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The Murder of the Boxer
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Acemaster
Acemaster
Well-Connected

Jan-20-2009 12:15

((In case you missed the other threads, check out: The USS Sleuthetania, the any location place ;), and The Expecting Miss Violet Parr.))

Ah, France. Not just France, but Paris, France.

Scarlett, Clift, Ace, and Vivienne decided to cut their wonderful trip to New York short. They had lost Violet, but they were to meet her when they got into Paris.

Clift picked up a newspaper. "MURDER IN THE RED LIGHT DISTRICT!" was emblazoned across the top of the page. Clift red it for a few moments as Ace chattered with Scarlett and Vivienne. They waited for Violet outside of a little cafe, knowing they'd be waiting for a while.

"Wow!" Clift interrupted his friends, "Guess who's dead?"
"Who?" Scarlett jumped.
"Joey Bane."
"Bane is dead?" Ace inquired.
"Apparently he murdered a man and was shot down by police."
"Who was the man?" Vivvy asked.
"I don't know. It doesn't go into it."
"What happened?" Scarlett asked.
"Foot pursuit on the docks. They shot him and he went over the rail into the ocean. They didn't find the body for several hours."

Just then, Violet's cab pulled up. The group hadn't yet reserved a table, so they grabbed one now.

"Remember, Ace." Scarlett asked, "No ketchup!"
"Ha ha ha." Ace mocked, "And no soda! Especially not in Italy."
"We are in France, not the boot of Europe." Violet spoke up from behind.
"Hey, Violetta!" Ace teased.
"Hey, Tonail." Everyone laughed at the comeback.

Replies

Acemaster
Acemaster
Well-Connected

Jan-20-2009 12:21

((Stupid me! EDIT: The body was never found. Sorry... ))

Scarlett Masters
Scarlett Masters

Jan-20-2009 12:38

*Later, in a back alley*

"Ah, Mr. Bane. We meet again."
"Yes, I suppose we do! Hello Scarlett."
"Hello. Close one at the docks, wasn't it?"
"Thank you for helping me." Bane replied.
"Sure, no problem."
"Will you help with the next one?"
"Of course. Ace might, too."
"That'd be good. The more, the merrier."
"I'll check back tomorrow?"
"Okay,' Bane replied, "I'll be waiting."

red_rose
red_rose

Jan-21-2009 04:44

"oh, pardon monsieur" Rose muttered as she bumped into a man coming out of an alley.
"no problem darling" he replied, before running off into the streets of Paris.
Rose glanced around, her long brown hair whipping round her face in the wind. She pulled her shawl tighter to her body. To the people passing her in the streets, the only saw a young, 14 year old girl, her arms clutched tight to her body, as if she was trying to hold something inside her. Her head whipped around furiously as her deep, green eyes darted back and forth.

She stood where she was for several moments, her mind wirring furiously. She was so sure she had seen that man somewhere before. His face was so clear in her mind but she couldn't picture where from, only that seeing him in the streets of Paris was the last thing she expected.

Onlookers would have seen Rose look up sharply, and quickly hurry down the street, the opposite direction to where the man had gone. As she walked, she stopped by the gutter and, sheepishly looking around to ensure that no one could see her, bent down to pick up a paper. Yes, even though Rose held herself high and, no one could deny it, was growing up to be a beautiful young women, her clothes had seen better days, her cheeks showed the strain and she looked as though she hadn't had a decent meal in weeks. This was the look of someone who had suffered during the years of the depression, and maybe only luck would see her through.

She glanced at the newspaper, where the headline "MURDER IN THE RED LIGHT DISTRICT!" blared at everyone from the front page. She sighed to herself, clearly this was something she had read before, yet, something stopped her before she turned the page and she glanced at the picture of the victim, Joey Bane. Suddenly the realisation hit her and before anyone knew what was happening she was sprinting up the street following a man who, quite clearly, shouldn't be walking around on the streets of Paris

yoyofoshow
yoyofoshow
Old Shoe

Jan-23-2009 20:57

Yoyo sat in a smoke filled cafe in Monmartre; the smoke seemed to hang around the ceiling.
Yoyo was sprawled over a simple chair, a now empty glass of absinthe sat on the table. He reached into his pocket took out some tobacco and rolling paper. He had been living in Paris for a while now, he had stepped out of the detective world-possibly for good. He had money, living was cheap and his life was a complete mess. But life was good, he indulged in all the vices. He read over the local rag, 'Murder in the Red Light District', hopefully it wasn't in one of his favorite haunts. The detective days were over for Yoyo-but something still burned inside of him.

Joey
Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Jan-25-2009 08:35

[Author’s note:

Hello everybody. I was not intending to participate in this story for the time being, even if Ace was kind enough to open it and make me the main subject, for the simple reason of having limited play time and aiming to concentrate more on my game play for a while. But since an RP contest has been initiated and some players may be interested in it, I figured it wouldn’t be bad to throw a hand in moving this story ahead, considering that at this moment it is the only one somehow active. I do, however, wish to point out that I’d like to have coherence in my character’s evolution through all the stories, so one of the important aims of my post below will be to sort out some inconsistencies that have found their way in this story, considering the fact that it is basically a continuance of my exit post from “The Expecting Miss Violet Parr”. Well, here goes nothing.]

Joey
Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Jan-25-2009 08:36

Joey was walking down Champs Elysees with a hand in his pocket and a million dollars smile on his face. His vivid black suit was shining purple in the sun light, his two tones looked as if they’ve been just took out of a box and a large elegant hat was leaning over his eyes just enough to give him a tricky look. He acted as if he wouldn’t have a worry in the whole wide world.

