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Reformed burglars never rest
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Elizabeth March
Elizabeth March
Sleuth About Town

Nov-7-2009 22:10

"Brr... I'm cold."

Those were the first words that came out of Elizabeth March's mouth as she entered the hall of the well located house in London. Luckily, the place was warm and cozy.

Empty, too. She wondered were all the servants were.

Well, they'd show up, eventually. She could bet they were in the kitchen, talking and playing cards. She didn't mind. They deserved their rest and some fun.

With that in mind, she moved to the living room, dragged a chair near the fireplace and sat there, just staring at the roaring fire.

Much was in her mind. Her past life as a burglar still haunted her. All the wrong things she had done still lived in her nightmares. The woman let out a tired sigh. All that was in the past now.

She had a new life. An agency. Friends. A new name.

Yes. A new life.

It could be a better one, if she didn't have to carefully hide her past from everyone. She had to mind every word that came out of her mind. Every letter she received. Every phone call...


Damn phone.

She sighed and got up, reluctantly.


"Miss Elizabeth March?"

"Yes. Who's there?"

"Just a friend who wants you to know that dreams may shatter like glass..."

"What, what do you..."

He had hung up, and so did she.

She was still standing by the phone, trembling, when she heard the footsteps. She didn't turn around. It was probably just one of the servants. Yes, it was Gerald, her butler.

He had asked something whose meaning she couldn't reach. Maybe how she was.

"Sorry, Gerald. I'm fine. I was talking on the phone, and felt slightly light-headed."

She forced a smile to the man. He smiled back.

"Maybe you should take a bath and rest, ma'am.", the man suggested, carefully.

"Not now. I've got a phone call to make. After that, I'll do what you say."

She watched as the man left the room and picked the phone back up. She dialed a number, hoping the person on the other side was home. (...)


M. Lacrimosa
M. Lacrimosa

Nov-7-2009 23:23

Marc took the paper with the names and addresses.

"We'll negotiate prices when my work is finished." He said. When a look of shock came over her face, he smiled and said, "I don't charge too much. I"m cheaper than most detectives."

He pulled out his pocket watch. It was almost dark outside. Night time was dangerous. He'd have to begin his work in the morning. He stood up holding his fedora.

"Ma'am," He said sounding concerned, "I think it would be best if you stayed in a hotel or at a friends house. If you need to, I know people who can make sure you get the utmost protection if someone is trying to hurt you not only mentally, but physically too." Marc reached into his pocket and pulled out his card.

"This is my card. It has my office address on it. If you need anything, you can reach me here." Marc handed it to her. He put on his fedora, said good bye and stepped out side.

The wind was cold, turning his cheecks red as he walked in the cold weather. Reaching into his other pocket, he pulled out his pipe, filled it with tobacco and lit it, making his way back home to get some sleep. Tomorrow, he'd start his newest case since catching Charles Craig. (see disillusioned detecitives)

Elizabeth March
Elizabeth March
Sleuth About Town

Nov-8-2009 21:29

She gave no answer as the detective told her what he believed she should do. She nodded and smiled to herself. "What friends?", her mind asked her. But a hotel would be nice.

She took the card and finally read the name on it. A deep sigh went through her lips. She was tired. Forgetting her problems for a moment, Elizabeth took the man to the door and closed it.

Five minutes later, she was upstairs packing her suit case. Ten minutes, and she was out on the street. She took a room in a small hotel and went inside. She'd think about all the matters in the morning.

Molly Maltese
Molly Maltese
Old Shoe

Nov-10-2009 00:56

"Pierce, I believe your room is right across the hall from mine! That's convenient!" Molly said, clapping her hands. They parted ways then; Pierce turning the key to his room and Molly turning the key to open her door-- and coming face to face with a strange woman!

"What on earth are you doing in my room?" Molly gasped, her tone scandalized. Pierce whirled and dragged Molly behind him, slipping seamlessly into his role of protector.

"But...this is my room! How do you have a key?" the woman demanded. Molly noticed she had dropped a card in frustration; it was gusted into the hall, where Molly picked it up.

"Marc Lacrimosa..." she read, then snapped her head up. "Is Marc working for you? He's a good friend of mine! I'm a detective as well. This is my bodyguard, Pierce."

She handed the card back to the woman. "Well, this is a matter easily cleared up by the front desk. Lets have Pierce go down, and you can tell me all about the case you have Marc on."

