Her paw lingered on the door handle, grasping it as though she might change her mind and head back in. Perhaps, she hoped, if she delayed long enough Alfie might shrug off his stubbornness and walk through that door as well. With a sigh she finally marched down the stoop, tugging her vest back into perfect pressed place as she looked towards the way she came when she arrived at the Alley.

In truth, Murina did not know what she had expected when she came to visit Alphonse’s family. The Rozich article and what little information she could find on the Alley left only the vaguest impressions of what it was like in the nests of the residences, focusing more on the broad picture and the issues surrounding this area of Toxteth. It was very much something she wasn’t used to. Though being a rat herself, her own lineage was conservative in numbers, having only a handful of cousins and a solitary older brother to speak of. But she knew it wasn’t uncommon for murines, especially those living in poverty, to have multiple large litters. But even the sum of Alphonse’s immediate family had Muri struggling to catch her own breath just trying to keep up with the names.

The biggest surprise, though, was the way Alphonse acted around his kin. She knew he wasn’t the monster some people seemed to think he was, but even Murina was a bit taken aback by how good he was with his siblings. For someone who had not a kind word to say to anyone during his visit to America, it was a relief he was capable of subdued emotion at all. Even among the decaying patina that laced his home life, with his exceedingly poor surroundings, too many mouths to feed and overwhelmed caregivers, Alfie’s genuine affection to his family provided a glimmer of hope for his future, that perhaps there was a gentler side waiting to be tapped into.

That warm feeling dulled the unpleasant prick of Alphonse’s stubbornness and outburst, at least for a quick moment. The slight grin that had formed on her face from the thought of Alfie coddling the shyest of his siblings soon faded, replaced by stern determination as she hastened her pace out of the Alley, the waning sun already turning the sky golden. What nervousness she had walking through the Alley before was masked by her persistent frustration with Alfie, convincing herself that he was committed to being a pain in her ass even while on his home turf. She did not let her gaze linger like before, though it was not hard to notice the court was clear and that many of the inhabitants had since retreated to their respective homes for their meager suppers. She paid no mind to those that remained, unsure if she heard voices calling out to her from the side streets or if she was just imagining things. She didn’t realize she was nearly at a jog by the time she cleared the park.

Her mind started to clear as she approached the road the cab driver had dropped her off at earlier in the day. Though there were no signs to say so, no fence or gate, she swore she could feel the difference between being in Rat Alley and stepping out into the rest of Toxteth, even before she saw a pair of ravens walking down the street, unconcerned. Muri looked over her shoulder, a final glace at the rat-centric neighborhood off in the distance, which seemed to be growing darker in shadows long before the surrounding neighborhoods were. She took a final deep breath, sighing out the last bit of anxiety that had built up with her first visit and extended a paw to hail an approaching taxi.

As they moved out of the Toxteth neighborhoods, the wiry hare driving the cab gave a crooked bucktoothed grin and chimed, “Where to, Miss?”

“I need a drink,” she sighed, the cabby giving a chuckle. She asked for any recommendation that was quiet. The blond colored hare nodded.

“Got just the ticket,” he sang. Figuring she was a tourist, he gave a short spiel about the pub’s history and what he recommended she get for food and drink. She only half heard, nodding out of politeness. Fishing through her bag for cab fare she found two stray aspirins in her bag, which she automatically popped them into her mouth out of habit.

The cab let her out in front of a fairly picturesque stretch of property, the pub in question having a very old and majestic looking façade, something very indicative of a posh Liverpool tavern. The lights inside glowed as the sun finally started to set, feeling quite inviting and comforting compared to the neighborhood she had just come from.

Thankfully, the interior was spacious and not too crowded, even for the time and day, which made her practically melt into her seat at the rustic wooden bar. She began realizing just how exhausted she was, sitting up only to the sound of the barkeep’s deep but friendly voice.

“Evening, Miss. What can I get you?” the badger behind the bar gave the space in front of Murina a courtesy wipe before putting down a coaster, waiting for her order. Though she came to the bar specifically for a drink, she seemed blindsided by the question, still lost in thought in her fatigued mind.

“Glass of wine, please. Um… white,” she waved her hand, seeming less interested in the drink than she originally was. “And a chicken salad please, no dressing.” The badger nodded, slipping back behind the bar. The back rat’s head rolled against her shoulders, silently groaning at her tender muscles. She didn’t get a chance to do her workout, and probably wasn’t going to get the chance. Her meandering thoughts drifted over another thought, causing her to perk up and reach for her phone.

“So, ready to come home?” Harris’s voice, dry witted as ever, said without even a greeting.

“Ready to go to bed,” she elevated her voice in an effort to at least start the conversation without sounding like a defeated wreck. Murina smiled at the badger as a glass of wine appears on her coaster. “I just got back from meeting his family. Stopped in at a pub before I head back to hotel.”

“Is he with you?” It seemed to be the kind of question that would steer the conversation one way or another, though Murina knew Harris would not be shy about talking frankly about Alphonse even if he were right beside her. Murina took a sip of wine before answering.

