"I have only chosen lad who said we should spill blood." Dan says mournfully, "E'en then he ain't gonna die less more people think he be a villain. Hopefully he can explain himself." The baker rolls down his sleeves, redoing the cuffs.
Geoffrey raise his head so one eye can look questioningly at Dan. "Ne'er said we should...Mr. Hamish first talked about how to go about it...then the General named a body...Gustav...I jus' doin' my duty now..."
"Aye Geoffrey. Seems that getting our democratic rights was a tough chore and big responsibility." Dan shakes his head, "Be better if I were just responsible for me shop."
The soaring tension in the room manifests amongst the peace, the baker hopes that this doesn't turn into bodies.
He slowly rises, moving over to the youth with an unsteadiness; "No hard feelings?" holding out a hand to be shook. "'Tis alright if you don't wanna."
Geoffrey looks down his mouth in a troubled line. He takes out a stub of wood and begins to whittle something vaguely man-shaped. He mumbles under his breath.
"S-sorry, Mr. McFadden...hopin' ya's not lynched and...don't wanna see Gustav get the rope neider...he's nice to me..."
"Ye meant no harm, lad, but be more careful wi' your words from now, eh?"
Accepting the tea from Clara "Thank you" the young shoemaker sips at her tea and seems to relax somewhat, at least releasing her grip on Clara, and coming out of hiding.
She turns her head to look towards Dan when she realises he's talking to her. She stands frozen for a moment peering at him as if she didn't understand what he said, then working out what she said she nods "Oh yes, sorry Mr. Dan, yes Cherry is her favorite... I'll ask her when we get out of here in case she wants something different."
She looks towards Thadius and Getika as they talk of bears and trees catching the man's mumble "True sir... but I don't think that cutting down all the trees is a good way to find the bears." Looking towards Getika she offers a slight smile "Hi, I haven't seen you around much... you don't come to my shop. I'm Tina."
Dan sips on the tea, before realising he's supping on the bitter leaves. With trembling fingers he put the dregs down upon a bench, his eyes glancing to the bowl. Turning away, he doesn't wish to look at the shape the leaves form - lest they spell something.
He blinks away moisture from his eyes, a pudgy finger rubbing at the corners. "Anyone know a good tune?" he says thickly, attempting to tear apart the tension.
Getika smiles at Tina then chuckles lightly and good heartedly, "You speak like true Arapaho. I thought of same thing. True I have not been to shop. Does shoe maker make moccasins?"
She looks to Dan and nods, "We have a song, sweet as rain.
We circle around, we circle around
The boundaries of the earth
We circle around, we circle around
The boundaries of the Earth
Wearing our long wing feathers as we fly
Wearing our long wing feathers as we fly
We circle around, we circle around
The boundaries of the sky"
Her song is sung with a voice that mimics the movement of the wind and wisps in and out with an enchanting tune. When she finishes the song she looks back to Tina, awaiting her answer about moccasins.
Gustav Bauer votes for: -
Warren Enzroth(Zerombr?) votes for: -
Willard Wainwright votes for: -
Coraline Baker votes for: Abstaining Vote
Clarence McFadden votes for: Abstaining Vote
Getika Littlemoon votes for: Abstaining Vote
Tina Wolfswift votes for: Abstaining Vote
Dan Haworth votes for: Abstaining Vote
Geoffrey Jacks votes for: Clarence McFadden
Hamish Cunningham votes for: Caroline Baker
Clara Cheeseworthy votes for: Gustav Bauer
Jin votes for: Gustav Bauer
The General votes for: Gustav Bauer
Thadius Lumpshire votes for: Gustav Bauer
Duke Leto Atredies votes for: Gustav Bauer
The people of the town start to mumble and talk about their mistrust for the German. Surely, he has a good heart? But they've heard of the things those Germans have done in the Great War. Ghastly! Probably a war refugee here among them! Tensions rise and Gustav stumbles backwards away from his judges and jury to escape from their wrath. He doesn't even watch where he's going when nearly backed into a corner, where he trips over a chair head over heels onto his head and with a SNAP! and a loud BANG! The German is dead.
