Sleuth Home - Message Boards - Role Playing Stage

0 0
Smoke Screen
  <<First Page  |  <Previous Next>  |  Last Page>>  

Joseph Zeo
Joseph Zeo
Tale Spinner

Apr-22-2010 21:04

"Cut!" The director screamed. He ran onto the movie set and stared at the lost man in a tacky detective costume. The director was a head shorter than most actors, but his stare was fierce. "I told you for God knows how many times, read your script as it is WRITTEN!"

"But real detectives don't say things like 'What were you doing at the time of the murder.' It's a straight give away to the suspect that a murder had taken place!" The poor man defended.

"God damn it, who cares what you say as long as it's a talkie film. A MOVIE!" The director slapped his script on the prop table. He turned to his crew, "Who hired this genius?"

The crew was stone silent. The cameramen wiped their bulky equipment fervently like their life depended on it. The lighting crew looked at their silver lamps as if they saw it for the first time. The soundman listened to his playback looking for noises that didn’t exist.

A young man in a plaid sweater put up his shaking hand, "but sir, you said you wanted an authentic guy to play the part, so I got you a real detective."

"I said I wanted an authentic LOOKING guy, Martin! Not the real deal. This is show biz, use your brain, if you're not SITTING on it!!" The stumpy director bellowed.


A voice light as chimes cut through the quarrel. "Boys, if you don't mind, I'll just go powder my nose." The lead actress with white blonde hair and the figure of an hourglass floated back into her dressing room.

"Yes of course, certainly my darling." The director cooed. He then turned coldly to Martin and the detective. "We'll take a 15 minutes break for you two to sort this out."

"Break! 15 minutes!" Martin announced, he then turned apologetically to his friend, "I'm so sorry, detective Zeo. I know most of this doesn't make sense, but can you please stick to your lines?"

Joseph Zeo looked at his shiny detective costume and gave a weak smile, "I dig what you mean," he sighed, "and you know I wouldn't have taken the job if I wasn't low on dough.


M. Lacrimosa
M. Lacrimosa

Apr-23-2010 09:10

"Before we get started," I said as I walked to the group of people, "I hear someone needs a bodyguard."

Everyone turned around to see who was talking. "Damn good to see you, Marc." Joseph Zeo said. He was a friend of mine; a close friend of mine to be exact. Vulkie was there too. Yes, we had our differences in our past, but I had come to forgive her for what happened a few years ago. "You too, Zeo. Vulkie, it's good to see you too." I replied.

"To be honest, we do need a bodyguard." Zeo said. He opened his mouth to say something but I cut him off. That was one thing I was bad about doing; cutting people when talking.

"Say no more," I said, " for I am the right man for the job." I pulled out my two new guns. Both were custom made pearl white Colt .45 caliber automatics.

Vulkie smiled and shook her head in disbelief. "I can't believe you had those made," she said with a chuckle.

"Believe it or not, but I did," I said. "So," I continued, "what seems to be the case here?"

"Marc, this is Simone Summers," Zeo said introducing me to the actress, "her brother was killed a while back, and now we believe that his killer is out to get her. "

"Miss Summers, this is detective Marc Lacrimosa. I guess now, he is your bodyguard. Marc is another friend of mine." he said. I reached out and shook her hand.

"Miss Summers, it's good meet you." I said. I looked back at Zeo and Vulkie. "Let's get started, shall we?"

Joseph Zeo
Joseph Zeo
Tale Spinner

Apr-23-2010 09:47

There was one interesting point that Zeo realized no one picked up earlier. He turned his attention to Simone Summers. "May I ask, Ms. Summers, did you see this note when you first entered your dressing room at the beginning of the movie shoot?"

"Actually, no." Simone shook her head with a frown. "This morning my dressing table was in the exact same condition as I left last night. It was only during the break did I find this note, and seeing that it mentioned my brother's death, I- um - I lost control and screamed."

"Was that so..." Zeo thought to himself. There seem to be holes in Simone's 'testimony'. He felt that the lady was hiding something. Zeo shot Marc a look. The dark man knew exactly what Zeo was thinking, for he too noticed the stutters and hesitations in Simone's voice. By being the close bodyguard to the Starlet, Zeo knew Marc could find out more about what was going on.

As to the strange appearance of the threatening note, although the set was not exactly an air tight facility, the security was usually wary of strangers lurking about. Perhaps someone can question the security guards for any unfamiliar faces, and if there wasn't any, it could only mean that this was an 'inside job', that someone amongst the cast and crew wrote the note. At this moment, Zeo could not draw any conclusion. More research needed to be done.

Anyhow, that could be done later in the day. At the moment, they concentrated on the content of the note. "Miss Summers," Zeo began.

"Please, please just call me Simone." The actress interrupted.

"Yes, um, Simone, the note asked for something that the writer wanted. Do you have any idea what it is?"

"No.No I don't." Simone shook her head again, her eyes looked vacant, as if she was shielding information which was behind it.

"So you have NO idea who could've wrote this?" Zeo sighed, knowing very well what the answer would be.

