Chapter 16 #4
No answer. No answer. No answer. All they had were questions, and in an act of desperation, Bel drove first to Thing-A-Ma Bob’s and then to Neptune’s Ink.
“Fine.” Ursa spun on her heels and stormed down the hall to her office.
“Have you ever seen either of these men?” Bel shut the door behind them and laid photos of Erik Prince and his father on the desk.
“They don’t look familiar.”
“What about these girls?” Bel pulled out photos of Ondine and Ariella.
“No.”
“Okay, what about any of these women?” She spread out the photos of the mermaids.
“No, again. Sorry.”
“It was a long shot.” Bel tucked the photos away. “Thing-A-Ma Bob’s hadn’t seen them either.”
“Thing-A-Ma who?” Ursa asked.
“A small tattoo shop in Bajka.”
“Oh, I’ve never heard of them. Must not be any good.” Ursa froze. “That sounded stuck-up, didn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Bel smirked. “But you aren’t exactly wrong. Bob admitted it himself. He makes most of his money tattooing flash sale pieces on college students, which is why I hoped he’d recognize these girls.”
“I never do cheap flash sales.” Ursa looked physically repulsed.
“The girls who come to me get pieces that take hours over multiple sessions, but… I guess crappy tattoos are a rite of passage. Even I have them from when I first started. I used to practice on myself.” She twisted her wrist to show Bel a wonky seashell.
“Learning to tattoo. Is it hard?” Bel asked. “Do you need to learn in a shop from a professional, or can you figure it out at home with online tutorials?”
“You can definitely learn at home,” Ursa shoved her wrist at Bel to reiterate her point.
“I bought a hundred-dollar machine online when I was a teenager and learned on practice skin until I was good enough to try human skin… or at least I thought I was good enough. This shell is a mess. Blowouts. Scarring. Unsteady line work. I almost covered it up a few years ago, but ultimately decided not to. This shell reminds me of where I began. And this.” She lifted her skirt to show Bel a female reincarnation of Neptune inked onto her thigh.
“This was my most recent. I did it on myself.”
“Oh my god.” Bel bent down to get a closer look at the masterpiece.
“Uh oh, I can see it in your eyes,” Ursa teased. “You want one now.”
“No… I don’t know,” Bel laughed. “But that’s incredible. And on yourself?”
“Did it upside down through the pain, but I’m one of the few artists I trust.”
“So you progressed from the shell to Lady Neptune all by yourself.”
“Oh no.” Ursa swatted the air. “I eventually apprenticed with a professional, and once I graduated to tattooing clients, I started guest-spotlighting at different shops so I could take lessons from different artists.”
“Is it possible to get as good as you without professional help?”
“No… I don’t know, maybe? Some people are gifted. Are you talking about those mermaid scales?”
“I am.”
“Oh, those aren’t as good as mine. They are definitely talented, but they weren’t on my level. That artist might have learned on his own, especially if he’d been at it for years.”
“Some of the mermaids went missing about ten years ago, so he’s been practicing for at least a decade,” Bel answered.
“If your killer was dedicated, he very well could’ve honed his skill alone. You can learn a lot online. A lot.” Ursa aimed for the door and gestured for Bel to follow. “Come on. The best way for you to understand it is to try it.”
“You want me to tattoo?” Bel chased after her.
“Practice skin, but yes.” Ursa went to her station and demonstrated a sanitary setup as well as how to assemble the machine and wrap the handle. She then showed her how to print and apply the stencil, a simple pitbull figure at Bel’s request.
“So, you said your killer has been tattooing for years?” Ursa asked as she guided Bel’s vibrating hand along the stencil.
“That’s when some of his earlier victims went missing.” Bel cringed at the glaring mistakes she'd littered the practice skin with despite Ursa’s guidance.
“Well, Neptune’s Ink hasn’t been open that long if you’re thinking of asking for my alibi again.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I didn’t always tattoo in this area, though,” Ursa continued.
“I’ve been all over the place. Your killer may have done the same.
He might not have taught himself. He could’ve apprenticed in another state long before he moved to this neck of the woods.
It might be worth looking into people who weren’t born and raised here… but I’m not the detective.”
“And I’m not a tattoo artist.” Bel removed her gloved hands from the garbled mess that was supposed to be a dog.
“No, but you could be,” Ursa said. “You have a fairly steady hand—probably from your firearm certifications—, but if you practiced, you would get the hang of it, don’t you think?”
“I usually finish what I start.”
“And that’s why you came here. To see if someone could unconventionally master this art.
I think we proved our point.” Ursa wiped away the pooling ink to reveal the practice skin tattoo, and without the mess, Bel had to admit it looked slightly better.
She could at least recognize that the tattoo was of a pitbull.
“Now, I have a question for you,” Ursa continued. “Are you going to let me tattoo you?”