.

“What the fuck were you thinking!?” Perry exclaimed, approaching towards Harry. Harry shook his head, flailing his arms in defense,“Hey! Hey! Look, I have experi-”

“Where the fuck is my pen!?”

“Wait, what?”

Perry jerked his head, side eyeing the shorter man, “The two-hundred dollar pen my father got me from Greece? That you just did a stupid magic trick on and vanished? What, did you shove it up your ass or something?”

“That’s gay.”

“And that’s a stupid comment, give me back my pen or else your next magic trick is about blowing off the rest of your fingers with a gun.”

I did eventually give back the pen to Perry, I just hid it in my sleeve the whole time, heh. It was quite difficult considering the fact I only had nine-and-a-half fingers. Fast forward a couple hours after the meeting, John had called Perry for more details on my meetup and one of the notes was that I needed an assistant. So, I called up the only girl I knew that would be perfect for the job: 

Harmony.

“Harry, you’re going to get yourself killed doing this!”

Harry was in his bedroom, listening to Harmony worry about him over the phone. “I’m surprised I haven’t already considering last Christmas, I’ll be fine!”

“A dog ate and digested your severed finger!”

Harry could imagine Harmony rolling her eyes over the phone and mumbling expletives under her breath, “Okay, listen, I’ll be your pretend-assistant just to make sure that Perry doesn’t have to do more paperwork for death liabilities.”

“Thank you so much, Harm! I owe you one!”

And that was the day I sold my soul for pretending to chop off women in boxes on national television.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Perry drove me and Harmony to John Doe’s meetup spot. This place was really far away so it was better if we all carpooled (Well, Perry’s reason was that he didn’t trust me to drive on highways because when I was trying to get my G2, I might’ve fucked up several cars.)

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“So I was thinking, I could get Chloe this rare Protocop figurine or something for her birthday! Indiana doesn’t really sell any of those types of superhero toys so I think she’d like it.”

Perry blinked, judging Harry through the back mirror. “I asked you for your cover details and you ended up talking about your niece’s birthday. Perhaps I should ask John to reconsider.” Harry rolled his eyes, mimicking Perry’s comment with hand movements. Harmony reapplied her lipstick, patting it with her finger, “So, what would you like us to do, Perry?” She asked, snapping her makeup mirror shut.

“You and Harry are going undercover as magicians, you are his assistant. You’ll have to investigate any suspicious activity within the magic troupes and report back to me after your shifts are done. The ultimate goal is to find the bomb and their motives before the magic show.”

“Since it’s my first time undercover, can my fake name be Sherlock?”

“If you say another stupid thing I’m going to pull over just so I can punch you in the face.” Harmony nodded in favor of Perry’s statement. “I’d be very glad to help you.” Harry fingered his pocket for a crumpled sticky note, “Actually, actually, I wrote a bunch of name ideas, you guys tell me which one I should do! Thomas Reilly? Nah…sounds too formal. Hank Palmer! Wait, no, I sound like a failed boxer.”

“I’m going to stop this car and kick you onto the curb.”

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Welcome to Harold Lockhart’s Real Estate Show! Let’s talk about John Doe’s Arts Festival Extravaganza Building, shall we? It was a very lavish building with lots of food and other fancy-people shit. Hell, it even had those taxidermy lion rugs! The floors had a very peculiar pattern to it, where the majority was marble with weird-looking ones in between. Trust me, it will be relevant later. It was packed with all sorts of people, dudes whose entire personality is how cool they look smoking, women who are there to be Doe’s decoration, shiksa caterers, homosexuals, women with children, ex-ex lovers, a teeny tiny band, oh, and a partridge in a pear tree. Harmony and I spent the time waiting by training our gaydar. What? Perry taught me how to do it, and it’s fun, it’s like birdwatching but less boring.

_____

Harmony traced her finger over the rim of her glass of wine. “Can I really trust you not to actually saw me in half?” She chuckled, taking a sip of her drink. Harry shook his head with a stupid smile growing on his face, “No promises, Harmony.” In the corner of the his eye, he saw a black-suited man with cool shades approaching them, presumably a bodyguard or a glorified usher. He showed the duo to the designated stage rooms for the festival performers, the dance group, drama performers, endurance artists, and of course, the magic troupe.

