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Elizabeth March
Elizabeth March
Sleuth About Town

Jan-9-2013 07:52

(Missed this space. Maybe we can revive it. I sure hope so. Not a great start, but should anyone join, I'd be really happy.)

It had been a long run.
Travelling all over the world to chase after Lazarus Metzger had been tired.
All she wanted now was to sleep.
As the young woman entered the small apartment building, she laughed quietly to herself.
One more time, she repeated her favourite sentence.
"Reformed burglars never sleep, dear."
Locking the door behind her, Elizabeth March - at least that was how she was known at the moment - got rid of her shoes and took a deep sigh.
Fixing herself a drink, she walked up to her desk. Pieces of paper were there, just like she had left them... right?
"Whatever they wanted, they didn't find it. Doesn't matter."
Nobody had broken in. So the only possible conclusion was that someone had paid - well - for her key. Not important. The money in the drawer was there, to the last penny. It wasn't cash they were after.
After a softly mumbled curse, she went in the bathroom for a long bath. And then, out back in the street.
The Tricky Mister was the place when you needed information - or maybe even bumping into an old friend.


Trusted Informer

Feb-11-2013 07:39

(Just for now, RP b/w me and Grem)

Lawliettine smiles sincerely as she watches the other detective leave for the night. She wishes Cyrus a good night and despite her immense dislike for Shady, wishes him as well. Predictably the scumbag lifts his head and stares at her blearily, as if unable to comprehend why a victim of his extortion would ever wish him well. She shrugs and leaves the bar.


Daisy Ming twirls a lock of curly sunny blond hair around the finger of her left hand, as she suspiciously eyes the poised young woman perched on the edge of her brand new orange sofa. Lawliettine can't help but notice the expensive looking green bracelet on the woman's left wrist. She's seen one just like it. When she'd found a picture of Mr. Ming's secretary in the dead man's office drawer.

"That's a lovely bracelet, Mrs. Ming," she enquires. "Sorry for departing from this little interview, but I must ask where you got it. I'm not in the city for very long, and I'd like to take on back with me."

Daisy hides her wrist instinctively and glares. "Are we done yet, or this interrogation turning into a jewellery shopping spree?"

Lawliettine smiles, having noted the reaction. "Not shopping really, Mrs. Ming. Anyhow, just to go over the facts once more and then I'll leave you. Day before yesterday was the last you saw your husband? You asked him to join you for dinner at the new restaurant? But he never showed up?"

"Yes, yes and yes. For the 2nd time."

Satisfied, Lawliettine stands up. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Ming." She smiles charmingly. "I'm a little new around here, so I'd have asked you what was good in the restaurant, but I don't want to impose any longer. Perhaps I'll drop over there and ask instead. Good day."

She inwardly smirks at the look of apprehension on the lady's made up face, as she steps outside.


Just as she'd suspected, nobody at the restaurant remembers a woman of Daisy's description that evening, waiting alone for her date.


Trusted Informer

Feb-12-2013 09:28

Daisy starts as there's a sudden knock on the door. Opening it just a bit, she scowls at the sight of the last person on earth that she wishes to see. Ellie, Mr. Ming's buxom young secretary, promptly sticks her foot in the doorway and pushes her way inside the house.

"Get the hell out of here, you skank," Daisy seethes, "or else you'll be out of more than just a job!"

Ellie stands her ground, fixing her gaze on the sparkling green bracelet. "Go ahead Mrs. Ming, call the cops. Let 'em see what you took from me!"

Just as she had done in the presence of that detective who'd come by earlier that day, Daisy covers her left wrist possessively.

"A man should buy jewellery for none other than his wife. And you were never his wife, you stupid skank!"

Without a moment's hesitation she moves towards to the desk and fumbles with the drawers. Ellie's breath catches in her throat as she sees in it an empty gift box roughly the size of the bracelet. Next to that is a card with her name on it in Mr. Ming's handwriting, torn out of fury. And on top of it, a photograph of herself, smeared with blood.

