Being in Cohen’s office had been a blissfully rare occurrence recently.  While the goblins had been barring the blonde from the building, veritably exiling her to the outside world, Josephine was kept woefully close.  There always seemed to be some in-house task to be accomplished, and their paths rarely crossed.  While Josephine might have been jealous at one point, she knew it wasn’t as though what Cohen was doing had much to do with her skills.  It had much more to do with an agenda.

Whatever it was, Josephine was growing more suspicious as the day’s passed.  It always seemed as though she was doing less and less of what she was originally hired to do – break curses in the field, and more appraising and trading with actual witches and wizards who came  to the bank with non-goblin crafted odds and ends. The noted lack of investigation of items in question but not off location did not sit well with her. 

So, in true to form fashion, Josephine investigated. 

It was a slow process, glancing at documents, searching through files, leaving no trace of her presence in the places she knew she was not wanted – particularly the offices of the higher ups in the bank, but she did not have a choice if she wanted to understand just what was going on.

She did not understand everything yet, there were pieces missing, but she knew her name was appearing more and more frequently on documentation.  She was linked to several priceless artifacts – some she recognized with names of those that brought them in, but others – others, Josephine hadn’t seen yet, or in a more worrying case, hadn’t seen in years, since one of her last Egyptian retrievals. 

All of this information on paper Josephine hadn’t seen before.  Thing she wasn’t supposed to see.  It could be innocent, but, with how much she trusted goblins and just how much scrutiny the bank itself faced currently, she couldn’t say she wanted to write it off as some coincidence. 

So, with that information in mind, Josephine knew, despite her completely and utterly she did not want to speak with Raizel Cohen, it was going to be impossible to avoid it.  It would be even more impossible if Cohen knew anything about it – if she were part of it.  Goblins were clever beings, and dishonest to boot.

So, it would be up to them (perhaps her, really) to be more clever.  Lifting her hand, Josephine knocked on the heavy wooden door, more as a courtesy than anything else and pushed it open just a little. “Cohen?”

Get in, get out, and go home.  That had been her plan for the evening -- night really at this point, since it had taken hours beyond what it should have to finish ticking off everything from her list of items for the day.  Raizel was dragging her feet by the time she slunk back into the office, determined to do little more than unceremoniously plop the pile of papers on her desk before apparating back to her hotel room.

This was not why she had ever signed on with Gringotts.  Raizel hated to admit it, but the endless, exhausting flood of errands was even worse than the tedious, mind-numbing office work that she'd first been sentenced to after being recalled to London.  At least then she'd only felt like she wanted to claw someone's eyes out by the end of the day.  Now her work hours stretched so long that she could barely do anything besides collapse into her bed at the end of them.  The distant, blissful weekend -- and the promise of a trip home to Israel for her ten-year school reunion in just over a week -- was the only thing that made the load seem even slightly tenable.

But of course there had been another long list of enumerated assignments on her desk when she'd returned.  Raizel raked her fingers through her hair, shaking her head in angry frustration.  London.  The Aurors.  Adon.  That was why she was still here.  With an unhappy huff, she dropped into the chair, yanking a blank piece of parchment over so that she could begin scribbling down a half-effort answer before she went home for the day.

She had barely finished -- signing her name with a rather more angry effort than she usually put into it, which caused the nub of the quill to dig in and tear the parchment -- when a knock sounded on the door.  Raizel jumped at the sound, whipping her head around to glare daggers at the latest unexpected annoyance.

"What?" she snapped irritably.  Gritting her teeth, she planted her hands flat on the desk, pushing herself up here.  "If you're coming to give me something else to do, then that's it, St. Just.  I quit!  This is inhumane!" she added furiously, gesturing at the air, at the door, at the other Cursebreaker herself with an aggravated flourish.  "And I don't care how important it is!  You can do it yourself!  I'm going home!"