Joseph Zeo
Joseph Zeo
Tale Spinner

Apr-23-2010 09:54

"Detective Zeo, I am very happy that you are concerned, but this really isn't what I was asking for. I needed a bodyguard, and you got me one. For that, I am eternally grateful. Should we just get on with our lives?" The Starlet looked at her diamond studded watch. "Look, it's getting late. I have an early call time tomorrow. I shall see you again on the set, detective."

Simone gave a wry smile and asked Marc to accompany her. She told him that she owned a Mercedes and would drive it home, and asked if he would be able to stay over night to guard her villa. Apparently, this up and coming Starlet have some dough and was planning to pay Marc lavishly. Zeo regretted not taking the job himself. He sighed and put another cigarette on his lips.

M. Lacrimosa
M. Lacrimosa

Apr-23-2010 10:52

When Zeo shot Marc a quick look, Marc knew instantly something wasn't right. Marc knew that Simone and her brother were close. She even said that. When she explained that she had no clue who wrote the note, that part may have been true. However, that would not say that she didn't have an IDEA as to who may have killed her brother.

"Ma'am," Marc said with a hesitation. " I am going to protect you from who ever this is that is threatening you, however something doesn't seem right. You and your brother were close, correct?"

Simone nodded.

"You two were close. But yet you have no idea who wrote this. I can tell just by looking at your facial expressions that you know something. Yes, you are scared, and I understand that, but if you want this psycho stopped, I suggest that you spill out everything you know." Marc said firmly.

Riza Hawkeye
Riza Hawkeye
First Nomad

Apr-23-2010 11:03

Riza leaned against the shadowy side of the yellow-colored building that housed the studio set as she waited for the director to come out. “That scum thinks he can get away with not paying me back? I’m going to get it even if I have to wait here all day, dammit,” she muttered as she twirled a small knife around her fingers, making it catch the sunlight and glint.

The door opened and out came a stunning actress accompanied by…MARC?!? What was he doing here? “Hey!” Riza called out as her stilettos clicked over to him. Marc turned around, and upon seeing Riza, gave a small smile and replied, “Hi.”

“So what’s with the chick? Going home with her tonight?” Riza asked, raising her eyebrows and looking the woman up and down.

“No…well yes, actually. But it’s not what you think. I’m going to be her bodyguard for a while. She just received a threatening note before. Joseph and Vulkie are inside trying to figure things out.”

“Oh really, sounds interesting. Maybe I’ll have to take a look into that....By the way, have you seen the director around anywhere?”

The actress gave a throat-clearing noise and tapped at her watch.

“Oh, right, I have to go now, but I think he was still on the set screaming at somebody. See you around,” Marc said as he hurried off with the woman.

Riza Hawkeye
Riza Hawkeye
First Nomad

Apr-23-2010 11:04

Riza retreated into the shadows until the door opened again, this time a young man looking to be in a rush, and then she ran over and grabbed the door before it shut, letting herself inside.

The interior of the building was dark and cool, a noticeable relief from the scorching heat outside. Riza followed a narrow pathway to where it opened out to a larger room: the set. Off to the right she spotted the director, just as Marc had said, screaming at one of the set crew. “Salazar!” Riza called out, watching him cringe at the sound of her voice. He started to run towards the exit to the trailers.

“You’re not going anywhere!” Riza said, furrowing her brow. She took the knife she had been twirling in her fingers and suddenly flung it across the room, a dead shot landing a inch away from Salazar’s head. His eyes bugged out and he collapsed onto the floor; apparently he had fainted.

As Riza removed his wallet from his pants pocket and took her cash, she sniffed the air. There was the distinct odor of cigarettes hanging around. She grabbed her knife out of the wall, and followed the scent to the trailers, where she found Joseph and Vulkie arguing about something.

“Hey guys,” Riza said, nodding at them. “What’s this I hear about a mysterious note?” They both started to fill her in on what had happened.

“And what did she say when Marc confronted her before?” she finally asked, five minutes later.

“Well that’s the most interesting part,” Joseph continued. “She said…”

Joseph Zeo
Joseph Zeo
Tale Spinner

Apr-23-2010 19:28

Zeo continued, "she said... well, first of all I expected a bit of tact from Marc, that he'd find out more about Simone and her brother at her place instead of asking her right out. But then, this IS Marc we're talking about. What else would I expect from the King of Interrogation..."

"Except Ms. Summers is more or less our client; well, at least she's Marc client." Riza replied.

Zeo sighed. "Apparently the starlet doesn't want us involved. She's definitely hiding things. When I rushed into her room while she was supposedly 'powdering her nose', she was wearing next to nothing," Zeo blushed, "so what was she doing at that moment? Plus, if Simone really have no idea what the person who wrote the threatening note had wanted, the writer would have specified, wouldn't he?"

"She is definitely holding a lot more than what she told us. When Marc asked her to spill out everything she knew, Simone appeared very upset and said it was none of our business. However, she did mentioned that her brother had been dealing with some wrong people. That's all she was willing to say." Vulkie added.

"Could her brother be involved with the mafia?" Riza raised an eyebrow.