Seems like the unfaithful husband isn't supposed to be the only victim.

"Stop right there!" comes the sharp order. Daisy snaps her head over shoulder and drops the small box in bewilderment as she finds herself staring into the face of the second last person she wishes to see. And inexplicably, Lawliettine is wearing the same shoes as Ellie was earlier.

"W-what the hell, d-detective," she says, half in anger and half in astonishment as she slams the drawer shut. "Where on earth did that skank run off to?! And when did you come in?!"

Lawliettine's eyes are cold even as she smirks. "Simple. I tailed 'that skank' all the way to your house and hid outside while she confronted you. Too bad you scared her off with your....murderous intentions?" She nods towards the door left wide open.

(To be contd.)

Trusted Informer

Feb-12-2013 10:13

The lies come as naturally to her as they always have.

"Now please step away from the telephone while I make a call."

The next 20 minutes are unremarkable. A couple of cops arrive, who are very interested in the contents of the drawer and Daisy's absence at the wonderful new restaurant on that night. Spitting in anger and unresolved astonishment, Daisy confesses how she'd planned on doing in that skanky secretary just like she'd done her husband in. Lawliettine can't help but wince at the choice of insults.

Luckily, the real Ellie has actually been seen heading in that direction but nobody has seen the "substitute" slipping into Daisy's house. And the jilted wife herself isn't about to spill the details of that shameful little encounter, so it just happens to neatly work out for Lawliettine. Just so. She isn't always this lucky.

She looks almost sympathetic as she turns to the murderer one last time.

"If it's any consolation, that bracelet looks far better on you than it would on her."


The entire day has gone by in this rather sad, pathetic little affair. Well almost. It's only 8 in the evening, and Lawliettine shakes her head in self deprecation as she remembers that she was supposed to have met Grem that afternoon. Ah well, as intriguing as the young vampire is, there had been some dead stranger demanding her attention. Who it now transpired had been a terrible husband with a vindictive wife and a vapid secretary.

Sheesh. To think that she's lost a promising day because of this is just embarrassing. Well, now to make amends. Fishing out the crumpled napkin, she smooths it out with turquoise blue painted nails.


The doorman doesn't blink an eye as a painfully unassuming small woman in an oversized mauve sweater shuffles past. Somewhere down the empty corridor of the 14th floor, a lady in a loosely fitted yet stylish mauve sweater slows to a stop outside 1414. She waits a few seconds listening calmly, and then taps her knuckles on the door.

Washed Up Punter

Feb-12-2013 15:46

Maria Riolo age 8 was caught between political or family tension. Her body was cut into, whipped, burnt, and finally dismembered. Grem paces in her studio and tries to remember the details on the pieces. She did not forget what it looked like, but she did forget the smaller details. If Isabella is serious about wanting this case opened and put to rest, Maria’s parts needs to be exhumed. Grem has only looked at cold cases twice. In both situations when she requested the victim exhumed the families became quite upset about disturbing the peace of their loved ones. If you want answers that is how it needs to be done, especially with no cops involved.

Grem did not get to see the corpse where it was found nor was she did she get to see the original state of the parts. The Riolo family has influence but definitely not the smarts. No photographs were taken at the crime scene and she assumes that Maria’s mother demanded that her baby was cleaned up. Actually…did she? If the murderer is within the family, the suspect could have potentially cleaned the body under the guise that they are being respectful. It isn't much to go on, but it is something at least. Grem really does not want to see the overemotional Angelica Riolo and the cold gaze of her husband Lorenzo. Isabella Santanelli knows she is a vampire, but to the Riolo family she is just another private investigator. She will not be able to use her vampire abilities unless threatened.

She looks at the time, it is too late into night to go visit the Riolos, and she will have to wait until they wake up from their mortal slumber. Grem lays her body on top of the sheets, crosses her hands on top of her chest, and closes her eyes and rests.