Wait, a bang? The General looks up with surprised eyes as blood seeps from his coat. He seems about ready to point out the one who did it too, everyone else having been too distracted by the lynching in progress (and the General himself deciding to take a bit of a sip from his flask) but he cannot get his hand up any higher than hovering above his knee before he coughs up blood, convulses a bit, and falls silent.
When Gustav's body is checked for any evidence of whether he is mafia, it seems he carries a note signed with blood, pledging his loyalty and trust to his blood brother.
Pushing back his hair, Willard sighs woefully. "Well, I suppose we now have a list of people who are not his sworn brother," the writer says in an unapologetic tone, his eyes shifting to those that voted for the German. He scribbles some check marks down in his notebook, whilst muttering, "Such a shame..."
"Great balls afire!" Clara yells in a most unladylike fashion, "Did anybody see who shot the General?"
Dan's mouth is open, the pair of deaths shock him. He'd never known if he'd killed any German's in the war. The General too!
Looking around him, the baker tries to see any smoke... or the tell-tale smell of gunpowder. "No." he says unsteadily.
Looking over the crowd that stares at the two dead bodies, "I... I... I'm sorry." Jin addresses it to no one in particular, but hopes Gustav's bloodbrother hears the words. "But I still stand by my words - sitting here and doing nothing is worse than accidentally killing one of our own."
"I say we make everyone empty their pockets and see who is carrying a weapon... surely only the mafiafolk would be running armed." Jin starts rummaging through his own trousers. He doesn't keep much on him, a billfold, his father Draper's pocket watch, a comb, a small metal wedge that looks like it's been used to degrease an engine, two chewed up pencils, a couple of loose smokes, a box of matches,... he mummbles quietly to himself keeping inventory of his items as they spill out onto a nearby bench.
Clarence stares intently at Clara for some time before speaking. "Y' still be thinkin' Gustav were one o' them, hmm?"
He turns his head and regards Thadius and the Duke. "An' you? What've ye got ta say fer yourselves?"
"Better him n' any o' us." Thadius pulls out his flask, shaking it in disapproval, its contents long since emptied before even ending up in town hall. He tosses it on the ground and kicks it away.
"Pore Gustav. He coulda spoke up fer hisself, or his friend coulda. Cain't figger why they stayed mum. What're we supposed ta do, huh? Nothin? Sit here an' let 'em pick us off? We'll never git out alive!" Clara sighs and kneels near the bodies, regarding them sadly. "Welp, guess we oughta move 'em aside, lay 'em out with some dignity, huh? Anybody wan' give me a hand? I figger away from the food is best."
"Sometimes silence speaks loudest," Willard says with a shrug, scrawling lazily on a clean sheet. "I'm sure none of you would have listened anyway."
He looks to Jin, frowning. "As for what is in my pockets, I can assure you that you will find little more than ink bottles and pens. Not that that particularly matters. Any killer worth their salt could take a life with a rusty thimble if they wanted to. True story. Hardly worth writing a novel over, unfortunately."
"... three ball bearings, a bit of twine, the jack of hearts playing card(a momento from his days at sea in The War),..."
"Oh, right, pockets." Thadius points at his empty flask, "Dat dere flask, dis," he pulls out a bottle opener, "dis", he pulls out a silver pocket watch on a thin silver chain... then he pauses for a sec, "Oh yeah, forgot 'bout dis." Last he pulls out a collapsible telescope painted black, "Geez, how long I had dis in my pocket?"
He pulls it open and looks in the viewing end, "I ain't seen dis in an age." He sets his view toward Clara, then Willard, and finally Tina before pulling it away from his eye.
Watching this death was difficult for the native as it seemed more like a lynch mob than any carefully deliberated jury of peers. Even though her people were accused of being savages she found this much more savage than any recriminations within her tribe.
She closes her eyes but they shoot open as the shot rings out and she looks on in surprise.
"That was not ..."
Getika shook her head not thinking of anything else to say when Jin talks about emptying pockets. A dark brow rises as she looks down at herself and her clothing. Her weapons were all openly worn. A bow at her side with the arrows, a hunting knife strapped to her lower right leg and ... oh there were a couple of items.
She took out her breast knife, a little knife in a sheath which fit nicely within her cleavage and a pouch of herbs as well as one with what looked like a pipe and marbles, "All that is mine you see. She says as she puts her pouches on the table, "Medicine and hunting weapons are what I carry." She had left most of her gear in a tent outside of the town with her extended family.
