"Can I ask you to keep this matter under your hats?"
"Of course. That's twice we owe you now. Look, I'll only tell..."
Braddon thinks back a beat then notices the look on Arnando's face."You're right. I'll tell no one."
Braddon heads back towards the door and pauses.
"Thanks. And remember, anything at all."
Walking up to Marce, Phillip purposefully puts his back towards the half-orcs and makes no motion to turn or peek over his shoulder. In conversational terms he adds "Well... that went well enough. Still a few rivers to ford, but we're underway." exhaling and picking a copper from his pocket to idly fidget with "Thanks again Marce... for everything. I'd keep you appraised of the outcome if you've an interest?" arching an eyebrow to seek confirmation or denial.
"Aye," Marce answers, a look of mild surprise on his face that Phil would even ask. "It touches on Ethel and has affected Almah and Maddy as well. I'll want to know when the matter's been resolved and no longer hanging over their heads."
With a simple nod "Done... where can I get word to you tomorrow?"
"Ethel knows where I live," he answers. "If for any reason I'm not there, you can leave word here with Arnando."
Phillip sees Braddon reappear from the door behind the bar.
A slight rise of the eyebrow at Ethel's knowledge of Marce's place of residence is dispelled at the sight of Braddon emerging. Phil goes over to him "You're welcome to come along to see the murder if you like... but I won't force."
"I can handle some murder," Braddon responds.
He looks about then leans closer to Phillip.
"Arnando lifted Daynadrian's curse so he's fled town but it's best if Shorafa doesn't know so she doesn't go after either of them so don't tell a single soul."
He stands straighter again and looks for the half orcs.
"Ready when the dogs are," he says only loud enough for Phillip to hear.
Phil and Braddon rejoin Boss Croat's men and take their leave from the Publican House. The foursome walk upriver past the daytime ferry dock, directly across the Velashu from Grimas's cottage, to the dock at the southern tip of Free-Coin; after dark, it's a more reliable place to catch a return ferry. In contrast to the dark of River District, the Overlord's entertainment district is brightly lit, well-populated, and regularly patrolled by uniformed Gendarmes. At this time of night, there are still more new arrivals to the casino area than departures so they have no trouble catching the first boat back to the east side of the river.
In Leeward District, the streets are relatively quiet, although it's a populated quiet, not the tangible sensation of emptiness encountered among the abandoned businesses of River District; lamps are visible in windows of residences, even if all the stores are shuttered for the evening. As the four men pass through Leeward Common and head south, however, the sense of safety ebbs the nearer they come to the edge of Rotgut.
Ladies' Attire and Necessities is quite near the dividing line between neighborhoods; the lights here are shrouded behind thick curtains and iron bars on the windows. Betta's shop itself is entirely unlit. Bruno takes a key from a ring at his belt and unlocks the front door. As it opens, the absence of the tiny dog's yapping makes the quiet even more sinister. The half-orc fumbles with a lamp for a moment before the wick flares to life, shedding light on the interior of the shop.
The main area of the store looks just like Phil last saw it, but for the darkness and the absence of the owner and her dog. The door in the back presumably leads to the portion of the building in which the seamstress made her residence. Bruno grunts a noncommittal invitation as he leads the way to the back; his companion shuts and locks the door again behind them.
Phillip's eyes flare wide at Braddon's news before he takes a breath of two to center himself and offer a simple nod to the bounty hunter's view. A simply uttered "Later we'll talk... after the job's done."
Allowing himself to be quietly driven to Betta's shop Phillip runs a hand through his hair as he quells his internal tension. Once arrived he gives the front room a quick review, confirming with his own eyes whether the area had been disturbed or there was anything out of place. Keeping his voice quiet and his eyes agile he casts out his senses to try and soak up nuance...
Winking to Braddon he adds "Any sign of recent traffic that's not us?" recalling his bounty hunting skills.
To Bruno and 'Lucky' he businesslike queries "Body is in the back?" before non-verbally seeking an answer of whether they want him to walk first or second through.
Braddon pushes forward at Phil's words and his eyes cast about for anything out of the ordinary. Humans tend to live in two dimensions so he check the floors and the ceiling for signs of disturbance: the fleck of blood underfoot or spray on the ceiling; an article disturbed by rushed or clumsy passage, or even a normally unused corner that may have been stepped in under unusual circumstances.
