Let Your Fingers Do the Walking

[SceneMod]

Follows Down in the Dumps, Day 8. Semi-private

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The address linked to the phone number in question brings the unlikely duo (quad?) to a fairly respectable part of town, not so far away from the tourist and business track as it might once have been. Respectable, in that it is fairly clean, with few of the markers typical to urban low-to-middle class income areas, and that there is a fairly high private security presence. The security is likely tied to the high-rise condos that squat uncomfortably close to one another, their gold-trimmed, frayed awnings and bored, slightly disheveled doormen hinting of a better era. The architecture perhaps once was grand, but the clean lines of nouveau and deco styling are blurred by wear and a layer of grime that can't quite be cleaned off, though some pressure washers are trying diligently to do so on a building down the way.

There are no tree, no hedges, though there are obvious places where such things might once have grown: poured concrete circles in the middle of the sidewalk, obviously newer than the walk slabs; bricked in retaining walls that once held flower beds and now serve as little more than impromptu trash dumps; mini parks of glass and steel where lonely, weather-worn benches offer cold comfort to the wearied walker. The neighborhood itself is surrounded by a high wrought iron fence, now rusted and peeling, and what once was probably a gate check sits empty and abandoned, half-crumbling.

Old construction. The area once might have been the gem of some urban developer's eye, but as often happens in such situations, walls and fences could not keep out the press of the city, and those with the money to afford to live above the crush moved further out, erected fences built of policy and law instead, and the city within a city fell to ruin. Signs posted here and there proclaim this neighborhood as a shining example of urban renewal, proof that citizens working together can push out the negative elements, can create anew from the leavings of those without the fortitude to try. Even some businesses have opened, and a few of the buildings originally designed as commerce centers sport new paint and bright signs in the window declaring such and such open for business.

A lot of those Hales in the phonebook seem to live in this neighborhood, if anyone noticed, a fully seventy-five percent in fact.

K'ire Hale's building is in the middle of the clutch, one of the tallest, and also, one of the best kept. The doorman here is a bit better dressed, and does not look bored. In fact, he gives off the vibe that he takes his job very, very seriously. He frowns at a police car that is pulling away from the curb, then adopts the neutral expression one often sees on valets and bouncers alike.

[Kup]

Someone else might have noticed that about the Hales once Kup handed off the phone book. Kup himself has been too busy driving.

He drives past the building of interest and continues on down the street a good ways, turns a corner onto a side road, and then again into an alley.

He opens his cab doors and announces, "All right, all out. I needa get dressed and I'm thinkin' they might frown on me doing it in the middle of the street."

[Spinister]

Singe and Hairsplitter pile out. Singe looks very sullen and disgruntled, like riding around in a beat up truck is beneath him. Hairsplitter has no such problems, and when he piles out, he merely looks very alert.

Spinister, having done some undercover work in Kup's bed, neatly folds the tarp and puts it back where he found it before piling out of Kup.

He holds up the phonebook, opens to the section on Ha, and he runs his finger down it, pointing out that there are an awful lot of Hales in this area.

But that's not the kicker. Spinister gives Kup a few moment to read that much. Then, he flicks into the yellow pages. There is a rather large add for a temple and homeless shelter, with a picture of a smiling avian priest, and a caption identifying him as Father Hale, head of that temple, and a female priestess, unidentified, next to him.

This is the same temple mentioned in the articles.

(Yes, Spinister read the phonebook cover to cover while in Kup's bed. He's never really had a phonebook before and wasn't entirely sure what to do with it. He was honestly looking for Weviels - didn't find any.)

[Kup]

Kup transforms as soon as his passengers are out, then takes a look at the things Spinister points out, covers his face with his right hand, and groans.

Then he shakes his head, removes his clothing from subspace, and puts them on before muttering, "Come on, let's get on with this."

He then ambles back towards the side road, and then towards the main street. He doesn't look like he's paying much attention to the world around him, but a trained observer should be able to determine that he's more alert than he seems as he approaches the main street and looks up and down it.