"Aye, if he'd have spoken up - then he'd have survived. Like what Mr Jacks did." the rough mans voice trembles. "If we are just open and honest then we can stop the killings...." He pauses; "Or at least if we's more cunning than them criminals."
As he rummages in his pockets, he looks to Thadius. "Kicking the bottle, hey? Good time t' do it."
When Getika retrieves her weapons; Dan slightly goggles. Trying to be subtle, whilst still thinking that's a good holster.
Blinking away his thoughts, tension getting to him, the baker roughly empties his pockets. There's a clang from a discarded weight, a piece of ribbon, a spool of string, his handkerchief, a wallet, a toy mouse, and a lighter. The latter he clicks with a smokey flame, that flickers and wavers.
Slowly he reaches into his jacket pocket and gets out a cigarette case, flicking the steel open he looks around the hall before drawing one. "Anyone mind? I don't smoke often, only to soothe t' nerves."
With the unlit cigarette hanging from his lips he looks around; "Does anyone want one?" he queries holding open the case.
Coraline looks around in horror.
"Who could have done such a thing? And why?"
Her brows knit thoughtfully.
"The sheriff is obvious, but why the general? What would criminals have against him?"
"Aye, that's the way to solve this. Try and find out the 'Why' as well as the 'How'." Dan ponders nodding to the dairy seller, as he speaks the pale cylinder bobs precariously between his lips.
"Who wants him dead, who's had dealings with him?" the baker says softly.
"The pore men. Gustav's food was a plumb treat, and the General ain't never done nobody harm that I knows of. Used ta wave ta him as I drove past. All he ever done was sit on his porch and rock and watch the world go by. Cain't imagine what all he seed in the Great War..."
Clara sighs as she finishes dragging both the bodies to the far side of the room, heels bumping across the floor with hollow thuds. She lays them out straight, arms by their sides, legs extended, making sure their eyes are closed before removing each of their jackets and laying them over the surprised, pale faces. "There, all proper-like. Anybody wanta say a few words? No? Well. I ain't no good at this, but Lord, these fine men are with you now. Take good care of 'em and help the rest of us be smart enough to git outta here alive. Amen."
Striding briskly back to the big table in the center of the room, she starts unloading the pockets of her overalls. "Always need string. These mints is a fine thing ta have on the road. Wind makes the mouth right dry. Sugar cubes an a apple... that's fer the horses, 'case they git restless. Cards is good ta have when the loading is late or slow and there's time ta kill waitin' on the train ta come in. Keys to the house and business. That hairbrush was mama's. Some cash money and the stub of my pencil so's the guys at the docks don't take it. Not much else here, sorry."
"I'm right sorry we lost two good men, too," she murmurs to nobody in particular as she unbinds her hair and uses the brush on it, re-wrapping it in a leather thong once the dark locks are smooth and orderly again, "So that was useless. What now? Did we do right voting against pore Gustav? Should we 'a listened to the others and not voted, mebbe? Sit here like ducks on a pond waitin' for the hunter?" She shakes her head, long shining ponytail bobbing with the motion. "Don't rightly know anymore." Her voice is more subdued than usual.
"What I wants ta know is: whar were Badgerman and the Chicken? I thought they was here, pertecktin' us! But we got two dead. Anybody got anything figgered out?"
"You should be careful Haworth, those things will kill you."
Hamish tries to make his play on words sound like a joke.
At Hamishes joke, the baker looks at the cigarette, letting out a soft sigh.
"Well, I suppose t' criminal scum are going to keep killin'. Then 'tis upto us to see if we's can figure out who's who. If t' pair of vigilante's can stop t' murder & buy us time..." Dan hopes.
"But who'll t' criminals target next?" the baker looks around the room then down at himself. A shiver runs down his spine.
Tina is trying to compose herself, trembling in fright from the violence. At the question of if anyone saw who shot the general she shakes her head "No I.. I had my eyes hidden, I didn't want to see you kill Mr. Gustav, I couldn't watch. And the poor general... he was gruff, but really a kind man, always gave a little extra for momma when I fixed his shoes."