"If they wanted to leave a warning then it shouldn't be too hard to find. If she was killed for being horrible then anyone could have done it. I've got my eye on one myself. Was there supposed to be a dog? What happened to it?"
Phil nods at Braddon's questions - but leaves it to the half-orcs as to whether they're going to explain the mutt's abscence.
The plank floor is clean but very worn and gray with age. Dressmakers' dummies of various sizes take up much of the space in the small shop; bolts of cloth, mostly serviceable and drab, line the back wall, and a set of tall cabinets set with small drawers sits to the left, a rolling stepladder by their side. Three mismatched mirrors are set in the far corner with a folding screen ready to provide privacy if needed; nearby is a small, shabby settee and a low table with a stack of teacups. A cushioned basket set beneath a worktable attests to the habitual presence of a small pet.
"Was there supposed to be a dog? What happened to it?"
Bruno grunts, while the other half-orc turns a smile into a cough. "Bit the first responders and then wouldn't shut up yapping. Chucked it in a sack and took it back to the compound to get it out of the way."
He opens the door in the back wall to reveal a narrow corridor, just wide enough for another door and a staircase leading up. "Goes to the alley," he jabs a finger at the door. "Locked up tight when we got here just like the front. No signs of tampering. Almost like an employee who had a key." He looks at Phil significantly as he climbs the stairs to the second story. His companion waits for the halfling and half-elf to follow, then brings up the rear.
At the top of the stairs, Bruno uses his lit lamp to begin lighting others to illuminate the scene. The stairway leads into a rather bare apartment, divided into two rooms. The larger contains an old and uncomfortable-looking sofa, covered with a dingy crocheted blanket, a small wooden table with a single chair, a stove, a narrow and long-legged worktable, and a washbasin and pitcher on a stand; a wooden cupboard is bolted to the wall. Through the door to the smaller section, a tightly-made bed can be seen.
The body is lying on the floor in the kitchen area of the larger room, dressed in a shabby dressing gown, with a kerchief tied neatly around its head. In contrast to the splayed limbs and look of terror on the dead face, the clothing is in perfect array, save for the bloodstains around the neck and shoulders.
The first thing that strikes Phil is the wound. The description he had heard was that her throat had been cut; what he is seeing looks less precise. It's more like her throat has been punctured in several places on either side. The blood flow doesn't look to have been copious enough for the woman to have died from bleeding out.
Not immediately evident to the halfling but visible to Braddon from his higher vantage point, a chipped saucer and mismatched tea cup are laid out atop the tall table. The cup is still full of what was, presumably, once tea but now has settled to a thick layer of sediment beneath a layer of faintly-murky water. A few oblong tea biscuits are in the saucer; they are crumbled and gnawed around the edges, as if by some sort of rodent. The corpse and the cup and saucer are the only parts of this room that appear at all disordered.
"Well, if the dog wouldn't shut up, how did someone get in and out unnoticed?" Braddon asks.
He looks around the door to the alley for scuffs on the threshold or some dislodged mud.
"If she was a neat freak there should be prints or something on the newly cleaned floor. How many of you guys have run around here? Has anyone checked the alley? How many guys have run around there? And who locks up behind them after committing murder with a yapping dog?"
When they reach the body Braddon points again. "Look, if someone came in downstairs, the dog yaps, she gets up from here and goes downstairs. Even if she's slow that still puts the body on the staircase."
Braddon looks about for a window then peers into the bedroom.
"Happened before she went to bed. Did this happen this evening or last night? And what happened to all her blood? Surely you guys have cut throats before. Once you hit that big thingy at the side and slightly up in the neck blood just sprays everywhere."
He pauses and looks at the faces about him.
"What?"
Phil is quiet as Braddon expounds upon what he views of the scene. He doesn't touch anything yet, and purposefully keeps his hands clasped behind his back as he kneels to look at the woman's neck. Rules out the Rotgut connection at least... far too clean. They would've sacked the place as well. Was this even a blade?
As he waits for the half-orc's to respond to Braddon's initial questions he takes a very good look at the wounds on Betta's neck. His main intent is making a halfling's observation of whether he's looking at bite or fang marks... or wounds that show an edged tearing at the wound's side.
"Well, if the dog wouldn't shut up, how did someone get in and out unnoticed?" Braddon asks.
