Bottles takes a seat. His large frame barely fitting within its confines. I'm sure if we explains things to Mr. Pizner. He will see reason, and be very helpful. Bottles shrugs his right shoulder. Not for nothin' any of you good with a rifle?
"I do not deign to such... tools." Amadeus says with an air of disdain. "I prefer to live by my wits, considerable as they are."
Maybe your friend who took a beatin' has a different take. Your wits didn't do him no favors. Point is. I'm here to keep yous guys breathin' Bottle tries to put it a way that makes the swami see sense Best way to negotiate is for the other guy to see no other way. Maybe we go to the guys office. Maybe a work crew out on the street is makin' a racket. Maybe their union guys that owe a favor. Maybe a friend of mine is across the street with a rifle. Maybe while I'm explainin' things a bullet comes in through the window to show how unsafe the world can be. Maybe we get what we want without any blood on the carpet. Maybe yous can stop looking over your shoulder after said talk. Bottles stares at Amadeus. or we can sit here and see whose better at bustin' balls
Amadeus smiles coldly. "You obviously have your talents, Mister Capone. I yield to your expertise."
"I for one agree. We've been sitting back taking the role of targets... maybe it's time we became the aggressor and see what shakes loose. Let's pay a social call".
"How about this? We tail Pizner and catch him coming back to his car at some point. We persuade him" Freddy looks pointedly at Bottles. "to drive to a place that he can be questioned. I happen to know of a certain abandoned bank that is in a neighborhood where folk probably don't ask a lot of questions. One of us can stand guard outside while the others figure out what Pizner knows. Sound like a plan?"
"Yes. That seems to fit our modus operandi quite well. As usual, I'll keep watch.
Spending two points of stealth:
Spending two points:
Ralph brings a toolbox with a variety of tools and coiled cotton rope, and sets it at his feet in the car. He looks at Freddy who was in the driver's seat and says, Don't spook him, that's my job. He turns to look out the window with a half smile.
Freddy, Bottles and Amadeus head out to Pizner's office in the early morning to wait for him while Anatoly takes the other rented car to Long Beach and the First Bank therein.
It's a long wait for Pizner- it's mid-afternoon by the time you spy a man matching Pizner's description stepping out of a car. He dabs at sweat on his forehead with a handkerchief, settling his hat back in place before walking toward his office. He's a cool customer, but you can tell he's got sort of a spring in his step.
There aren't many people around, though the windows in the neighboring offices have a good view of the parking lot.
It's a bit of a drive out to Long Beach, but that's precisely why the four of you chose the location. By the afternoon, Anatoly's back at the First Bank, still stocked with a cast of vagrants, bums and hookers. Seeing the archaeologist approach, they call out.
"Heya mister, you got a couple cents for a vet'ran?"
"Lookin' for some fun, honey? I got the time if ya make it worth my while..."
"Just twenny five cent... I just need it for my medicine, is all..."
Anatoly ignores the street people, and looks about for somewhere safe... maybe a coffee shop or something nearby, where he might stake out the area.
Seeing an opportunity, Bottles approaches Pizner from the PI's right. He clamps a strong arm on the detective's right hand to keep him from reaching for his piece, the other hand gripping his shoulder like a vice- but it looks friendly enough from a distance. Freddy and Amadeus can hear him say,"Jackie! Pal! We been waitin' for you, we're gonna be late!" and hustle the man into the waiting car, squeezing his shoulder and arm hard enough to dissuade any coherent protest. Pizner is thrown into the car, Bottles on his right and Amadeus on his left in the back seat while Freddy drives toward Long Beach.
Anatoly pulls out a few nice crisp dollars from his pocket, doling them out to the vagrants and encouraging them to find a nice meal, so long as they leave the First Bank alone until tomorrow morning.
In the evening Freddy, Amadeus and Bottles arrive with Pizner in tow. Pizner's been completely quiet the entire ride, beyond the occasional crude insult. You tie him to a chair in what used to be the second floor office of a bank manager, a soiled mattress pulled to the corner and Bottles' "tool box" in full view at his feet.
"Well Bottles... I guess this is why you were sent to us. How can I help"?
Amadeus stands back and watches the maestro work.
Pizner shakes his head, seeming unimpressed thus far.
"Shoulda stayed gone, s$*@birds. Where's the shrink, huh? Too busy pullin' his balls out of his ass?"
James
"You should be happy that we didn't bring him. His psycobabble would probably have driven you crazier than the fruitcakes that hired you."
