BLACK MARKET PALOOZA

Once you met Sophia Varden it was apparent she had connections. I first thought she was a drug dealer when I saw her sitting in Bowen's office. She was just sent to run around like a pet on a leash. She was a pet. And she hated it.

We were smashed together cab heading to the Tenderloin District. The most dangerous district of San Francisco. Well known for it's heroin and homeless people. The tiny cab was filled with smoke from the driven and we would have rolled down the window if it wasn't so cold outside.

"Where is this place?" There had never been any accounts on the news and normally there was so much that went along with the market. Organ Sales, Weapons Trading. I had expected a dark room with all manner of people. The most dangerous people in the world buying the most dangerous things.

"An abandoned subway tunnel." She had apparently been there many times. I had never been comfortable with being alone on a dark street, but somehow being with Sophia made me even worse. She knew the area and the people and was sure to have some dangerous friends.

The Market was exactly as I had imagined it. It looked like an evil farmer's market. The black canopies smelled like mold and were masked by the strong smell of cigarette smoke. Sophia lit one herself.

"Isn't that bad for your health?" Again she looked at me and smiled her Kruger Cat smile. When she didn't have an answer to a question she would do this.

"We've got to find Raul he can help us. Knows this place like back of his hook." Raul had in fact lost his hand in a tragic dolphin training accident in 09' and had a hook fitted on his stub. "Don't question it." And I never questioned anything she will ever said again.

We walked up to a shop selling marijuana. "Hey Warden!" Raul had yelled at us. He called Sophia "Warden". But before I had time to question even this something more confusing happened.

"Raul where would we find some paintings?" Raul was a short man with a buzz cut and a goatee. His hook was defiantly to big for his arm.

"No way I'm telling you anything!" Sophia took this to mean a challenge she took of her glasses and looked directly at the pot.

"This isn't real marijuana this is lint." He was selling Couch Lint as marijuana.

Raul was visibly worried. "Three blocks down then a left."

"Come on. How could you possibly know that?" The marijuana looked real to me. I wondered how she knew that maybe her glasses made everything blurry so she wouldn't have to see anything. Or maybe she was blind and just had super senses?

"Raul's never been trustworthy. Do anything for a buck." Raul did indeed look like the kind of shady person you would think of.

"Then how do you know he isn''t lying?" I had heard about cold reading before. There were these things called "tells". You could tell when a person is lying. She hadn't even looked at him when she took her glasses off.

"I don't I just thought it would be fun." Yeah fun. Going into the Black Market to hunt a Art Thief. Fun.

As soon as we came around the corner the atmosphere was completely different. This section of the track had been taken out and replaced with a new floor. A single light hung from the ceiling illuminating a square figure under a red tarp.

"Who are you?!" Yelled a thick Russian accent from behind us.

"WHAT THE FUCK!!!" We jumped up. Standing behind us was a very tall, very meaty Russian man pointing a gun directly at us.

"Vat are you doing here?!" Said the tall fat Russian man. I was very surprised that Sophia didn't hear him coming maybe she was so distracted by the painting.

"Darn, I HATE being held at gun point!" Sophia was more experienced with Russian Mobsters than me.

"I'm just a lost blind woman and this nice person was just trying to help me." There went the puppy dog face. The adorable face of cuteness and innocence. The tall fat Russian man lowered his gun.

And Sophia took his kind opportunity to punch him in the face.

"GRAB THE PAINTING AND RUN!!!!" She didn't have to tell me twice.

"COME ON WATSON!!!!"

We ran down the abandoned subway tunnel, a priceless painting under our arms, being chased by a tall fat Russian mobster who was very mad because he had just been punched in the face.

We were in quite a hurry.

There was now over 5 tall fat Russian mobsters chasing us. All yelling obscenities in there respective languages. A barrage of bullets were flying past us at over 820 mph. Several of them going through my tape recorder and notepad spilling the condense of my bag all over the ground. It was ok. I had a pretty good idea I would remember this.

Finally we found another tunnel exit and took the happy opportunity to leave it screaming at the top of our lungs.

"Do cases normally go this WAY!" I yelled gasping between breaths.

"NO that was an exception like. Black Market Palooza." Indeed it was. The two friends headed of to the police station to rub their success in every ones face.