Title is taken from Jean Sibelius' String Quartet in D-Minor op. 56, otherwise known as "Voces Intimae."  Feel free to listen while you read, I'm sure it will enhance the experience.

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Early Afternoon, 1300

There was only a smart part of Josephine that could be considered feeling even remotely guilty.  She was keeping something.  While secrets were not necessarily new for her in this line of work, this was an unexpectedly large withholding.  Josephine had received an owl at her residence, summoning her for an important, private matter several days before. 

As she expected (deduced from prior experience and the stationary was most assuredly from the Presidential Suite at the Landmark Hotel, Marat was waiting for her. 

He’d heard tell of something – he wanted her to look for it.  Without her protégée, she had at least felt inclined to listen.  Eisenberg was eager, but she was young.  This was also, arguably, not business of the bank, despite their mutual connection to the institution. 

When pleasantries and banter were set aside, the real issue at hand was revealed.  Marat explained how he heard a rumor.  The Idunna Apples that had been nicked from the museum last July were said to have turned up.   While Josephine was not predisposed to trafficking agriculture, she couldn’t help but be intrigued:  seemingly made of gold, but could be ingested?  Her curiosity got the best of her and with information in hand, she’d left the meeting with a tentative promise to look into the matter on her own time. 

Thus far, even with several ears tuned into the underground, she’d heard very little about the Apples.  There was word of something moving through Knockturn, but it sounded more like a shipment of ashwinder eggs than the powerful potion ingredient.  She intended to continue her inquiry later with an herbalist in the Alley who had reliably given Josephine information before when a potential substance could have been involved (far more common in ancient artefacts than one would think). 

Until then, however, she had a bit of time to kill.  After making her way back to the Landmark to update Marat on her progress (a very short business update, a slightly longer social call), she had decided that it would only be fitting to grab lunch.  It was not, after all, every day that she was not out on Gringotts business and being monitored by the attentive Goblins. 

Seated in the Lavish restaurant, her eyes roamed the menu for her choices, only after ordering a glass of white wine, however.  Without sparing no more than a momentary glance, she reached forward to grab her glass of wine, lowering the menu to take a sip.  The corners of her lips curled as she brought the glass – red stain about the rim back to the table.  A quick flash of teeth, a swift look with eye contact and then Josephine was back to her menu, leaving the subtle invitation hanging in the air. 

Jebediah Layton slipped a five pound note into the manicured hands of a maître d'hôtel at The Landmark's courtyard restaurant, smiling pleasantly at the gentleman whose response was to promptly offer a good table in the corner.

It had been nearly a month since.... since the events of late April. Since that evening, when one of the better lights in this world had been extinguished before its time.

But all things that burn brightly also burn briefly. Layton's countenance was that of a man who had not slept well in a very long time yet his appearance was otherwise younger than ever before. He walked with a cocky little gait and he wore his hair combed back. It was unmistakably him, although those unused to Layton's company might hesitate to approach. Hardly a deterrent should an Auror catch sight of his face but muggle London was an easier place to hide than wizarding society.

And The Landmark was known to most underground criminals as a safe place to book a room or meal, albeit for a short time.

So he wasn't surprised to see Josephine St.Just in the restaurant while he was being shown to his own table. She was drinking wine. Her eyes indicated an invitation and, well, it was less suspicious to dine in pairs than to eat alone.

"Never mind," he murmured with a soft touch on the waiter's elbow, "I see a friend. Sparkling water, won't you?" The waiter looked between Layton and then the witch, understanding right away; he left with a smug smile and another five pounds in his front pocket.

Meanwhile, Layton approached his acquaintance and drew back the chair across from her - his manner was watchful, careful. "Good afternoon Josephine. I didn't know you were staying here," he let the assumption serve as a question, taking a seat. "You're looking very fine today."

 The short interaction between Layton and the host was telling. Their path diverted and Layton approached, looking quite…confident. It wasn’t so much his expression, that was as calculated as Josephine remembered it, but he certainly had taken a certain measure of pride in his appearance today. 

She lowered her menu and uncrossed her legs as he pulled out the chair across from her.  She was pleased, but did not appear eager.  Rather, like a cat who spotted a potential plaything across the way: readiness without enthusiasm.  If she could flick her ear, she might have; instead, she just tilted her head to the side with a serene smile. 

“Just visiting,” whom or what she was visiting, however, went unsaid. It was better for everyone that her friends remain nameless for the time being, and that she never be the first to acknowledge them.   Giving a simple nod to the waitor who dropped by with Layton’s water and an extra menu, she glanced back at him: "and I can never just drop by without indulging.” 