[Spinister]

Spinister, just as Spinister, isn't exactly in a position to understand that similar names often imply familial relations among organics. Spinister as Singe and Hairsplitter can make a bit more sense of it.

So, the Hales have a history of living in this area, and one of them runs the temple wherein the victims eat their last meals. So perhaps it makes sense why that reporter Hale would investigate the issue - perhaps it troubled a relative or neighbour.

Or maybe they're behind all of this and maybe Tweety Jill is actually the killer and...

...speculation.

Hairsplitter frowns a bit, mentally reminding Spinister about that police car pulling away. Spinister really has to wonder if perhaps he should change into something else, but he's technically on the job, so...

So the first rule of not being noticed is not to not be seen. The first rule is to be doing something that no one notices. True, no one notices someone unseen, but no one notices someone doing something forgettable, either.

Adopting a slightly bored air, Spinister pulls out a clipboard, strides over a meter, and checks the time on it.

Singe and Hairsplitter meander closer to Kup, getting on with this.

[SceneMod]

Everything looks perfectly normal on the street. Traffic is light; it's still a bit early for the late afternoon rush home. The amount of effort being put into renovating the neighborhood is a bit more apparent, because it's easier to see things like patched concrete and painted over graffiti when you aren't driving.

The meter Spinister checks is paid up, as are all the meters in the line. Even the ones that don't have cars at them.

There is no foot traffic. The area is...oddly quiet for such a full neighborhood.

All the doormen are pointedly ignoring all the newcomers.

[Kup]

Kup almost has difficulty maintaining the air of indifference. Almost. He may not see the meters, but in a hundred other ways, there's just something wrong with this area.

Still, he keeps up the absent-minded amble as he heads down the street, towards the target building. He doesn't even seem to notice the doorman as he tries to walk by. If needed, he'll absently shove the other out of the way with a shoulder, like one lost in his own thoughts and not quite making sure their path is clear, but should the fellow put up any real resistance, he'll pause.

[Spinister]

Spinister putters along, checking parking meters in an unhurried, nonchalant manner. He doesn't frown or let his brow furrow when he sees that they're all paid, even the unoccupied ones. After all, he likes it spooky! He does seems to vaguely recall that it is a crime to pay off parking meters that you are not using, so if he can catch the culprit, he can... hrm. He wants to think 'see justice done', but he's really not sure that applies in such a case.

While Spinister is pondering the ethics of parking meters, Singe follows at Kup's heels. Someone has to stay with the old man, and Hairsplitter...

...Hairsplitter has a much finer sense of attention to detail than Singe does, so Hairsplitter, from his ground level view, is noticing the newly patched sidewalks, even as Spinister, at normal sophont height, is observing the painted over graffiti. Hairsplitter tries to meander around the building, looking for other possible entrances - a basement window carelessly left open, a back door slightly ajar, a fire escape up to some laundry hung from an upper window...

[SceneMod]

The doorman of K'ire's building is a very large creature who appears almost poured into his crisply pressed, gold-trimmed gabardine suit. It's the kind of suit one sees on marching band members, heavy and it doesn't breath. It's obviously tailored to the man (?), but it still seems too tight, his muscled girth straining the fabric. He has beady eyes set deep in a porcine head, a snout instead of a nose, and curling tusks jutting out from his lower lips.

When Kup attempts to shoulder by him, the doorman just shoves out an arm, attempting to block the oldtimer's path. He grunts and looks expectantly at Kup. State your business, yo.

Hairsplitter doesn't find any open windows or ajar basement doors. What he will find is that every first floor window (and the above floors, if he goes trotting up the fire escape to check) is not just shut, but doesn't appear to open from either side. The glass isn't class at all, but a specialized acrylic polymer that mimics the clarity and reflective qualities of glass while being much stronger and thicker while at the same time almost flexible, not brittle at all. If the sniper rifle does some quick calculations, he might come to the conclusion that it would take a some serious firepower to breach the window panes.

If he continues to the roof, he'll find a skylight whose seal is starting to separate. He might be able to slip through that.