Josephine could not say she was surprised by Cohen’s reaction.  The woman was a hothead on a good day, and judging by her expression and the time of night, today had been a long day for her.  Were Josephine inclined to feel sympathy for her, this would have been the occasion.  Unfortunately for Cohen, at this moment, Josephine lacked the capacity or time to feel sorry for her or apologize. 

“As much as I would usually love to see you go,” Josephine quipped, “I’m afraid I don’t have your last straw – at least not in the way of a task.  And, regrettably, I do require your particular personage for what I’m going to tell you.” 

She walked further into the office, making sure that she pushed the door hard enough that it clicked shut.  Tapping her wand on her thigh, she pointed it behind her, flicking it to add a locking charm, just in case.  It was not hard to ignore the expression on her face and or her adamant assertion that she was going home, especially when it had to do with her own well being. 

Just in case the woman responded with her own charms, Josephine stood in the path that would give the most resistance to Raizel leaving easily, and clasped her hands behind her back, wand in between her hands. 

Pursing her lips, Josephine took a moment, collected her thoughts, and then very carefully spoke.  “Do you know why you’re being sent on all of these inane errands, Cohen?  And I’ll save you the effort, it has nothing to do with your lack of competence, in case that were a thought.” 

The door was shut with a forceful click, and suddenly wands were out.  Raizel's wand was in her hand just as quickly, and it was only through pure force of will that she kept herself from pointing it at the other woman.  She clenched her teeth tightly together, practically baring them at her co-worker, looking for all the world like a wild animal that had suddenly found itself cornered in a cage.

She did not want to be here.  She did not.  She did not.  Raizel clung to that mantra, repeating it over and over again in her head as she glowered menacingly at St. Just, hovering behind her desk.   Whatever the other Cursebreaker had to say, she was not interested in hearing it -- but it was clear that whether she wanted to hear it or not, St. Just had every intention of speaking her thoughts.  Unless Raizel wanted to duel her, she was going to have to listen.

But then St. Just started to speak -- and whatever diatribe that Raizel might have been expecting, this wasn't it.  A startled look flickered over the blonde Cursebreaker's face, and her eyes shot back to meet Josephine's.  Suddenly visibly nervous, she took a step to the side, and then back again, gripping tightly at the back of her chair.

It was not hard to decipher why she was suddenly being sent out on errands -- why she was being chosen to accompany the goblins to the Ministry, or why she had been selected for a little extra attention around Gringotts.  The probable reason was something that she was trying hard not to think about.  She was especially trying hard not to think about it in the context of what it might reveal about the goblins' ultimate intentions, because once she did start entertaining those possibilities, it would be impossible not to show it outwardly.

And she did not want to show it.  Particularly not when she was spending so much time around Adon.  On top of his inability to let any perceived affront against a friend go, it was painfully obvious that her former schoolmate was savagely awaiting a reason to act on his grudge against the Gringotts goblins.  So far, he had been noticeably respectful of her desire to fight her own battles; Raizel had been both touched and impressed by the uncharacteristic restraint.  But there were undoubtably limits to Adon's control.  She had no desire to forcibly discover them.

And here was St. Just, pressing the matter.  Forcing it on her, as if the British woman was the only one who could have possibly discovered it.  Raizel's jaw clenched, and she levelled a glare at the witch, her grip on the chair far more certain. 

"No," she said stiffly.  "I have no idea why they would send me out.  And I'm sure that you are the only one who could possibly make the connection, since you can see so much farther than all the rest of us!"  Her eyes flashed.  Raizel gritted her teeth.  Her heart was beating furiously, and there was a deep, gnawing, aching feeling deep in her chest.  She gestured angrily at the other Cursebreaker, jabbing a finger forcefully in her direction.  "Why don't you tell me?" she demanded furiously.  "Since obviously you think I need to hear it!"

Surprise was a bit beyond Josephine at this point.  Cohen had made it abundantly clear she was already in a piss pour mood.  That did not mean Josephine was going to let it bother her, however.  She stood still, her wand still lowered behind her, she did not need to give Raizel any reason to hex her out of the room.