After all, she earned this meal.  Marat would hardly care that she’d already indicated the room upon which to put the tab as long as she did her job correctly.  They had that sort of understanding. 

She nodded her head at his compliment and looked him over one more time, as though she hadn’t already.  “Merci,” she smiled just a bit and inclined her chin, “You’re looking well yourself.” There was a moment of careful consideration.  She had an inclination of why he looked so well, but it was in bad taste to mention it, at least directly.  “Is there some new endeavor that’s put a spring in your step?”

Her response, vague as it was, gave Layton enough indication to assume that at least one another criminal of note had taken up temporary residence at this establishment. He would have to see about moving on to a different hotel or apartments - perhaps a different part of town, if only to disperse that possible aura of suspicion.

Layton opened the menu but didn't spare it much attention, choosing instead to observe the witch across the table. He already had his heart stomach set on the beef croquette and chicken breast. His morning - a wander of muggle banks in which he kept several of his more mundane resources - had built up an appetite.

            "You’re looking well yourself." Josephine returned the compliment in typical fashion. "Is there some new endeavor that’s put a spring in your step?"

She minced no words.

"Mm, not exactly." Layton took a quick sip of his water (Perrier, Ira's favourite) pulling a thoughtful face. "Lack of endeavour, you might say, with my... employer's recent passing."

He lowered the glass and shut the menu, which was cue enough for the closest waiter to approach them to take their order. The wizard fell silent while he waited for his dining partner to make hers, and then quickly gave his with a quick smile to dismiss their server.

"Yourself?" he asked when they were in possession of relative privacy once more, "My ear to the ground tells me that life might be getting interesting for a woman of your vocation nowadays."

Even Layton had heard talk of the Idunna Apples - it was hard to miss if you knew the right people or places.

Not exactly?  Josephine’s expression picked up and she quirked her eyebrow at him.  She watched the rim of the glass hit his lip and waited the heartbeat it took him to swallow and continue.  Inclining her head knowingly, Josephine could have guessed that was at least somewhat part of the image he presented today. 

She lifted her hand to the side of her face and delicately pushed a wisp back before smoothly tilting her cheek into her palm.  “Well, an early retirement  will hardly suit you for long,” she appraised with a mischievous smile, “I’m sure there’s always work to be done…” she added, letting that settle into the last moments of company-less silence. 

The attentive waiter approached and Josephine’s desire for salmon and lamb would be indulged soon enough.  As she could have guessed, Layton’s choices were much more pragmatic.  It was so very English of him.  She nodded with a pleasant smile as the waiter took the menu away and himself, in short order.  It allowed her to languidly turn back to Layton and resume the conversation.

When the question turned back onto her, Josephine drew herself up in her seat a little bit and considered how to answer.  Neither of them were willing to say too much out loud, which generally made for very boring eavesdropping, if one were to bother trying. 

“You know there’s never a dull moment at the bank,” she waved her hand flippantly; again, to an outsider, a casual business discussion over lunch seemed so much less exciting than the real topics being discussed.  Even a muggle would know that.  “But, I may be taking on another project that should be lucrative for all parties involved.”  There was a pause and then a considering look, “Are you interested in investing?”  A brazen question, couched in the most innocuous of terms.

He let out a short, bark of a laugh at the notion of early retirement. No. The witch was right - he could never give up on his lifestyle. It preceded Ira and would continue to sustain him for as long as he lived... however long that might be. One couldn't have any delusions pertaining to the mortality rate of his kind.

Josephine's lucrative project was therefore a welcome offer.

"Investing?" he repeated, with something like a smile. "Yes. Yes, I think am. You don't look like you've made a bad investment in your life." Untrue - surely - but it wasn't about whether she ever had, it was about the impression she gave.

Layton could do with a distraction from his usual myriad of murder and torture. Best to stay out of that whilst Level 2 was still on high alert from last month's events.

Patience paid. "Not in a major capacity of course," he added modestly - the Aurors still believed him to be dead and he intended to keep that up. "But I'm a useful man to have around, or so I'm told. Is it high risk?"

All Josephine could do in response was smile.  It would be an added advantage to give Marat some competition, or increase the potential for profit – it’d be best if it were both. 

The margins in this case already looked excellent, but it was always nice to strike while the iron was hot and squeeze as much as she could out of the opportunity.  It seemed she had created at least a little bit of interest with Layton, as well.  It must have been her lucky day. 

Well, how could she complain?  Even in the face of such flattering words, Josephine restrained her reaction.  Flattery was effective, but not entirely mind-altering for her.  “I’m very… thoughtful in the choices I may these days,” she informed him pleasantly. 