In initial seconds of the sunrise, the first rays blanketed Grem’s face. She turns her face and looks out her window. Immediately she regrets not opening her eyes sooner. In the daytime she does not want to draw attention to herself by using her enhanced speed. Often, Grem chooses to

Washed Up Punter

Feb-12-2013 15:48

leave a bit earlier before the sun rises and fly as a bat. It is uncommon to see a bat in the daytime, but more likely of a situation than seeing a vampire. Her face wrinkles into a frown, guess she’ll have to take a cab. She hauls herself off the bed and prepares to head out.

The cabbie is extremely surprised at her request. The person in the backseat of his cab does not look like the type of person to be mixed in with the mafia.

“You’s saws you’s wanna go der?” Typical New York accent, mimicry helps Grem here.

“Acwas. (Of course)” she rolls her eyes.

“Shores ding laydee. (Sure thing lady)”

(to be continued)

Washed Up Punter

Feb-13-2013 17:13

An hour later after traffic, Grem reaches her destination. She hands the driver the fare and a small tip. Isabella better cover the travel expenses if she expected her to investigate in the daytime. Not drawing attention to herself, to travel from the heart of Manhattan to the outskirts is ridiculously expensive. She didn't care about personal wealth too much, but she needs the funds to appear 'normal'. The entrance to the Riolo estate is blocked by a brick wall, it also surrounds the property. Grem looks up at the gate. The least of her worries. She presses the button on the call box.
       A thick Italian accent barked at her."Posso aiutarti."
       "Inspector Grem. I'm here to...discuss Maria."
       A  long silence. "Un momento."
       The gates creaks loudly as they separate. She starts the journey up the big hill. On her way up, Grem glances at the surroundings again for clues on environmental factors. The gardener takes good care of the property. Roses from every direction conceals any would be foul scents. She would be surprised if she left this place without smelling like a rose. Maybe even the scent of a dead corpse.  

From a distance she hears the angry barks of the pack of dogs that the family kept. The most angry Rottweilers that she has ever encountered. It's becoming quite a fad for mafia families to keep a pack of dogs around to intimidate. Grem has met dogs that were all bark but no bite. These dogs though, they were bark and bite. If any of those rabid things ever do bite her, Grem will have a good idea of whom to feed on next. She doubts that they would 'dispose' of any evidence. As mean as they are, they loved little Maria. They usually surrounded her with protection, why weren't they there? Hmm, either they were familiar with the murderer or they were drugged prior to everything that happened.

Washed Up Punter

Feb-13-2013 17:17

Grem reaches the front door to the Riolo mansion. She picks up the brass knocker in the mouth of a lion's head and pounds the wooden door. The sound of barking becomes more audible, in fact it sounds like it came from the corner of the mansion. Luckily for her, Nonna Giovanna opened the door. "Come in come in!" Giovanna ushers her in. "Haven't seen you in long time, how you?" she takes off Grem's coat and gestures for her to take off her shoes. If Grem didn't know beforehand what type of family lives here, she would have thought this is just another wealthy family in Manhattan. 
       "I've been well, Giova-"
       "Please! Call me nonna!"
       "Okay. Thank you, Nonna."
       The tiny hunched nonna takes her hand and pulls Grem across the marble flooring. "You so cold! And skinny! Nonna make gnocchi last night, I give you!"
       "No no, nonna..I'm here to see  Lorenzo. I don't have time to eat right now."
Nonna frowned, as if her feelings are hurt. "That no good son of mine did something bad again ah?!"
       "It's..about Maria. I'm having another look at the case."
Nonna turns white as a sheet and gripps Grem's hand tighter. "My little, Maria!" she weeps. "WHO WOULD DO SUCH A THING TO THE BABY." she sobs.
       Grem looks around awkwardly and attempts to tug her hand free. Nonna throws herself into Grem's arms and continues to shed tears. Grem isn't a tall person herself, but at 5 feet she still towers over the little grandmother. From the balcony upstairs, "MA! Cosa, mama?!"
       Grem looks up and into the eyes of Lorenzo Riolo. 6 foot tall, slicked back hair, and held together by an expensive italian suit.   His lips curls and snarls at her. "Detective, you give up on our Maria and dare to come back to my home?"
       "Actually, Mr. Riolo, I'm having another look at Maria's case. I have a new lead that I want to follow."