It was unfortunate, really, in any other set of circumstances she would have loved any reason to get Cohen in trouble, but if Cohen got in trouble, or Merlin Forbid Josephine actually hexed her back, it would just be another nail in the coffin of her career. 

Gringotts, after all, needed few reasons to just go ahead and ruin both of them.  "Quite finished?" Josephine asked, quirking her eyebrow with pursed lips, waiting for the frustrated blonde to stop seething and lower her hand.

It was rude to point, not that she expected Cohen to think about it, and she smoothed down the front of her skirt, taking a deep breath before she began to speak.  "I know you know how it directly relates to you.  I should have been more clear," she placated. 

Difficulty thinking beyond one's self in matters like this was quite difficult, and for women like Josephine and Raizel, where their own needs were generally far more important than anyone else's meant reluctance, and even anger, at being forced to consider others.  Unfortunately, it seemed both of their lives were tangled up with one another at this point.

"While they've been sending you out on wild hippogriff hunts, pardon the phrase, I've been here - virtually locked in appraisals and meetings.  However, I've managed to find my way into a couple of documents," she noncommittally waved her hand, uninterested in sharing too many details - if Cohen wanted them, she could ask.  "My name is being attached to several projects at the moment, some I can claim others.. well," she shook her head, Her eyes, which had previously been roaming the office as she spoke turned on Cohen to convey the urgency of this information. 

Taking a moment for pause, Josephine took a breath and continued, "They're planning something," Josephine concluded, "But, I haven't had access to much, as of yet.  I... require your assistance."

Raizel was not finished, but she kept her mouth shut anyhow.  She glared back at the other woman, chin raised, tossing her hair defiantly as if to make it clear that she was only still here because she deigned to be.  She had no interest in whether St. Just had been clear or not; as far as she was concerned, she didn't care what the other Cursebreaker had to say.

St. Just was still determined to say it anyhow.  Raizel listened haughtily, her mouth pressed into a firm, unforgiving line, doing her best to ignore the knot that was growing in her stomach.  Names being attached to projects...if the goblins wanted to discredit someone, or shift the blame...and she had been spending most of her time out and about.  How would Raizel know if her name was being attached to things?  And if those things were bad or convincing enough -- if the British Ministry somehow got word... 

But then the other woman got to the end of her statement.  That had not been what she expected to hear.  Raizel sat there stunned for a minute, and then let out a loud, exaggerated laugh, throwing her head back.

"You want my help?" she asked disbelievingly, smirking back at the redhead.  "Why would I ever help you?  I don't care what they do to you," she said, waving a hand dismissively at the door.  But still, there was an unhappy glint in her eye as she met the witch's gaze -- only briefly, for she quickly averted her eyes as if to make it clear that she had no actual interest.  "Why does it matter what your name is attached to?"

The reaction was expected.  It was a every woman for herself sort of environment in this work.  You didn't typically work with others, and if you did, they were usually gunning to get the glory before you did, and Josephine couldn't blame Raizel's reaction, really. 

She might have done the same thing, actually, it was almost proof positive that she would have.  It had been said, before by someone Josephine couldn't name, that the problems a person found in others were generally the problems a person found in themselves.  And of course, Josephine recognized their similarities, anyone with eyes could - so she had to be at least slightly patient.

And that meant she wasn't going to react to her outburst except to roll her shoulders and sigh.  "I've only seen a couple of documents," she pointed out, hoping for not a moment did Raizel Cohen think she was safe. 

She wasn't in the office for a reason.  Josephine was being kept close so she could be blamed on something internal.  Whatever external moves they were making, Josephine could have put galleons on wherever they were sending Raizel off to had some fairly close ties to it. 

"I don't know if or when your name appears, but it's no coincidence that both of our assignments have changed, Cohen.  I'd prefer to know, and I don't think you should be naive enough to think you're safe just because I haven't seen your name on three pieces of parchment.  Whether you are going to help me or not, you might want to consider helping yourself." 

Raizel watched her, and in only a few moments' time, her expression had shifted from smug to wary, and then to guarded.