"Possibly, but I don't think whoever have written the note belonged to a gang, otherwise they would've just go threaten Simone directly instead of doing it through an anonymous letter." Zeo exhaled and looked the smoke dancing in the air. This case was exactly alike: unpredictable and impossible to grasp. He snuffed his cigarette and got up.

"I am going to find out more about Simone's brother. There's someone who might be able to help, but i can only take one of you. Anyway, someone need to stay behind on this set to find out if anyone saw anything suspicious. I'm leaving now. We can meet back at my office later tonight."

[Note: for the purpose of this story, Zeo is a private investigator (behind on rent) instead of being in the NYPD or FBI like some of the other threads.]

M. Lacrimosa
M. Lacrimosa

Apr-23-2010 22:50

After talking to Riza, Marc and Simone stepped outside into the warm sun and walked to her Mercedes. No one spoke as they drove down the busy road. It was stop and go traffic. Marc hated it. But thankfully he wasn't driving in it. Over the past couple years, his road-rage had gone to the extreme.

"So where exactly are we going, ma'am?" Marc asked.

"Please, call me Simone. And we are going to my villa."

"With all due respect, Simone, I don't think we should go to your villa. I think it's best if we go somewhere else." Marc said.

"Look, it's your job to protect me, not advise me." she snapped.

Marc took no offense. He knew she had a bad day today. Not only that, she was a big-wig celebrity.

Half way to her place, Marc pulled out his old pipe and his pack of fresh tobacco. "I don't allow smoking in my car," Simone said without looking at him.

Marc cut her a quick look. He sighed and put his pipe back into his coat pocket.

They arrived at the gates of where she lived and they pulled into her long drive way.

Her "villa", as she called it, was not how Marc had pictured it. Instead, it was much larger. It was more of a mansion.

Marc looked out his window. Something wasn't right. "Simone?"


"How many cars did you say you have?"

"This one, why do you ask?"

"Don't get out. Stay here. If I'm not back in two minutes, I want you go to City Hall. Don't go to Joseph Hollis but go to Tom Sullivan of the city counsel. Tell him who you are and what happened. He will take care of you."

"Marc-!" Too late. Marc stepped out of the car. As he walked quickly, he pulled out one of his pistols. The door was unlocked.

M. Lacrimosa
M. Lacrimosa

Apr-23-2010 23:12

Marc entered the house. It was hazy and smoky. Someone had been smoking in her house. The smell..Prince Albert pipe tobacco. Different than what Marc smoked but the detective knew that smell. Marc used Red Cap tobacco. The smoke from the intruder's pipe filled the room making a smoke screen.

There in front of him, stood a large man dressed in a suit. His suit's coat was unbuttoned. His back was to Marc. Marc hesitated with his pistol drawn ready to kill the man, but he froze. He couldn't do it yet. He spun around and quietly walked out to the car to find Simone still in side.

He got in and looked at her.

"From here on out, you will do what I say, when I say. Now we are going to a place I know. Do you know where 2nd Street is down town?"

"Yes, but-"

"Don't worry about it. Go right to 2nd Street." And with that, she complied without a word. Marc could sense a bit of frustration in her sigh as they left.

They made it to 2nd street. Three blocks down was an old run down building. Marc had her park behind the building and they walked inside.

"Marc, it's good to see youse," Said the man behind the counter. "I need a room, and I need it now. One room only." Marc said sliding the man a twenty dollars. "Keep the change."

Marc slammed the door shut and locked it then spun around to Simone.

He did all he could do to resist from screaming at her for he knew that wouldn't work.

"Simone, I need some names. Someone who knew you and your brother. And if your brother got mixed up with the wrong people, you need, no, you HAVE to tell me NOW. I think both of you got mixed up with the wrong people to be honest. And If I'm gonna protect you, you need to talk. Because if you don't, someone here trying to help you, is going to get seriously hurt or killed. Do you understand me?" Marc said.

Simone nodded and a tear rolled down her right cheek. She stood up and walked to the window.

"It was about twelve years ago," She said. A moment later, she told her story.

Peter O'Neil
Peter O'Neil
Old Shoe

Apr-24-2010 07:53

It is late afternoon. Only two men are at the bar, quietly exchanging words in a casual and relaxed manner. Soon, as the sun falls behind the surrounding rooftops, the workers will begin to arrive. Hard working men mostly. Some stopping for a quick cold beer on their way home to their families; and some will linger a bit longer. It is not yet Friday when the pockets are full of paychecks and the weekend promises freer and more enjoyable activities. Then the pub stays busy late into the night and Peter O’Neil makes his real money.

Above in their apartment, Peter’s wife is making dinner for him and their three children. Soon she will call him up to eat and soon after the evening crowd will arrive. This is a long way from where he grew up, in a rough neighborhood not so far across town. There he learned about the darker side of men's minds - and women's, too. He reflects only a moment longer on the road that brought him to Peter’s Pub, then offers a silent prayer of thanks.

“Peter,” one of the men calls out. “I believe we’re ready for another.”

  <<First Page  |  <Previous Next>  |  Last Page>>  

[ You must login to reply ]