Frozen Hearts Mafia [Family Ties - Mafia/Survivor Victory]

DAY ONE
Word On The Street

JANUARY 16

Days have passed. The coroner's office has since ruled Salazar's death as intentional, and the cause of the fire as arson. Police have been in a tizzy trying to find suspects. I bore witness to an effort to round up 'the usual suspects', which was nothing more than a painful display of desperately trying to implicate a bunch of petty, multi-time shoplifters.

As for me? I'm just keeping my head low. I have no intention of wanting to cause trouble. All I want is to keep my family fed; I am sending well over seventy percent of my paycheck back home.

The meat shop incident has the city paralyzed. For the past few days, only nineteen of the regulars have been visiting. They're sullen, not talkative, decidedly quiet. Many seem to just hang around the cafe all day, sipping coffee and only stepping outside to seek more complete meals and fresh air breaks. Many write or read the paper to pass the time. I get the feeling they're afraid, for some reason. I don't push the subject on them - I only talk about whatever they mention to me.

This morning, I was paid an early visit by the Chief of Police - Chester Lyncroft, I believe his name was. Old man, clearly in his sixties or seventies now. I let him in early, gave him his morning coffee... and then he asked for quite the favor. I've recorded out conversation to the best of my ability below.

"Mr. Blanchard," he started quietly. "I'm certain you're aware that the police department has its hands full with the Salazar case."

"That I am," I replied, taking a sip of my own morning coffee. "It's quite the situation, isn't it?"

"It is," Lyncroft replied. "We have no leads, no evidence, it's maddening. That's why I'm here to talk to you."

I sharply inhaled, stretched for a second, and returned the man's curious stare. "It's been an awfully long time since I worked in the field," I said. "Out of practice and out of commission is how I'd describe me. You wouldn't want me interrogating people out there-"

"I was hoping we could use your detective abilities," Lyncroft cut in.

"If you've got no leads, I've got no leads," I replied. "Not sure what you want me to do about it."

"I've got a bit of a plan," Lyncroft said, a smile creeping onto his wrinkled face. "People are awfully quiet about this business, Mr. Blanchard. You're a bit of a celebrity, and you're protected from outside danger. If people get talking and they start sharing their suspicions, we can find leads. I want you to get people talking."

"That's a bit of a tall order," I said. "People aren't talking, and likely out of fear they'll say something and that'll cross the wrong ears. I think it's best to let information come to light when the bearer is comfortable. They probably don't have anything beyond a handful of suspicions themselves."

"It's probably our best bet," Lyncroft said. "And the police force of Caribou's Den is willing to provide a stipend for your assistance, Mr. Blanchard."

Now I was intrigued. "How much?"

"A quarter of a million dollars," Lyncroft said.

"I'll do as you please, but under two conditions. First of all, that stipend goes to my family and not to me. Secondly, I hold no legal responsibility if this plan results in further trouble."

"You have my word." I shook hands to seal the deal, and Lyncroft left. If it secures my family's financial future, it can't be that bad of an endeavor.

Half and hour later, the regulars began pouring in. All nineteen of them. I had memorized their orders, and spent the time bringing up a certain subject instead of getting their coffees and pastries ready. "How about that arson incident, hm?" Many responded with a few passing comments, most blew it off. It was a little white lie I tacked on, however, that really got people going.

"Word on the street is one of the regulars is responsible."

As soon as they were seated, I saw a discussion start to unfold. I'll do my best to record what they say in shorthand notation, so forgive any hasty note-taking or missing information. Perhaps during my lunch break, I'll pick up a tape recorder from the local electronics shop to make this easier. Let's see if I can't get Lyncroft a good bit of information to start the investigation.

Day One ends June 20th, 10PM EST (about 129.5 hours from now).

With 19 players alive, it takes 10 to lynch and 6 for soft lynch.

Livelist (19/19)
Affle
icanhasdonut
Palamedes
OzTheWizard*
Mirdini
Mister Visceral
Druplesnubb
ElectroMan*
Garuru
Acionyx
makerofthegames
Speedchuck
smash ball
Truegreen*
Stiqqery
Schazer
Ginx-sama
Granolaman
Cat

* = Has not confirmed yet.

PREVIOUS: The Family Business(es) | NEXT: Night One Start: A Chief Mistake