It was like discussing the latest trends in the international rates of gold: absolute routine.  It wasn’t the end of the conversation either.  He tempered his response, of course, and she couldn’t blame him: even if one itched to reenter the game, there was always the need for a cooling off period between activity. 

“It’s rather hard to tell, at least this early in the project,” she clarified.  “I know there is the potential for quite a bit of competition,” she added further, “but the reward margin is large.”  A valuable ingredient, the kind apothecaries and unspeakables would be most interested in was at stake.  They had been absolutely wasted in being on display in that museum.  “Three times the usual rate,” she dropped it casually, dropping her eyes to the rim of her glass as she took a sip.  “And I may not even need your particular set of skills to procure it.” 

If he were to dabble in any investments, Layton could do much worse than Josephine St.Just. She took calculated risks and would never choose to undertake a task that had too high a probability of exposure. Whatever was stirring here at The Landmark would not make the Prophet's front page should it ever come to that. Not if the right precautions were taken.

"Three times," the wizard murmured - sure to allow himself the courtesy to sound impressed, "You have my attention. And my services, useless as they might be at this stage."

People didn't like to anticipate the possibility of exercising brutal violence. Even Ira had always preferred the subtler of arts; strangulation, poisoning, incisive little stabbings. Layton could see the benefit of those methods, and has used them in the past, but his specialty was making it hurt where it counted.

And that was a skill set one might always enjoy having in reserve.

"Is it a new endeavour, this investment?" he glanced past the witch, taking in the other restaurant patrons: a few harmless looking muggles in suits or holiday wear. A glimpse into their minds told him that he had nothing to worry about. "Foreign, I mean, or local stock?"

Anyone in Josephine’s line of work clearly had a healthy ego.  Bravado was required to imagine one’s self-capable of increasing the fortunes of others and potentially relieving others of theirs.  And despite her better judgment, she did appreciate the bit of ego stroking that Layton was throwing her way. 

She sat up a bit taller in her seat.  Perhaps a lesser woman would have been practically purring with delight, but Josephine tempered herself.  The corners of her lips tugged upward just slightly.  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she was genuine in her assessment, though it was highly unlikely she’d actually need it.

Josephine worked alone, at least in these circumstances.  Yes, she had a trainee that she actually trusted very much (as much as someone in their line of work could, at any rate), but that was for official business.  She’d dabbled in bringing her along for more… questionable errands but this was too early. 

The challenge would be good, eventually, but now it was young yet and there were too many unknowns.  Even if Eisenberg was coming up on her first, full year, there were still leagues of things to learn for her young protégée.  “Right now?” her eyebrows raised provocatively, “Local, with foreign interest,” she clarified.  “I’ve yet to see the finer details,” or the product itself, but that was to remain unsaid for the time being, “but it is still new.” 

She paused and smiled placidly as the waiter delivered their appetizers, thanking him as she daintily picked up her silverware.  Careful, as always, Josephine returned her gaze to Layton.  “I anticipate a competitive market,” she explained before taking the first sumptuous bite of salmon from her fork. 

Local, with foreign interest?

Layton's gaze narrowed slightly and he reached for his glance while he thought about what his lunch partner was saying. Whatever she was dealing with, Josephine was sourcing it from inside their borders.... and it was 'still new', which he knew meant it had been around a while but only recently became an option. That narrowed the list some.

"Friendly competition?" he reached for a fork and began to tuck into the beef croquette, his mannerisms inoffensive. "Can't say I've seen much of that in your line of business."

The waiter wandered by to refill his water, topping up the witch's wine at the same time. Layton chewed slowly and spared a polite nod at the server (who wisely chose to wander away again).

It appeared that there still seemed much to settle on Josephine's end of this particular endeavour, so Layton didn't want to press too insistently on the subject. "Either way, you'll know how to find me if I might be useful."

Untrue - he would find her, of course, if needed. But he reminded himself to offer Josephine a card when they parted; his false identity would be easier to trace.

Josephine’s desire to complete the transaction now increased at least two fold.  It was an intriguing little problem and a good extracurricular activity.  She had never been the sort to stick to one thing.  An active mind needed many pursuits.  She assumed it was very similar for Mr. Layton, who despite the completely underwhelming façade he adopted was most likely far more interesting than he let on. 

She had more of an idea recently, but everything was still based on information heard second hand.  There would always be someone foolish enough to reveal a hidden gem of information – one more piece to putting everything together.  Someone else might have given up, but her deep ties to her Hogwarts house kept her relentless when it came to a particularly engaging puzzle. 

“I appreciate the offer,” she smiled lukewarm and tucked neatly back into her food and drink.  She had to admit, this meal would be a little more satisfying if she already had the apples in her possession.

That was just the thing she needed to work around.  “And I do look forward to having something for you very soon.”