“No, he didn’t seem interested in going out to dinner. I didn’t get much of a chance to talk with him after I met his family. But I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Ah.” The blunt tone in his voice prodded Murina in the worst way. Since she had taken on Alphonse Norwich IV, every small gesture Harris made felt like a flagrant slight against her client, though she was sure she was just imagining things. Harris had every right to be skeptical, and it made Murina want to work that much harder to prove him wrong. “And how was your first excursion into the infamous Rat Alley?”

“Uneventful,” she lied, leaving out the first particularly uneasy encounter with a group of bold male rats. She took a particularly long sip from her glass. “I’m learning a lot though. I’m finally getting the big picture behind this guy. It’s all starting to… make sense.”

“So is his family as crazy as he is?”

“No, that’s the thing,” she continued, ignoring Harris’s jab, “He’s so different when he’s with his family. It’s practically night and day. I’m going to find out more tomorrow, I really couldn’t get past a few small talk topics this time. I think it’s hard for them to warm up to someone like me.”

“I’m sure you’ll win them over. Lick boot if you have to.”

“Ugh, why do I even talk to you,” she groused with a full smile.

“Because I’m your outside observer, and I can tell when you’re in over your head.”

“And?”

“And… I’m surprised. You haven’t backed down yet, Muri, even though you should. Can someone admire and pity someone at the same time?”

“I’m sure you can make it work, Harris. Anyway, I’m getting some great information. Between what I’ve gathered so far and all the material I have from his visit, the FBA and the public aren’t going to give his rough edges a second thought.”

“Hope you’re right.”

“I am,” Muri chirped, feeling as though it was her turn for her words to stick in Harris’s craw. “I’ll have some articles for you to look over tomorrow. I’ll call you then.”

They regarded each other’s parting words just as the badger came back with a cold dish of greens and grilled chicken.

“Beg pardon for eaves dropping, Miss, but you say you work for the FBA? American basketball?”

Muri’s smile came a little easier, the normal annoyance of butting in on her phone conversation abated with the chance of testing the waters and talking up her prospect.

“Not quite. I’m an agent for many athletes in the FBA. The draft is coming up and I’m in town to work with one of my clients.”

“Izzat so?” the badger grinned, mopping the bar, “From here in Liverpool?”

Muri nodded, her self-satisfied grin lingering on her muzzle. “Yep. A talented young local guy. He’s…” Murina paused only slightly to smith her words, “Had a bit of a tough lot in life. I am hoping to help him achieve some great things and help his family.”

“Oh! Yeah, I think I heard o’ that bloke!” a nice dress German Shorthair Pointer university student piped up from a seat at a table just beyond the bar, unable to help but overhear. That came as a bit of a surprise to Muri, though not an unpleasant one, as the dog and his ferret friend looked a tad thrilled to know who she was speaking of.

“Yeah!” the ferret chimed in, a look of recognition on his face, “Yeah, that mongoose chap! From south Liverpool? My mate Jim saw’r him play, says he’s rather good. I heard he was going in on the FBA this year.”

The smile on Muri’s face was frozen with great effort, but the bottom of her stomach sank a tad. She finished off her glass of wine in one long gulp.

“N-no, I’m afraid that’s not my client. He’s um… he’s from Toxteth, actually and—”

“Toxteth?” a fourth bar patron, a dark gray shorthaired cat further down the bar, butted in. It was evident that this individual had been a few pints in by now. “Not one of those fuckin’ Alley rats from ‘at piss hole, izzit?”

The silence that followed was suffocating, setting Murina on edge as the bottom completely fell out of her stomach. The look on her face must have worried the bartender as he leaned towards the cat and in a hushed tone told him not to speak so crassly to a lady. Murina finally broke her dead gaze, realizing he was gripping her empty wine glass too hard. She took a breath in, trying to formulate a response.

“Oh no offense to you, miss. ‘M not talking all rats. Some of my best mates is rats,” the cat blurted out, slurring as he leaned towards Muri, though he was several seats away. He turned back to his mostly empty pint and Muri thought it was the end of that.

“Iz just those rats, you know?” the cat stumbled on. Muri turned back to her dish of untouched salad, intent on ignoring the cat as she hoped the other bar patrons would as well. “Jus’ a den of thugs and thieves, that is. Really the bottom rung for Toxteth, an’ I feel sorry for ‘em! ‘Aven to live next to those horrid creatures.”

“Now, that’s not fair,” the barkeep felt obligated to try and defuse the topic, “It’s only a small part of that area, you can’t blame all of Toxteth’s woes on a few bad neighbors.”

The cat snorted a derisive scoff. “Thugs and thieves.” The cat downed the last of his pint.

“You know,” the Pointer interjected, his voice more careful than before, more to the effect that he might catch unwanted attention from the creatures he was speaking of, and not so much to avoid insulting the only rat in the bar. “My cousin was accosted by some of those rats last summer. Roughed him up and took his wallet. Told him he shouldn’t be on that side of town after dark.”