Upon leisurely adjusting his tie in the mirror of a tailor shop, something in the large windows seemed to have caught his eye. It was a white pin striped suit with a cut that would’ve been envied even in the classiest parlors in New York…or wherever in the world for that matter.

“What ‘he hell” he said to himself “I guess if I’m a walking corpse, I might as well be a well dressed one…hehehe.”

He tipped his hat towards the young woman who stepped ahead to welcome him upon entering the door.

“Hi there, little lady! I’d like to order one of them suits you have put up there in the window, if I may.” It was a genuine attempt from him of being polite and even gallant, but no matter how hard he tried he still looked odd is such a posture.

“Oh, an American” she said with an apparently slight expression of disgust on her face. “Please take a seat, monsieur, the tailor will be with you in a moment.” She pointed towards an elegant Victorian style looking armchair and disappeared through a door behind the counter.

Joey
Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Jan-25-2009 08:37

Joey sat down posing a slight grin of pain as he rested his arms on the hand supports. The bullet hole in his shoulder was still troubling him. Slowly rubbing his arm he took a look around the shop until his eyes stopped upon a newspaper sat on a small table besides him.

“The New York Times?...In Paris?” he mumbled in a slight surprise. “Eh…these French tailors nowadays really put a high price on making their customers feel at home. Well, let’s see what it says.”

A big title imprinted in large black letters was screaming out at Bane from the folded paper: ‘MURDER IN THE RED LIGHT DISTRICT!’

“Damn!” he thought “this title is such a cliché…” He picked up the newspaper and suddenly his face changed. Upon unfolding it he realized he was staring at a picture of none other than…HIMSELF?!? He quickly became tensed and started to thoroughly read the article. The title continued:

‘POLICE MAKES A BREAKTHROUGH IN A CASE OF ILLEGAL DRUG SHIPMENTS BETWEEN U.S. AND FRANCE!’

“This must be a JOKE!” he mumbled obviously worried through his lips. “I was never too much of a church door, but drugs? I’d never touch them in my life, let alone deal them around!” He completely unfolded the newspaper to get a better grip.

Joey
Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Jan-25-2009 08:37

‘About 4 weeks ago a shooting took place in the Red Light District of the small city of Aquitaine, France that ended up with apparently 2 victims. Ranier Blanchard, an obscure interlope figure who was connected to the local drugs distribution network has been found shot dead at the scene. His opponent, later on identified as Joseph Arturo Bane, an American citizen, was chased down by the police, shot and as a result, dropped into the ocean. Even though Bane’s body was never recovered, the police decided to declare him officially dead the day after.

Apparently, Ranier Blanchard’s record showed solid connections also with the drugs delivery shipments in and out of France and the authorities’ decision to pronounce both involved parties dead was nothing else than a strategy to put at ease the perpetrator’s worries. Further investigations brought the police to believe that Joseph Arturo Bane may be tied in with Blanchard’s illegal activities.

A crucial turn has been registered in this case yesterday, when the police had been informed that Bane was spotted walking around the streets of Paris.

Joseph Arturo Bane is strongly believed to be involved in these criminal activities and thus considered a fugitive. Any citizen of France who lays eyes on him is instructed to announce his presence at the nearest police station as soon as possible.’

Joey
Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Jan-25-2009 08:38

“This is ‘exactly what I needed’ right now…” mumbled Bane… “The French police and all Paris’s snoopers on my tail. HELL! It was too good to be true! I have to stay out of sight from now on.” He raised his eyes looking around for an exit, other than the front door. He stood up and headed through the door the young woman had earlier disappeared behind, almost knocking her down as he entered.

“Monsieur?” she practically yelled, obviously frightened.

“A back door, do you have a back door here? NOW!”

Without saying one more word she pointed towards a wall behind a large drape. Bane pulled it off and in a few moments he found himself in a back alley. “I need to get to my room first.” He threw a hounted look around and started walking in a rush, heading somewhere towards the poor side of Paris.

Joey
Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter

Jan-26-2009 03:21

Half an hour later " Rue de Dijon apartments " southern part of Paris

Upon taking a large detour, struggling to stay away from the main streets, Joey finally made his way to his apartment. He took one last look around to make sure he wasn’t followed before entering the small iron door of a once probably yellow, but now grey and obsolete building. His apartment was a two room flat on the ground floor, showing it had definitely seen better days. Bane carefully locked the door behind him and headed towards the large window where he could see the Seine. He felt a bit reassured realizing that the building was just on the river bank, so basically he was somehow covered from this side.

“I need to relax…and think” said Joey only for himself as his eyes lay upon a half full bottle of Jack Daniel’s on the table. He poured himself a shot, gulped it in thirst and then poured another one. “I need to disappear…fast. I’m obviously not safe here…not for long. But where to go?” He crashed into an armchair raising the glass and pressing it to his forehead. As his eyes scanned the room somehow in search for a solution, he noticed a small title in an old newspaper on the floor: ‘MORE BODIES FOUND IN THE CATACOMBS!’

“That’s it”, he almost yelled out loud picking up the paper. “Paris…the catacombs...nobody will find me in there!” He stood up and headed somewhere to the back of the bedroom. Upon throwing a searching look around, he pulled off the ragged carped besides the bed and unveiled a small flap door on the floor. “All right now…” smiled Joey. “I got my own personal exit door to freedom. Well…more of a rat’s freedom, but nevertheless. I knew all these old houses hide secrets.”

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