RE: Incident [TEXT]
07-01-2013, 11:26 PM
“One and two in the morning?” You repeat it back to her, just to buy yourself a few seconds to recover. Really, it's nothing to worry about. As a private detective, you have the tried and tested 'client confidentiality' line to fall back on. The police will rage and spit but there's not a damn thing they can do about it. It's not even a complete lie.
You can get out of this. Just got to keep calm. Get out of here, then you can think about the Myriad.
“I was with a client.” Drake's eyes narrow, anticipating what you're about to say, and you have to suppress a smirk. “They could give me an alibi, but unfortunately they're a semi-public figure who would much prefer that our meeting was kept confidential and as such-”
She waves a hand dismissively.
“Right, right, I understand. I've unlucky enough to have dealt with PIs before. Where'd you get that black eye?”
The sudden change of direction in the conversation catches you off guard.
“Oh, uh – a misunderstanding.”
“Not with your client, I should hope. You didn't have it yesterday evening.”
“I got jumped by some goons outside of my office last night. Apparently I'd been nosing around where I wasn't wanted.” You shrug like that happens all the time. “They dragged me off to someone a little higher up on the hierarchy and roughed me up a bit. They were just trying to put the scare on me.”
She nods, and you suddenly realise just how tired she looks. Whatever developments there were in the Dupont case, they very well could have kept her up all night.
“That correlates with the report we got last night. Somebody got sapped and dragged off outside your office. Must have been you. I don't suppose you'd be willing to report the people who intimidated you?”
You laugh, somewhat grimly.
“How stupid do you think I am?”
“I have to ask. But fair enough.” Drake is smiling a little, but in terms of humour it's a good match for your own laugh. She reaches for the file again and takes out another photo. It's laid down on the desk in front of you, just like the other, but this one is facing down and Drake seems to hesitate just a moment before letting go of it.
She leans back and considers you carefully.
“Turn it over,” she says.
You spare her a curious glance, but otherwise lean closer and do so promptly.
The photo is of a brick wall. The only point of interest is the hastily drawn symbol: a triangle with two thick lines beneath it.
You tense up instantly – Esser! – then realise you shouldn't have done that and quickly glance up at Drake to see if she noticed, just a split second after your brain screams at you not to do that. Her eyes narrow.
You clear your throat. “What is this?”
“You don't recognise it?”
You look at the photo again, as if making sure, but you know your answer. This is the symbol Esser showed you last night. It seems you were wrong – he didn't kill anyone just prior to your last meeting because he already had a dead body hanging around. If you hadn't walked in on him, you're willing to bet that crime scene would have looked very different. So: he murdered Dupont, heard you enter, fled, and then returned after the meeting in the Old Bank to finish up. And made his mark. The brick wall implies that he did this outside, but makes sense. The room where Dupont died would be too busy.
Esser ate Dupont. The Black Arrow Killer has well and truly returned.
“No, I don't. What does this have to do with Mr Dupont?”
And that's the point where Drake removes the façade and tells you exactly what you realised just seconds before. She tells you about how the body went missing some time between one and two, stolen from the crime scene, which not only revealed your name but also gave them a rather serious problem. She tells you that they found what was left of the old man in an alley about two hundred yards away from the building he lived and died in, and what state he was in. (Decapitated and eaten, as Alence described.) She doesn't mention the mark on the wall, but she does tell you the name of the serial killer and that his last kill was two years ago. Nothing you didn't suspect.
“One thing that does lend credence to you walking in on the killer is the delay between the victim's death and the... treatment the Black Arrow Killer put him through. It's not impossible that you created that gap purposefully, but you don't seem capable of hauling a corpse down a building and a street, let alone without being noticed.” It's with an edge of steel that she adds, “I could be wrong about that though.”
You just nod. Nice to know that every damn person is aware of that rumour.
Drake tries to needle you a little bit more but she doesn't have anything solid on you and, after you make a pointed remark about having other things to do today, she's forced to let you go. A few minutes later you're reclaiming your belongings (the officer at the desk gives you a bit of an odd look that you can only assume is due to the gyroscope) and diving into the first taxi you can thumb down.
When you burst into the waiting room of your office you find a courier with a gigantic (and it really is huge) bouquet of blue flowers and a casually dressed woman peppered with splodges of paint flicking through one of the magazines you keep on the table.