Freddy looks back and gestures to Bottles. "Unfortunately for you, we did bring him. See, he has an entire toolbox that he carries around with him, dedicated to making people talk. What kind of person does that!?." Freddy scratches his stubbly chin and stares remorsefully at Pizner. "If you don't talk to me, you are about to find out."
If needed:
Pizner shrugs in his chair.
"I couldn't give a s$#! about you amateurs, personally. But my employers hired me to run you off and find out who hired you. I ain't spillin' more than that- the crap these people get up to, I'll take my chances with Capone."
Having little method for corersing the subject, Anatoly takes his normal place keeping watch just outside the room.
Bottles cracks his knuckles and starts working Pizner over. He doesn't have to get too far into his "toolbox" before ol' Jack has had enough.
"All right, all right!", he says, blood pouring from his broken nose. "I spill my guts, you keep my name out of this? I'll quit town, fine, what the hell else am I gonna do after rattin' 'em out?"
Once you agree, Pizner continues.
"There's this guy, the Captain- Captain Walker, I don't know what his name is other than that- who throws me work from time to time. He hired me to run you guys outta town and find out who put you onto this old business."
"I don't know why he wants to know and I don't care. He works for this big shot up in Pasadena, Trammel, so it's probably his business. But like I said, I don't know and I don't care."
"Fine, I've forgotten your name already. Where do we find this Captain? In Pasadena with Trammel?"
"Yeah. Lives over the garage- the 'Carriage House'. Never seen him off the property, only met him in Pasadena or on the phone."
Anatoly's watch is uneventful, as his bribes have kept the bums and transients away from the First of Long Beach for the night. Eventually, the other four men walk down from the office, pushing a bloodied Pizner along while Bottles straightens his tie with a satisfied look on his face.
You throw Pizner out of the car at his office in the dead of night, then rush out to a parking lot to scrub the car of his prints and any blood he left behind, just in case.
"Damn Trammel and that creepy place again. Maybe we can stake it out, and follow anybody that leaves to see if there is another location. Or we could figure out a way to meet this Trammel outside of his residence.
"I think we should watch his place and try to gather more information. Do you think it would be possible to get a look inside anyway"?
Between Freddie's stake out and Anatoly's perusal of the blueprints filed when Trammel built the mansion, you've been able to put together a floor plan of the mansion and its grounds- here are your notes. For better planning, you can continue observing the place and get a better idea.
The four of you drive back to your hotel after your "interview" with Pizner. You've only had at most a few hours of sleep before you're roused by loud banging on each of your doors.
"LAPD! OPEN UP!"
Before you even have a chance to comply, your door is kicked open by LAPD Vice Squad agents, guns drawn! You're dragged out into the predawn, cuffed and thrown into a paddy wagon. When you ask what you're being charged with, one of the detectives answers,"Askin' dumb questions, why else? You wanna know, I'll tell your body in the morgue." And he slams the rear door shut. [ooc]
"Don't say nothin' about nothin'.", Bottles says on the bumpy ride to the downtown precinct. "They ain't got a case and they know it."
You're thrown into a holding cell with a particularly poor toilet, alongside drunks and other offenders. Each of you is hauled into an interrogation room, one at a time.
"What are you doin' in Los Angeles?"
"What's your connection to Ralph Capone, alias 'Bottles'?"
"Where were you August 18th, 5:30 in the afternoon?" Breaking into Jack Pizner's office, but that's not something you're about to admit.
"Are you currently or have you ever dealt in pornographic photography or films?"
They pummel you each with questions and threats and you face them down with either a plausible answer, a convincing enough lie, a message from the spirits or by pretending your English is poor. The sun rises and the hours pass slowly as you try to at least get a phone call out to Janet so she can arrange a lawyer. Fortunately, by 2 pm or so an unfamiliar detective comes by the holding cells. He points to Amadeus, Anatoly and Freddie.
"Get 'em outta here. Vice didn't find anything. But we're gonna get very well acquainted with you, Mr. Capone."
Bottles rolls his eyes.
"Tell Janet to give my lawyer a ring, huh?", he says as the three others shuffle out.
The duty officer lets you all out, returning everything they confiscated. Dumped out into the hot Southern California afternoon, you all flag down a cab back to the hotel... only to find management waiting for you.