Washed Up Punter

Feb-13-2013 17:18

Nonna gets a hold of herself and shuffles to the kitchen again, wiping her tears on her floral apron. Lorenzo's snarl now became a frown.  "So why are you here?" he demanded.
         Now comes the hard part. "I need Maria to be exhumed."
       "WHAT?! How will her body help you now?! It is probably nothing but bones now, you understands?!"
         "Lorenzo, it's been less than a month since her death. I noticed that you placed Maria in a beautiful coffin. Sealed tightly in the box should mean that...there are more than bones still."
Lorenzo curses loudly, two men step out from the door behind him, each wields a tommy gun. "Ferma." he holds up a hand. The men lower their guns and step back behind Lorenzo. "Detective, you better know what you are doing or the pooches will have a fine feast." He stomps down the stairs, pointing at Grem as he speaks. "Not a WORD to Angelica about Maria being exhumed. You can ask all dem pointless questions but do NOT tell her about Maria's body."
He reaches Grem and grabs her shoulders. Calm down, calm down, calm down. Don't react. Don't react. "Tu capisci?!"
       "Yes, I understand."
       "You better understand. Her coffin will be pulled out  by tomorrow night. That is all the time you will get. Now, GET OUT."
       Grem, though tempted to run, power walks out the door. She walks down to the bottom of the property and looks around, she couldn't smell the presence of another person, the coast is clear to shift.

Washed Up Punter

Feb-13-2013 17:19

Grem returns to her studio, hoping that she left the window open. Ah-yes she did. The bat flies into her bedroom and shifts again to her humanoid form. Now what? Feeding sounds pretty good. It is still daytime, and she is very hungry. Hunting right now and bringing back an animal corpse will look very bad. She sighs. She would have to wait until late night. She lays her body onto the bed again, she crosses her hands onto her chest, and closes her eyes again.
       Time passes quickly in reality, though to Grem time now passes slowly relative to how long she had returned  from the grave. A faint knocking raises Grem's awareness. Her hunger nearly sends her toward predator mode. Calm down. Calm down. She waits a few seconds before blurring to the door. This studio is so much worse than the living spaces floors and floors above her. The door didn't have a  peep hole. She could handle herself, but she feels bad for those that can't stop an attack. Grem pauses and gently inhales. The scent is familiar. She opens the door. It's the woman from the night before.  

Trusted Informer

Feb-15-2013 06:18

Lawliettine pulls the mauve sweater around herself as the door opens and a draught hits her from inside the studio. She pauses for a few seconds, as she takes in the sight of Grem, looking pallid and drawn. Sheesh. She sure hopes this isn't a bad time to entertain an unnanounced and barely familiar 8 o' clock guest.

"I'm sure you remember me from yesterday. Neither of us is that easy to forget. So no introduction needed." She laughs warmly.

"I was wrapped up in a case today, and not one that makes for a good topic of conversation. And by the looks of it, you're exhausted so I assume you were just as busy today. If you don't mind my saying."

She holds out a somewhat large paper box. It was something she just happened to pick up from the new restaurant on the way. The aroma is so delicious that she had had to exercise immense self control not to devour it herself. Wouldn't be very polite, after all.

" I'm not sure what you like eating, and I'm not sure how well it's seasoned." Another small giggle. "I don't think they had the kind of seasoning you'd normally like. I just decided to opt for something simple. Roast chicken."

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