They both look up, evidently a little surprised by your boisterous entrance. At least the feeling's mutual.
You can get out of this. Just got to keep calm. Get out of here, then you can think about the Myriad.
“I was with a client.” Drake's eyes narrow, anticipating what you're about to say, and you have to suppress a smirk. “They could give me an alibi, but unfortunately they're a semi-public figure who would much prefer that our meeting was kept confidential and as such-”
She waves a hand dismissively.
“Right, right, I understand. I've unlucky enough to have dealt with PIs before. Where'd you get that black eye?”
The sudden change of direction in the conversation catches you off guard.
“Oh, uh – a misunderstanding.”
“Not with your client, I should hope. You didn't have it yesterday evening.”
“I got jumped by some goons outside of my office last night. Apparently I'd been nosing around where I wasn't wanted.” You shrug like that happens all the time. “They dragged me off to someone a little higher up on the hierarchy and roughed me up a bit. They were just trying to put the scare on me.”
She nods, and you suddenly realise just how tired she looks. Whatever developments there were in the Dupont case, they very well could have kept her up all night.
“That correlates with the report we got last night. Somebody got sapped and dragged off outside your office. Must have been you. I don't suppose you'd be willing to report the people who intimidated you?”
You laugh, somewhat grimly.
“How stupid do you think I am?”
“I have to ask. But fair enough.” Drake is smiling a little, but in terms of humour it's a good match for your own laugh. She reaches for the file again and takes out another photo. It's laid down on the desk in front of you, just like the other, but this one is facing down and Drake seems to hesitate just a moment before letting go of it.
She leans back and considers you carefully.
“Turn it over,” she says.
You spare her a curious glance, but otherwise lean closer and do so promptly.
The photo is of a brick wall. The only point of interest is the hastily drawn symbol: a triangle with two thick lines beneath it.
You tense up instantly – Esser! – then realise you shouldn't have done that and quickly glance up at Drake to see if she noticed, just a split second after your brain screams at you not to do that. Her eyes narrow.
You clear your throat. “What is this?”
“You don't recognise it?”
You look at the photo again, as if making sure, but you know your answer. This is the symbol Esser showed you last night. It seems you were wrong – he didn't kill anyone just prior to your last meeting because he already had a dead body hanging around. If you hadn't walked in on him, you're willing to bet that crime scene would have looked very different. So: he murdered Dupont, heard you enter, fled, and then returned after the meeting in the Old Bank to finish up. And made his mark. The brick wall implies that he did this outside, but makes sense. The room where Dupont died would be too busy.
Esser ate Dupont. The Black Arrow Killer has well and truly returned.
“No, I don't. What does this have to do with Mr Dupont?”
And that's the point where Drake removes the façade and tells you exactly what you realised just seconds before. She tells you about how the body went missing some time between one and two, stolen from the crime scene, which not only revealed your name but also gave them a rather serious problem. She tells you that they found what was left of the old man in an alley about two hundred yards away from the building he lived and died in, and what state he was in. (Decapitated and eaten, as Alence described.) She doesn't mention the mark on the wall, but she does tell you the name of the serial killer and that his last kill was two years ago. Nothing you didn't suspect.
“One thing that does lend credence to you walking in on the killer is the delay between the victim's death and the... treatment the Black Arrow Killer put him through. It's not impossible that you created that gap purposefully, but you don't seem capable of hauling a corpse down a building and a street, let alone without being noticed.” It's with an edge of steel that she adds, “I could be wrong about that though.”
You just nod. Nice to know that every damn person is aware of that rumour.
Drake tries to needle you a little bit more but she doesn't have anything solid on you and, after you make a pointed remark about having other things to do today, she's forced to let you go. A few minutes later you're reclaiming your belongings (the officer at the desk gives you a bit of an odd look that you can only assume is due to the gyroscope) and diving into the first taxi you can thumb down.
When you burst into the waiting room of your office you find a courier with a gigantic (and it really is huge) bouquet of blue flowers and a casually dressed woman peppered with splodges of paint flicking through one of the magazines you keep on the table.
They both look up, evidently a little surprised by your boisterous entrance. At least the feeling's mutual.
Spoiler