"Look, if someone came in downstairs, the dog yaps, she gets up from here and goes downstairs. Even if she's slow that still puts the body on the staircase."
"If it was someone the mutt knew, like an employee...," Bruno concludes with a triumphant glance at Phillip.
The window in the bedroom is a small one, probably large enough to admit a gnome or halfling, but not anyone the size of a grown human. Despite the room's tidiness, there is a distinct odor when you peek in, one that is explained by a few piles of canine excrement in the corner; apparently, there was a significant period of time during which no one was letting the dog out to do its business.
The woman's body looks as if she has been dead a day or so. The skin is ashen and the fingers blue, but there is no visible outward decay.
"How many of you guys have run around here? Has anyone checked the alley? How many guys have run around there?"
Bruno shrugs. "Five. Six. Sure we checked the alley; I told you there was no sign of anyone breaking in."
"Happened before she went to bed. Did this happen this evening or last night?"
It's the other half-orc who answers Braddon this time. "Must have been last night. Neighbors sent for us this afternoon when the dog was yapping and no one answered the door. Dog must have got hungry."
"And what happened to all her blood?"
Bruno laughs. "Yeah, dog was hungry. Must have lapped it up."
Offhand and without acknowledging Bruno's self satisfaction "Dog yapped enough that it'd be more a surprise if it was quiet than noisy."
"No theft, no display, no fight... nothing but these bite marks on her neck." flashing a look towards the two half-orcs to see whether they thought that also... or whether it's a surprise to them. "Unless you think that us dog-biters are like snakes and can dislocate our jaws to get it round her neck in a one-er... guess you might need to start looking further than the employees." standing up and adding "Have you flipped her yet?"
Bruno laughs. "Yeah, dog was hungry. Must have lapped it up."...
Braddon laughs too. "Yeah. Lapped it up off the ceiling, the walls. Lapped it up all the way back to the body. And then decided not to go any further and started barking instead, but only this afternoon. And it's so clean too. Yeah, clever little dog. It must have let the intruder in too and taken them upstairs to meet her so she didn't leave the kitchen. You still got it. I know an old lady who could use it."
Braddon suddenly stops laughing. "The only boot prints I can see round here are your guys. Maybe it was one of them. I mean, everyone trusts..." Braddon shuts up at Phil's observation.
"A snake?!? Well, that'd explain the lack of footprints."
Bruno shrugs. "Dog was all bloody around the face. Don't know how much it lapped up, but it lapped up some. Nothing else for it to eat in here but her. Guess if the neighbors hadn't called us to come check, there would have been less of her left." He laughs.
"Seen sailors with a shark-tooth necklace," he points out to Phil defensively. "Maybe someone put one on the end of a stick, made a spear out of it." He gestures to the other half-orc to come help him shift the body. "Lifted her up a bit to peek under when we first found her. She was all stiff already."
The pair each take a side and carefully roll the corpse over. The back of the neck and arm are stained a deep red-brown by the blood pooling under the skin. Blood has dried on the back of Betta's dressing gown and in her hair, and there is some staining on the otherwise clean floor beneath the body but still not enough for her to have died from exsanguination. The rigor is relaxing now, and Betta's head swings back at a near ninety-degree angle from her shoulders as the body is gently lifted; the spine has clearly been snapped.
Braddon's frivolity instantly vanishes.
"Desna's wings, what happened to her?"
'Lucky' grimaces. "Dunno. Didn't do that last time. She was stiff."
Phillip maintains his composure, but takes a moment out to smooth his mustache. Quietly he sighs before muttering "Eskuineko nahastea A This was not done by any force I know... Have you searched the room and body well? - might I have your leave to do so now?"
Bruno scowls suspiciously. "I'll be watching you," he tells Phillip threateningly. "Closely. Anything you find, you show me before moving it. Luca, you watch the other one."
Phillip nods and gives an expansive bow "Of course" before launching into an extensive search of body first and room second.
Phil also casts his mind to what he knows of the flow of bodies in the city... if they were funneled through a central location it might be worth some questions as to other corpses with bite marks and snapped necks.
Braddon likewise looks around for clues, but makes his way into the bedroom. In particular, he closely examines the window sill.
"How in the nine hells did it get in?" he mutters.
Under the watchful eyes of the half-orcs, the two men search the body and the small apartment.
