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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

Mar-23-2013 07:19

Lawliettine smiled widely at that and her grip on the door handle relaxed.

"As far as I'm concerned, that means a lot more than wads of cash. And in any case I'll still have to keep working while in New York, so that would just about supplement my needs."

"And since we're in this business together, there's no point in being overly delicate. If the body needs to be looked, it needs to be looked at. I'm not backing away from the unpleasant bits."

"Let's take things with a pinch of salt and hope for the best, that we may discover something else yet."

She took a look around the apartment again. "You know how to reach me. Leave a message with the music teacher. I'll leave a message with the waitress if I need to reach you."


The young bespectacled man dropped the racy novel he'd been reading, startled by the sight of a middle aged man sauntering down the aisle towards him. It was a bit late for a casual history buff to be wandering around. The fellow adjusted the yellow kerchief around his neck and peered disdainfully at the novel which the younger man had dropped.

"So then. Which way are the political records of the recent past archived?"

The younger man rose to his feet and swallowed. "P-political sir? I believe you m-may have just missed the Mayor's office-"

The kerchief fellow sighed wearily. "Stop beating around the bush lad. You know very well about the Mayor being the tip of the iceberg. What do you want? A silly password or something?"

The young man lowered his gaze and remained silent in affirmation. Lawliettine broke out into a slight sweat. What on earth was the password for accessing the La Cosa Nostra records? Was there only one?

"Let's see now... Real estate? Exorbitant rent? Is there another password you're waiting for?"

The young man's nervousness abated, to be replaced by a more reassured look.

"Sorry about the formalities, Mr. Hodgins. You know how it is."

"It's silly, that's what it is," 'Hodgins' replied with another sigh.

Washed Up Punter

Mar-23-2013 20:41

To Grem’s relief, L accepts the chance to examine the remains…and in a way her apology for what just happened. She relaxes into the couch and took a deep breath. That would be tomorrow night. It was fairly dark now, but she is nearly certain that The Cacophony Conservatory would still be open. Even dead, the ill tuned instruments playing during the night is still creepy to Grem. She approaches the window and opens it a crack, just enough for her bat form. She shifts into a vampire bat, and slips off into the night.

Moments after, Grem picks to feed near the Mother of Innocence Cathedral. The cemetery in the back attracts a very good amount of crows and ravens. She attacks her victim crow and sucks it dry. At this time, it is around 10 at night. She notices Manfred Gesling opening the door for two shadows. She can see that one is none other than Victor Chen of the Dies Arcanum Brotherhood. The other figure causes her to drop her meal. It is someone she recognizes. Crabapple, another vampire from her early days in Shanghai.

Grem had first encountered Crabapple when Crab made a visit to Shanghai to seek revenge on the Eastern Triad. She had stayed with the Crypt before departing again very shortly. Grem initially wanted to seek the friendship of Crab, but Crab had her own agenda. Crab’s daily routines of Hail Mary’s and devotion to the Holy Bible drove Grem away. The other vampires did not seem to mind it at all, Crab wasn’t doing any harm with her belief that although she is a vampire that she is a child of god.

But what is she doing here now with the Dies Arcanum Brotherhood? The political faction that holds the twisted belief that they are god’s messengers and molding that to mean that every action they took is justified. With a minute more of thought, Grem connects that Crab’s affiliation to the Dies Arcanum Brotherhood makes sense. She frowns. What Crab is doing with the Brotherhood is not Grem’s business and Grem did not want it to be her business

Washed Up Punter

Mar-23-2013 20:42

anyway. But, with the case of Maria…it might be Grem’s business if it turns out the Brotherhood is responsible.

Manfred Gesling bids goodnight to Victor Chen the mother inquisitor.

“My child, it is late. You should go rest, I will close up the Cathedral for the night.”

“Father Chen, I have no use for rest. The darkness of the cathedral is my home.”

“I nearly forgot…with how everything is.”

“Do not worry, Father. I will have everything ready for tomorrow.”

Crab waves off Victor Chen with a smile, but as soon he is a very good distance away she shoots a glare at the tree Grem is perched on for a second, before stepping inside and closing the heavy doors. Did she spot Grem? She couldn’t have. Grem took a deep sigh. No use trying to avoid it now, she should talk to the mother inquisitor and see what she knows.

Washed Up Punter

Mar-23-2013 21:20

Crab’s footsteps on the marble footsteps echo as she steps into the cathedral office. The office is nothing more than a candle lit room cluttered with three pieces of furniture: a bookshelf, a desk, and a creaky chair. Papers decorate the desk, in an organized manner. Crab shuts the door behind her, and locks it. She takes off her robes and hangs her rosary on a crooked nail above the desk. A visible look of annoyance formed on her face. “Who do you think you are, trying to hide from me?” She speaks without turning around.

A bat that was previously perched on the edge of the single window in the room, shifts into her human form. “I am surprised you remember me.” Grem murmurs, truly surprised.

Crab’s hands form fists, while a smirk forms on her face now. “There are not many of us that walk the earth.” Crab faces Grem, the smirk was not a friendly one. Crab had the face of a homicidal maniac. “Surely, you do not choose now to convert to the words of the Holy Father. I remember clearly that you had mocked and distanced yourself from me.” Crab chuckles. “What are you doing here?”

Grem takes a breath, she regrets making a visit to Crab alone now. “What do you know about Maria Riolo?”

“What about her? She is a friend of the La Cosa Nostra b**** family. Her family picked the wrong type of people to associate with.”

Grem frowns. “Isabella Sanatelli is a friend of mine. She asked me to investigate the case.”

“Good for you.”

Grem takes another breath. “She wants me to find out if this is a murder within the family…or a political murder.”

Crab does not reply immediately. The tension in the room made Grem nervous. Crab walks towards the desk again and lifts a small wooden cross from the wall. She appears to admire the woodwork, observing the fine details. Drops of sweat form on the back of Grem’s neck as Crab’s fingers touch the grooves of the wood.

“I do what the Holy Father tells me to do….” Crab starts to say, turning her back away from Grem. It

Washed Up Punter

Mar-23-2013 21:23

is clear to the younger vampire that Crab does not see Grem as a threat. “His messages guide my decisions, I do not question him, I obey.”

She starts to pace back and forth slowly. Each footstep scraping against the floor felt like a claw scratching across Grem’s face.

“But.” Crab pauses.

Before Grem had any time to react, Crab had bared her fangs and slams Grem’s body against the bookshelf. “Do not be stupid to assume that we are involved with the pathetic Cosa Nostra.” Crab growls as she sends the wooden cross through the left palm of Grem’s hand.

Grem feels the wooden shelves dig into her back, the decades of dust swarms her throat, the heavy volumes of latin slam against the back of her head. She cries in pain as the wood drives through her flesh. Grem will heal faster than a human, it is vampire nature. Crab’s right hand clenches Grem’s throat, the long nails digging in.

“I am a far older vampire than you are. Which means I am faster, stronger, and far harder to kill. Come here again and I will send a cross into your heart.” Crab releases her grip and points at Grem’s chest, she retracts her fangs. "Leave."

Grem wasted no time in doing exactly that. She shifts to a bat and makes a beeline for the Cacaphony Conservatory.

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