“Izzat all?” the gray cat continued, unable to help himself. “You tell your cuz he was lucky to be off with his skin! Them kinds o’ rats will cut your ears off for a pound, and more for just bein’ something other than one o’ them filthy creatures.” The cat no longer cared or noticed that Murina was sitting at the bar to hear all the ill words about rats he had.

“It’s true, you know,” the ferret added, nodding to his Pointer friend. “My mate ran into a whole mess of ‘em just off the road west of Toxteth. Came off with a broken arm and a cut on his face. Said he was just trying to ask the time, an’ they attacked him!”

“But I tell you what,” the increasingly belligerent cat tapped the counter hard to make his point as well as signal for another beer. The badger didn’t budge. “You get any one of those naked tails alone outside their nest? They ain’t got a pot to piss in.” He cackled knowingly, the others exchanging glances. “Why if I saw’r one within a half a block off his precious Alley, it’d be a different story, I say. Those Tocky bastards wouldn’t stand a chance out here. Why you think stay hold up in that pisshole? Sure ain’t for the posh flats, I tell you that much!” Another round of course laughter.

“I know I’d sure hate to meet even one of those rats so far from the Alley,” the ferret admitted, looking down at his own mug. “Not so much that I’d be afraid of him. But… well, it does seem better off they do stay put, isn’t it?”

“If they stay put!” the cat scoffed, picking up his mug as though it had been filled again, which it hadn’t. “The police don’t give a fuck about them OR the folks they terrorize! ‘ow many arrests they made for all the trouble they caused? They don’t care! And if you ask me, it’s a big mistake! Them nit covered criminals’ll keep to their own soggy slum if they know what’s good for them!”

The feline leaned in as the barkeep took his empty pint out of his paw, muttering with fierce intent. “If I could get one o’ those greasy bastards alone, I’d clock ‘im over his head with one ‘o those. Send ‘im home cryin to his mum.” It was becoming abundantly clear to Murina why Alphonse had refused to come with her. She had never imagined his stubbornness to be a form of self-preservation, feeling particularly chastened by her foolish assumption that Alfie would have no problems back in his own city. Another round of silence only helped Murina realize how nauseous the cat’s tirade had made her, unable to look at her dish of food. The group seemed to have forgotten how the topic was even brought up, which Murina was grateful for.

“Well, piss on all their graves!” the cat said loudly finally coming off his seat at the bar when he realized he wasn’t getting served again. He was barely able to pull a few bills from his pocket without swaying a bit. “You ask me, that whole nest o’ rats just needs to be burned to the ground. Be better off without ‘em, an’ no one’d miss ‘em. Nothing but thieves n’ thugs. That’s the truth.”

The slam of Murina’s fit on the bar rattled the cups and plates atop it, startling everyone and nearly sent the cat toppling back onto his bar stool.

“No, that is NOT the truth and it is NOT just filled with thugs and thieves!” her voice was much louder than anyone could expect come from a rodent of her size, and the glare she gave to all the patrons was positively venomous. She took advantage of the stupor the mouthy gray cat was in, and paid her tab before he could formulate another insensitive retort. The door of the pub clattered as she slammed it behind herself.

Murina marched out as furiously as she had from Alphonse’s home, blood boiling as she realized she did not know where she was storming off too. The moment soon passed and she stopped moving altogether, tilting her head back and sighing, suddenly realizing a tear had dampened her cheek during her grand exit. She brushed it off with her fingertips, almost startled by its presence. Murina had a reputation of being unshakable. Her line of work brought many surprises and obstacles, and had been told worse things to her face. She could take it all in stride and unwavering grace. It took an amount of stoic fortitude to get through certain things she encountered in her life, both in her profession, and otherwise. To let a tipsy bar patron get under her skin so easily was almost beyond her understanding.

It wasn’t the truth. That is to say, it wasn’t all of the truth. Beyond the streets that outsiders dare not walk, behind all the big bad Biters that were literally the face of the Alley and caused so much havoc. There were families back there, in the rundown buildings those hooligans viciously fought for. Murina remembered the shy runt that scampered to his brother’s side, and the story Alfonse told of him getting picked on, and how he stood up for him. Wiping out the Biters’ nest wouldn’t just be wiping out the Biters. It would be wiping them all out.

And yet. Murina knew it did not excuse the state things were in. There was something unsettling about hearing the grisly stories directly from locals, rather than the black and white print in the glow of her oPhone, confirming what she could only imagine. She remembered back to the tense encounter on the basketball court, and what Richter had said about being one misstep away from trouble. She shuttered to think that any of those rats might have had something to do with what the locals in the pub were describing, feeling a newfound appreciation for Alfie showing up when he did. And she wrapped herself in that feeling as she looked back into the street to get the attention of a passing cab. Alfonse wasn’t those rats, surely he wasn’t. He cared about his family too much and he did so well when he was surrounded by them. How could a rat that was that gentile be as cruel as those Biters, Murina convinced herself.

“Brentwood Hotel, please,” Muri murmured, almost in an unsure tone as she slid into the cab. Tomorrow was going to be another long day, and for once she was worried about what she might uncover, and questioned whether she wanted to know at all.