She didn't trust Josephine St. Just.  Trust was a currency that she extended to very few people in the world -- probably as many as she could count on both hands, even with two fingers missing.  For all she knew, all of this -- involving her, pulling her in deeper, and then abandoning her to whatever fate the goblins had planned -- was all part of the other Cursebreaker's overall plot.  If someone was going to be blamed for the missing harvest mask and the three deaths, then Raizel had no doubt which of the pair of them St. Just would choose to take the fall.

But it was true that her assignment had been drastically altered.  If the goblins had really wanted to keep her from passing on information to the British Ministry, they could have easily given her what she'd originally wanted and reassigned her to some distant land, rather than running her ragged here in England.  She hadn't thought of it in that way before, but St. Just was right -- she wasn't safe.

"I can help myself fine on my own," Raizel retorted, tossing her hair petulantly.  But her eyes darted to meet Josephine's, and she watched the other woman with a wary expression.  Before she made a decision on how much she wanted to trust the British Cursebreaker, she needed to know more.  "What sorts of things is your name being attached to?"

Josephine could almost respect the woman’s intense desire to take care of herself, but even if the sentiment was something Josephine experienced acutely, and there was significant evidence that trusting anyone was probably not in either of her best interest, but it was potentially unavoidable. 

Josephine, after all, reasoned they were most likely going to fall together.  If one found evidence of the contrary, they would summarily dispel of the other’s allegiance, and it would be each woman for herself.  This was a plan she could live with, one she had used before, and it aided in something, at the least.  When neither party was sure of their status, it was much easier to form an alliance.

Licking her lips, she was growing impatience with this whole thing though.  If Raizel Cohen did not want to protect herself with help, then Josephine would seek out other avenues.   She’d have to dig more, but it certainly wouldn’t be a surprise if she had to go elsewhere.  Cohen would be that stubborn.

The clincher question was coming up though, and Josephine folded her hands behind her back.  “Internal Investigation,” Josephine said gravely, a serious matter in any large, bureaucratic institution.  “I’ve not been informed, personally, of its existence.  But old cases, almost a decade or so, are being named.  Egyptian and African trade.  Old skeletons unearthed for whatever reason.” 

“I would not be surprised if investigations and audits were not wide spread.”

Raizel pressed her mouth firmly closed as she regarded the other woman.  The atmosphere at Gringotts Bank was hardly a comfortable working environment.  Much as she'd mentioned to Adon once, the goblins did not want their employees in their element.  They seemed to like things best when the Cursebreakers were at odds or off balance.  It said something about the men and women who chose this type of employ that they could appear suave and in control in spite of it all; but it was not to the goblins' interest to keep them comfortable. 

But internal investigations...that was something unusual.  If someone was conducting some sort of investigation into St. Just's doings, that meant that the goblins were looking for a way to take her out.  An arrest; a conviction.   Something to remove her from the payroll, and probably from more than that.

Raizel bit her lip as she regarded the older witch cautiously, unconsciously clenching her hand tightly shut.  Just because someone was investigating St. Just didn't mean that they would be similarly interested in her as well.  The other Cursebreaker had more than her share of enemies, and Raizel had been doing her best to lie relatively low at work.  But if the goblins had realized that she was collaborating with the Ministry...surely they knew how close she was with Adon...

She shrugged, but the gesture was considerably less careless than usual.  "Maybe they are," she said cautiously.  "But if you haven't done anything wrong, then you don't have anything to worry about.  I haven't."  She gave a roll of her eyes; the statements were so clearly a lie, on every count.  They were Cursebreakers; by the definition of their work, the offenses were plentiful.

She frowned, studying the older woman.  For all she knew, this entire conversation was a set up on St. Just's part.  Even if there was a real internal investigation, and St. Just had stumbled upon word of it, the other Cursebreaker could simply be trying to shift the blame.

"Why do you think that I could do something to help?" she asked, the words short and clipped.  "I don't know anything about an internal investigation."