Besides the bed and the canine scat, Braddon finds a wardrobe in the bedroom containing a gray flannel nightgown, four dark dresses of such uniform stiffness and outdated fashion that they appear almost identical, a worn black coat, a thick gray-wool shawl, a few corsets and articles of underclothing, and a much-repaired pair of high-button boots. A bedside table holds a basin and pitcher; the water inside is tepid and smells musty. Another small basket with a cushion lies on the floor next to the bed and is by far the newest item in the room.
Beneath the stiff and unyielding cushion of the sofa is concealed a small metal box with a lock.
The cupboard in the kitchen contains a small stack of dishes and flatware, along with a few staples such as a sack of flour and a battered metal canister of tea which looks as if it was once painted pink. A tin box contains a few more of the biscuits which were left out on the saucer. A kettle and pot sit atop the cold stove. A small box of kindling sits on the floor beside it, along with two chipped dishes which have been licked clean, presumably the dog's food and water bowls.
The pockets of Betta's dressing gown are empty, save for a dingy handkerchief and three keys, two large and one small. She is wearing no jewelry but a pair of tarnished earbobs. A long chain around her neck and tucked under her clothing ends in an aromatic ashpidity bag smelling of camphor and fennel gum.
It now appears clear that her death was caused not by the wounds on her neck, which are merely incidental, but by her neck being broken. Who or what might have accomplished this, however, seems to have left no evidence behind. The only indication of any living thing other than the woman and her dog having been in the flat is the nibbled biscuit on the countertop.
Phillip leaves the metal box and keys in free view upon the table, lending the half-orcs a raised eyebrow... but not suggesting anything further. Once all is plumbed the halfling claps Braddon on the lower back by way of thanks and addresses Luca and Bruno "Neck's broken... probably what killed her. Should I open the box?"
Bruno grunts and intercedes, taking the smallest key up himself and applying it to the keyhole on the box. It opens readily. Inside is a leather pouch containing a handful of silver coins and a scattering of copper, clearly the meager proceeds of Betta's life of rectitude and drudgery.
With a sigh "Destitute and without a single copper to her name in the end." shrugging while clearly implying that Bruno and Lucky can pocket the meagre takings. A gnawing voice in Phil's head wonders Three gold paid in the last few days from my purse has come and gone...
After he steps back and to Braddon's side before wardingly raising "Well, I trust we've ably proved that neither myself nor the maiden fair could have done this... and what thought I had as to an alternative source has been disproven by evidence also. I trust our involvement in this is at an end?"
Luca looks offended at Phil's invitation to pocket the coins. "We're not sticky-fingered Gendarmes! The Boss pays a fair wage for a fair job."
For his part, Bruno scowls. "Deal was, you were supposed to help us collar the murderer, not crawl all over the crime scene and walk away with a shrug of your shoulders."
Shrugging away Luca's reaction Phillip focuses instead on Bruno, voice somewhat cold "Don't recall we ever shook on terms... and we've left you better informed than when we all arrived here. Now are we going to part as friends..." reaching into the pit of his stomach to channel the same fire that suffused him when he confronted Bojasc to acidly add "...or am I going to need to start taking offense?"
Bruno seems to swell with outrage, but Luca tugs nervously at his arm. "Onthou ... die dame in die kamer." He turns to Phillip and speaks conciliatorily. "You've got a dog in this fight. Someone killed your girlfriend's former employer and made some trouble for her. We don't want to get in your way, but this is the Boss's turf. When you track down the bastard, how about you tip us off and let us tell the Boss it's been taken care of? That way we've done our job, see? Everyone's happy, and we'll owe you a favor."
Phillip gives a respectful nod and makes a promise "You'll be informed if a breeze either fair or foul wafts our way... and it'll be your ears that hear it. What's the easiest way to send word that'll reach just you?"
Braddon pulls the tin box out of the cupboard, opens it and shows it round.
"Anyone want a biscuit?"
He takes one himself and has a bite, then gestures at the nibbled biscuit on the saucer.
"Was that one of you guys? She doesn't seem the type to have rats. Or to use mismatched cup and saucer. And even when being killed she didn't spill her tea."
Phillip gives a respectful nod and makes a promise "You'll be informed if a breeze either fair or foul wafts our way... and it'll be your ears that hear it. What's the easiest way to send word that'll reach just you?"