"I was working in my shop just before we were sent in here." She starts to empty her pockets, a small hammer, a number of tacks, string for shoelaces, small strips and squares of leather, a needle larger than is normally used for sewing. Her heart nearly stops as her fingers feel the last item in her possession, there's clear hesitation, but she does take it out to show the others. It is a thimble, large enough she probably wears it on her thumb, and slightly rusted. Having been singled out as a weapon a killer might use by Willard, the little shoemaker is practically in tears trying to explain it. "It was daddy's... I just use it to keep from poking my fingers when I stitch the leather. I didn't know it could hurt anybody."
Dan is moved almost to tears by the shoe makers shock and grief. He moves over to her, "There, there." he tries to awkwardly pat her on the back. Followed by an attempt at a hug, but it's a bit careful. The rugged baker not knowing where to put his hands, is very cautious with the reassurance.
Clarence waits for Clara to finish, then stands and removes his hat. His lips move slightly, after which he replaces his hat and walks over to Tina. Meeting Dan's eyes briefly, he puts his hand hesitantly on the young woman's shoulder, and smiles at her.
"Pore Gustav. He coulda spoke up fer hisself, or his friend coulda. Cain't figger why they stayed mum."
Geoffrey's head jerks up at this. Then he looks away from her. He stands and goes over to Gustav's body. He places a small figurine crudely whittled to look like Gustav on top of the man's jacket. He whispers something to the corpse then returns to his seat head bowed and does nothing.
Dan opens up the cigarette case to Clarence; "Want one?" he asks, then realises perhaps it's not the best idea. The upset young shoemaker probably doesn't appreciate it. 'At least I haven't lit it yet. Probably shouldn't'
The bakers eyes flick across the Mr Jacks putting the whittled item upon the dead man. 'To ease the spirit, some sort of voodoo? Or a device of protection.' he wonders.
Clarence pauses for a moment, as if weighing the offer, then shakes his head with a chuckle. "Grateful, ta be sure... but I never did learn that vice."
"It was daddy's... I just use it to keep from poking my fingers when I stitch the leather. I didn't know it could hurt anybody."
"Oh dear," the writer mumbles, realizing that he had upset the woman. This was why he did not go out of his way to talk to people. He was virtually unmatched as a listener, but when it came to talking, he always managed to screw up somehow. Writing is so much easier! I suppose I had better say something to cheer her up... "I'm terribly sorry Miss Wolfswift, I did not mean to implicate you. I mean, any of one of those things could make for a functional murder weapon - it was wrong of me to single out the thimble." Willard mentally pats himself on the back, semi-positive that he had said the right thing.
"Really, Mister Wainwright? You seem ta know a awful lot 'bout killin folks. Purty handy, ain't it?" Clara sighs and shakes her head, then drifts over to Dan. "Sorry, don't mean to accuse no-one. Gittin' a mite jumpy is all." She reaches for a cigarette and whispers a quiet thank-you to the baker.
"More than I'd care to know," he admits with a sigh, nodding his head, "In that respect, the War gave me plenty to write about. But apparently that kind of thing does not sell..."
Dan offers Clara a cigarette with shaking finger, there's a small click of his lighter. The flickering orange flame erupts, ready to light the stick.
He ponders the Dukes words, with a slight shake of his head.
The Irishman watches Clara and Dan intently, then turns to address the duke. "Ye'd like ta know who it be, then, wouldn't ye?"
Thadius finds a tissue and blows his nose loudly, "'scuze me. Think I got a bit o' the cold. Heh, maybe is influenz', maybe we all die the plague get the last laugh, huh?"
He tosses the tissue toward a trash bin, misses, and goes to pick it up. "Conneries!"
"An' what makes y' think ye need watchin' over, hmm?"
"Don't we all like that idea? Feller up New York way just wrote a song 'bout it, I hear tell." Clara begins humming a right purty little tune.
Getika walks over to Tina and puts a hand on her shoulder, looking down with a sad smile, "Worry not about the thimble, little sister." She says soothingly while using the comment to mean she thinks well of the lady she was speaking to, "My items are more true to killing. Yours have no nevermind. Even the thimble."
The woman glances at Dan while putting her small knife back into place in her bodice and winks at him to see what reaction she would get from that. He certainly was a normal man of any nationality.
Clarence answers quietly, pointedly not looking at the Duke.
"Y'seem oddly int'rested in who were the good man's brother, don't ye think?"