"Miss Maltese, you shouldn't be so trusting..." Pierce said in a stiff voice, wondering why on earth the woman bothered hiring a guard when she insisted on throwing herself into potential peril at every opportunity. But he didn't mind it that much, he found. Molly Maltese was a charming, lovely woman. He knew countless chaps who would kill to have his position.

With one last tense look about the room, he spun on his heel to go speak to the concierge and have the mix-up settled as quickly as possible.

M. Lacrimosa
M. Lacrimosa

Nov-10-2009 12:58

Marc woke up the next morning after a long night's sleep. He wasn't off to a great start to begin with. He had over slept and was late getting to his office, where he reviewed his case file. The night before, he was called to a woman's house named Elizabeth March. There, she'd given him two names of people that he should talk to.

One of them was a man named Tim Robinson-a former mafia trooper who used to work with La Cosa Nostra; now just a gangster of the streets. Marc read that Robinson and March had some ties to each other and something happend, (he didn't know what) that made him want to black mail her.

The other was a man named Mike McDaniel-another gangster of the street who once worked with Ms. March. Something also happend that Marc didn't know about causing him to dislike Elizabeth as well. The files of each person had her name as working with them but there was nothing that could point out exactly what happend as to what would cause them to try and threaten her like this.

After some consideration about who to go talk to first, Marc decided to go talk to Tim Robinson first. Reaching into his desk, he pulled out his subnosed .30 caliber revolver, checked to make sure it was loaded, holstered it, and grabbed his jacket and trench coat and fedora.

"I'll be back in a couple of hours," Marc said to Grace, his secretary. "Hold all my messages." He walked out the door to and made his way to Tim Robinson's house.

Molly Maltese
Molly Maltese
Old Shoe

Nov-10-2009 13:14

The next morning tried to ring Marc but only got his secretary.

"Grace, darling, it really is of the utmost importance that I speak to Marc." Molly explained patiently, but Grace was unrelenting, telling her she would take a message.

"Couldn't you possibly just tell me where he went?" Molly cajoled, absently adjusting Pierces tie when he came to stand beside her. But Grace refused.
"Bloody hell, woman, Marc should be proud. I doubt even the most insidious German could crack you! Tell him to call me at once; I've just been apprised of the case he's on!"

She hung up and turned to Pierce. "Lets go get some bloody breakfast."

Charlie Cain
Charlie Cain

Nov-10-2009 15:17

While in the lobby of the hotel Molly bumped into an old friend and fellow detective Charlie Cain.

" Charlie! what are you doing here?" Molly asked across the crowded dinning lobby.

Charlie smiling and looking around replied " Molly this is London I live here and right now I'm having breakfast. Please join me...You to Pierce."

The friends talked and caught up on current events then Charlie asked " So Molly whats going on?"

" Charlie what makes you think something is going on?" Molly asked by trying to keep a plain face.

" Hey I'm a detective and besides I know you. Tell me whats up." Charlie said enjoying his eggs and bacon.

"Ok, look Marc is working on a case I just got wind of. Now I'm trying to get ahold of him to see if he wants any help." Molly said with a playful pout.

" Marc huh? Well fill me in maybe I can help." Charlie said wiping his mouth with his napkin.

Molly Maltese
Molly Maltese
Old Shoe

Nov-10-2009 18:24

"Pierce, this is my good friend Charlie Cain. Believe me, he's alright." Molly said, putting out a placating hand as Charlie approached and her bodyguard stiffened. She turned to Charlie. "Pierce Evans Malone, Charlie Cain. I hired a bodyguard after that business with Billings...he's still at large.Anyway, Charlie! what are you doing here?"

Charlie smiling and looking around replied " Molly this is London I live here and right now I'm having breakfast. Please join me...You to Pierce."

They went to eat, and Charlie wheedled the reason she was in London out of her. So she told him all that Elizabeth had told her, about the mysterious threat. Charlie seemed interested enough.

"I'm simply waiting for Marc to get in touch with me. It would be lovely to include you, just like the last case!" Molly laughed, taking a sip of tea.

M. Lacrimosa
M. Lacrimosa

Nov-10-2009 20:30

As Marc walked through the streets of London making his way to Tim Robinson's house, he thought about the past few months. Things had been hard since the Charles Craig case. He just had to get out of New York for a while, so he moved to London, where he opend up an office and hired Grace, his secretary.