Luca shrugs. "Just tell any half-orc you see in the district that you have information for Bruno or Luca. We're not the Gendarmes. We're brothers."
Bruno shuts the cashbox and relocks it, tucking it under his arm, as Braddon offers around the biscuits. "We don't eat dead women's food," he replies scornfully, "but I guess you're used to scavenging if you're a rat catcher. If she had rats, isn't it your problem? That's what they pay you for."
Braddon shrugs.
"I usually get paid upfront for my work. Maybe that's why I'm not keen on doing your job for you."
Braddon takes another bite of the biscuit.
"But at least next time someone shows up in your area with bites and a broken neck, you won't have to waste time checking if the halflings did it."
Braddon gives a most unpleasant smirk.
With a final bow and turning to show his back without concern, Phillip gestures to Braddon for him to follow... and makes his way out from the house and shop.
When free he runs a hand through his hair and confides in Braddon "By the Wasp's Sting something is badly wrong here... I had hoped it was the wastrels from Rot Gut... but this is something else..."
Phillip and Braddon take their leave from the two half-orcs and from Betta's shop.
In the meantime, Thuvalia has finished her repast and returned to her bedroom for the night. "Remember when and how I am to be awakened," she tells Snake reprovingly. "Tomorrow night, I perform. Everything must go smoothly if I am to be at my best."
"By the Wasp's Sting something is badly wrong here... I had hoped it was the wastrels from Rot Gut... but this is something else..."
"Yeah. Any idea what? I'm good at finding people, but that sure didn't look like people to me. And does this mean I'm working for Croat as well? If so, I'm working for all the bosses now."
Braddon walks back to the Goblin with Phil.
In the meantime, Thuvalia has finished her repast and returned to her bedroom for the night. "Remember when and how I am to be awakened," she tells Snake reprovingly. "Tomorrow night, I perform. Everything must go smoothly if I am to be at my best."
Grinning slightly, "Will do, princess." He nods and returns back to the kitchen, finding himself a seat. Guess I'll have to wait until morning to go to Rag's End. I go tonight I more than likely won't make it back. It'll probably be too late by then though. Shaking his head at the conundrum, "Dang." As he rubs the whiskers under his chin, I wonder what Raccoon and Braddon have found out. Should be interesting.
As Snake relocates to the kitchen to wait for Phillip and Braddon's return, Gristav has spent an unrelaxing interval in the solitude of his room, his worry over Larur's absence compounded by the sharp words exchanged with Saul, Tendal, and Snake.
Meanwhile, Phil and Braddon return, leaving the dark shuttered windows of the area near Rotgut behind to pass through the more welcoming environs of Leeward District proper, where the lighted windows of people's rooms stand open to welcome in any cool breeze that might find its way from the harbor. The streets are quiet but not abandoned; there are still a few pedestrians afoot, heading toward the ferry and Free-Coin or toward the House of the Silken Veil.
On the walk Phillip gives a wan smile before gently shaking his head "No... we're not working for Croat, but the business with him isn't finished either. I'm not sure that I want to find out whatever it was that ended Betta. We should inform the others and I'll bring Miss Braum up to speed as well... sleep might be useful as well" chuckling weakly "Should be a hell of a day on the morrow"
Phil's steps lead him towards the Goblin and ultimately first into the common areas that are likely to hold either Gristav or Serpe... if they are still awake at the hour of their return.
Braddon follows Phillip into the Goblin.
"What's happening on the... oh, that's right."
He shrugs.
"Well, at least we get paid again."
Tired smile still barely creasing the corner of his mouth Phillip nods "Aye... there is that..."
Cueing on whatever commotion occurs in the corridor, as the last of the diners return to their rooms, Gristav goes again upstairs, to gather whatever leavings of the meal remained. A plate is made for Larur, and taken to his office, and the rest of the mess stored or scrubbed or set aside on ice.
Gristav finds, unsurprisingly, that the remains of the dinner have been left on the table. When he returns to the kitchen, he finds that Snake has taken up residence on a stool at one of the worktables. Before long, the pair hear the latch at the back door being unlocked from the outside, and Braddon and Phillip come in.
Spying both Gristav and Serpe in attendance Phil sighs slightly before discarding any preamble "Snapped neck, chewed on a bit and neither robbed nor abused in any other way... so... unfortunately, unlikely to be those of Rot Gut." rubbing his own neck with one hand as he stifles a yawn.