As soon as the door opened, the magicians stared at the fresh meat. Harry laughed sheepishly, “Uhm, my name is…” The brunette’s eyes darted around the room for some sort of name, until his eyes landed on a comic book ripped apart--perhaps a failed trick.Harry’s smile twitched at the impatient people in front of him, ”Tony Hartlock. I’m the replacement for one of the previous magicians.”

A redhead magician slowly walked towards Harry, completely stoic. “Well, Tony, let me set down some ground rules for you here so you don’t end up like the other guy.”.Harry gulped, slowly nodding. “Don’t fuck with us, Doe wants us to put on a good show, so just stay out of our way.” The scary man’s eyes trailed down and noticed Harmony. “Well, who’s the chick?”. Harmony glared, “Put a sock on it, hotshot.” He chuckled, “We’ll see.”

So, this man over here, he’s Hector Pocus. Stupid ass name, I know. He was the guy who was running the whole magic department for the festival. He’s a pretty famous magician in the 21st century, hell, I’ve even been to some of his shows in the past back when I lived in New York. But, man, is he an asshole.

He escorted the duo to their designated spot in complete silence. Hector cleared his throat, “On the schedule, you and the girl go on at 8:15PM, each magician’s performance is 5 minutes in length. Don’t ever try to interrupt our practices, got it kid?” Harry nodded, avoiding eye contact with the man. Hector opened the door and ushered Harmony--and only Harmony--first into the room, before letting go of the door and letting it slam into Harry’s face. Harry glared at the Hector, shortly before opening the door and going into the room.

Harry marveled at the props and decorations of the place, looked like the backstage of a high school musical gone awry. He wandered around, touching every corner of the room. “Holy shit, this whole room costs more than…well...anything I ever had!”. Harmony followed Harry mindlessly, “I was hoping that this would just be one of those fake bomb threats but that guy was creepy.” Harry waved his hand, shaking his head, “It can’t be that bad, he’s probably just some narcissistic bitch whose mom didn’t even attend his birth.” The blonde glanced at one of the desks which had several props on top of it. She looked over the top, fidgeting with the linking rings until one of them eventually broke free of her hand and snuck beneath the wall and desk. Harmony looked down at the floor, feeling her way under for the ring until she felt something odd. Moving the desk aside, she observed the floor. The entire floor was shiny marble, excluding one tile which looked odd. Harmony clicked her heel against the tile and felt it move under her feet.

“Harry, take a look at this.”

Harry observed the tile, he squatted and tried to peel the tile away with his bare hands. He used his body to support the force and put one of his hands on the ground underneath. Until,

He felt skin.

Harmony and Harry yelped at the disembodied head under the tile. Her skull was bashed, as if her head was a watermelon. Dried blood was visible on her face and the ground. The woman’s skin was pale and covered head to…head with bruising. Harry let go of the tile, crawling away from the corpse. Harmony quickly put back the tile not to see that horror again. “What the fuck…?” Harmony whimpered, covering her mouth with her hands. Harry patted down his cheap suit to retrieve his phone and dialed Perry.

See what I meant by “being relevant later”? That, my friends, is called foreshadowing. I think, I don’t know, Perry told me that. Or was it foreshortening? Back to the scene before I start yammering more.

“What did you do now?” Perry said, completely exasperated.

Harry managed to get out a few words, “There’s a dead bo-HEAD! under the floors.” Perry traced his fingers over his lips, looking for advice. “Okay, okay, can you identify the person? How long do you think the corpse was there for?”. Harmony went over to Harry, answering Perry’s question, “I think a few days, doesn’t look like it’s decomposing yet. She was most definitely tortured, only her head was there, completely flattened.”. Perry took out a nearby sticky note and started writing the information down, “Is it possible to find the rest of her body? It helps with identification of her and the perpetrators.” Harmony and Harry looked at each other, shaking their head in fear. “We…We’ll try…” Harmony muttered. Perry said something in confirmation and disconnected the call. Harry slowly lowered his arm, glancing back at Harmony once more. “How about later…?” Harry asked, Harmony nodded fast.

“Let’s just…talk with the others. The singer troupe seems nice.”