After a long walk, Marc made it to Tim's house. He opened the gate and made his way to the door.

Marc knocked twice and the door opened almost instantly. Standing in the doorway was a beautiful young woman who couldn't have been any older than twenty five.

"Can I help you?" She said. Her British accent was thick.
"I'm here to talk to Mr. Tim Robinson," Marc replied.
"You're American." The young woman said, sounding shocked.
"Yes, I am. Now where can I find Mr. Robinson?" Marc asked bluntly.
She invited him inside where he sat down on the couch in the living room. Th house was beautiful. Marc had never seen anything like it. These people were rich!
The young woman disappeared down the hallway and returned a moment later with a young clean cut man. It had to be Robinson.

Marc stood up. "Mr. Robinson?" he asked.
The man nodded, "Aye." He said with a heavy Scottish accent.

"Mr. Robinson, I'm a detective, and I need to speak with you about your connection with a lady named Elizabeth March."

"What about her?" He asked curiously.
"Lately she has been reciving threatening phone calls from somebody and your name came up as one of the people who would have a motive to do something to harm her." Marc replied.

There was a long silence before Tim spoke up.
"She had me do some work for her. She then refused to pay me and disappeared. I never have heard from her since." He said.
"Okay, then." Marc said. "I just need to know where you were last night between the hours of six p.m and ten p.m."

Tim thought for a moment before replying, "I was at the Owl and Walnut Bar drinkin'," he said. Marc soon left making his way to the bar.


Nov-10-2009 23:58

"Barkeep,another scotch please" Vulkie said,as she downed her fourth glass.

"Coming right up" Bernie said,from the Owl And Walnut Bar.

"God,Bernie,why does business have to be slow. I just caught a villain,after 10 days. 10 days Bernie!" Vulkie shouted and she took a sip.

"Well,it seems business for you is ever so slow. Maybe a lot of people don't need a detective right now..." Bernie said,the last part a bit hesitating.

"Ah,b*llshit. That's not true. There will always be people who need a PI or a detective." Vulkie said,as she downed her fifth glass.

Just then,a man entered the dimly shaded bar. As Vulkie turned around to look who is was,she was astonished to see him.

"Hi... Marc..." She said and Marc looked at Vulkie. "So,this is how you're spending your well earned $7000,-" Marc said.

"No,this is coming out of my own pocket. Bernie happens to be a good friend of mine and he often "keeps an eye closed" ,if you know what I mean?" Vulkie said and Marc waved.

"No need to explain that. I know Bernie. Can I have a small whiskey Bern?" Marc asked and he placed himself on a barstool.

"So,what have you been up to lately?" Marc asked and Vulkie said the same she said to Bernie.

"Geez... Yeah,business for me has also been slow. But lately,I have a rather intriguing case..." Marc said and he explained.

"So,can I be of any assistance to you?" Vulkie said,waiting for a reply...

M. Lacrimosa
M. Lacrimosa

Nov-11-2009 18:15

Marc downed his scotch of whiskey. From the moment he saw Vulkie he had been dreading this question since he mentioned his case. When she asked him "So, can I be of any assiistance to you?" he wasn't

"Vulkie..." Marc paused. "I don't think there is much you can do. I don't even know why I'm drinking this scotch. Bernie, I actually came to check out an alibi of a suspect of mine; Tim Robinson. He claims to have been in here last night. Did you happen to see him?"

Bernie looked up. "Tim Robinson? What's he look like?"

"He's an averaged size guy, clean cut, dresses like a lawyer and has a scottish accent." Marc replied.

"A Scottsman...if I remember right, I believe he was in here last night..he came in about six pm and left around nine or ten. He was pretty drunk." Bernie said shaking his head.

"Thank's Bern," Marc said and he threw down the money to pay for his shot.

Bernie laughed aloud and said, "This one's on the house." Marc thanked him and left. As he stepped outside into the cold whether, he pulled out his watch. It was noon and he was hungry for lunch. Marc only kept a handful of cash on him so he figured something quick and easy would do the trick. He remembered the cafe in the hotel and how great the food was. So that's where he went.

He walked inside the cafe and saw to people whom he thought he'd never see again. Charlie Cain and Molly Maltese. Next to Molly was another man. Marc walked up to them from behind. Placing his hand on Molly's shoulder, he nelt down behind her and said, "Now what is someone like you, doing in a big city like this?".
Molly jumped and when she realized who it was, she nearly fell out of her chair.

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