[Kup]

Kup offers a bored frown to the doorman when the alien blocks his path. He's pretty sure he could still muscle his way through - he can hold his own against most Dinobots, after all - but he isn't so sure he can get through without hurting the guy, or drawing more attention than he wants to.

The veteran considers matters but very briefly. While there are good reasons not to show his cards just yet, but there are a few good ones to do so as well, the biggest one being that the doorman's reaction in and of itself might give him some clue as to what's going on.

"Here to talk to K'ire Hale," he says simply.

[Spinister]

Spinister just keeps ambling along and checking parking meters. He could do this aaaaalllll day long, though hopefully, he won't have to.

Hairsplitter, meanwhile, is scaling a fire escape. This is tricky, dangerous work, given his small size relative to the fire escape, but he is thrilled to be doing so, anyway! Field work is so much more exciting than a boring, stuffy office job where everyone groaned whenever he opened his mouth. In fact, his boss appreciates him, enjoys Hairsplitter's insistence on accuracy.

...enjoys Hairsplitter's back of the envelope calculations about the windows. You do not put in sniper-resistant windows unless you expect gunshots to be fired. Granted, on Pz-Zazz, gunshots are common all over the place, but they still use cheap glass windows for the most part.

Hairsplitter peers at the skylight and plays with the seal. Hrm, anyone down there?

Singe just pretends that he's with Kup.

[SceneMod]

The doorman stares at Kup for a few seconds, lip curling in what might be a smile, but looks more like a sneer because of the tusks.

"Pop'lar lady today. 'Specially since she's in at Angels a' Entropy in the crit ward. But them cops said more people'd be back and forth, doin' whatever needs doin'. Bad business. She's a good kid." He points at a electronic signing pad by the door. "Just be sure to sign the register."

The doorman isn't really acknowledging Singe's presence, as if the Nebulan is below him. Maybe he doesn't like little folk.

The skylight Hairsplitter is examining seems to be over an unlit hallway, or possibly a stairwell. No one appears to be below. Of course, there's also no guarantee that if Hairpsplitter drops in that he'll find an open exit.

Oh look, one of the meters looks like it ought to be expiring soon!

[Kup]

Angels of Entropy? What the blazes is up with this place? Kup wonders. Even his own universe's Pz-Zazz wasn't this into Unicronian, Destruction, or Entropic religions!

"Yeah. Shame about her," the bounty hunter agrees with the doorman's comment about it being bad business. "And yeah, yeah, I got it." He steps over to the datapad and signs the name 'Kael K'nall', then heads the rest of the way in, glancing a moment down at Singe. As soon as they're in the elevator, he mutters, "Y'got that?" Meaning, more particularly, has Spinister got what the doorman had to say?

[Spinister]

Yes! Victory is his! Spinister will just wander down the street a bit, and then, when the meter expires, he'll strike.

Singe's voice cuts into his head, Hey, Spinister?

?

Next time Needlenose asks you to go to a dance club, just go.

?

Won't even make fun of you. Promise. Because you seriously need to get out more.

Singe nods when Kup looks down at him. "So, not our girl? Or she escaped? Or... bah." Bitter, bitter, bitter.

Hairsplitter, meanwhile, decides to try slipping down the skylight. He may enjoy fieldwork more than he has sense.

[SceneMod]

As Kup and Singe head in, they'll notice a security guard in the lobby, in a nicely pressed uniform. No visible weapon, but then, the coat is cut so that it could easily accommodate a shoulder holster.

The elevator is a true high-class job, mirrored and velveted, and a smiling- but not perky- operator who takes Kup to the appropriate floor. During the ride, which is smooth, Kup and Singe might notice that the silvering in the mirror has slipped down, giving reflections a slightly off appearance, and that the crimson velvet is worn thin in places.

The elevator doors open with a soft ding. The hallway is empty. K'ire's apartment is six doors down on the right. Kup and Singe might be able to hear the sound of peephole covers sliding open and shut as they make their way down.

The doorjamb is sealed with crime scene tape.

Hairsplitter's adventures in skylight diving go well enough. He's dropped into what looks like the emergency stairwell, but it's definitely not being kept to code. No emergency lighting, and the railing is rickety at best.