"It is not in our policy to rent to pornographers! Nor to have our rooms ransacked by the LAPD! Your rentals are revoked, and I'll be keeping your payment to cover damages!", the hotel manager blusters as you gather your things from your thoroughly ransacked hotel rooms.
The saving grace is that crazy Doctor Udko thought to put Henslowe's photographs of the '24 cult's "worship" into a safe deposit box- it's probably what kept you from a longer stay in the LA jail.
And that leaves you in yet another hotel, haphazardly packed suitcases nearly bursting on the luggage stand and dark rings under your eyes.
"Well that was... interesting... we need to be more careful going forward. Janet owes us big time for this. So... what's next? More watching, or do you guys think we're ready to pay a discrete visit? Maybe a good cover story about some gas company inspectors or fire inspectors or something, just to get a lay out of things in person, and perhaps secretly allow a point of egress"?
Amadeus straightens his turban and brushes off the imaginary dust left by this whole ordeal. "I, for one, am glad the spirits warned me not to pack my good clothes. This whole mess.." He shakes his head. "If we're impersonate some sort of common laborer, we will need common laborer clothing. Coveralls and tools."
"I think that Janet's friends are not true friends as she believes. The first sign of trouble, and off they go. At least a couple of us remain true. My grandfather always said that the wealthy and privileged have many material things, but those can't be used to purchase friendship. I believe he was right".
A ring from the front desk indicates that you have a Western Union telegram from Janet.
Mr. Dudko and Co.
Despite recent setbacks, I am quite pleased with your progress.
Dr. Udko returning with more assistance, looking forward to more results.
Do contact me if you run into any more significant snags in our business.
Payment has been forwarded to your trustees back home.
- JWR
While you discuss your plans, you reflect on what's transpired and avenues of forward progress. Despite the rough road, you've found that you're adapting to this sort of life.
Ralph Haas, Joseph Westmore and someone whose name you didn't quite catch...
It's been a very roundabout few days- it started about two weeks ago, when Janet Winston-Rogers got in touch with you about looking into some of her late father's business. While you were curious, other matters had held you up ahead of the meeting; but Janet is a busy woman herself and understands these sorts of things. In fact, she still would like to get your help if your schedule is clear- oh no, I'll send a car for you, he should be pulling up now.
And so you've gone from the Northeast all the way to San Francisco.. and then on a long train ride down the California coast to Los Angeles. When you asked the man who met you in San Francisco, a Dr. Paul Udko, why in the hell you didn't just fly into Los Angeles directly he gave a furtive look and mentioned, "Oh, they must be watching the airports now. The train will be safer."
Dr. Udko, a bespectacled man in his 60s with a combover and drifts of dandruff on his shoulders, explains the matter at hand.
"My late patient and Janet's father, Walter Winston a very interesting case, had apparently traveled the country in the 20s- 1924 specifically- fighting what his associate Mr. Henslowe described as the Cult of the Thousand Mouths. We caught up to Henslowe in Savannah, who gave us the tip that their materials from '24 were in a safe deposit box in Los Angeles where the final confrontation with this cult occurred."
"We pried the information from Roosevelt's pawns at the FDIC as to where the safe deposit box had been held and found a book of accounts and photos of depraved sexual encounters that would make Dr. Freud blanche. We spoke to Ramon Echavarria's accountant- Echavarria ran the cult in the '20s you see- and found where the farmhouse was where the battle with Winston and his friends occurred. After browbeating the foreman, we found he had been bribed to report on anyone asking about the '24 Summoning. From there we had... encounters... with a very unpleasant man named Jack Pizner who had been hired to run us off on behalf of one Samson Trammel. It seems Trammel may have the answers about the cult and whether it's still around and so... well, you'll have to speak with the others about how to go about that."
After arriving in Los Angeles and renting a car, you drive from one hotel to another on a list Dr. Udko has in his notebook. Eventually, you settle on a motor lodge in West Hollywood where Udko recognizes a car. The doctor acquires more rooms at the front desk and knocks at a door on the upper level of the complex.
The door opens on three men smoking and talking in a motel room with yellowing wallpaper.
"Gentlemen, these are my... associates- Mr. Anatoly Dudko (no relation), Mr. Alfred Elliot and the one in the turban is 'ahem' Amadeus Ra, the spiritualist."
I step into the motel room, a little hesitantly. I'm still not totally sure I believe everything that Ms. Winston has told me, but her father's estate was quite a windfall for my collection. I felt compelled to at least hear here and her friends out.
I'm somewhat of a large man, though neither fat nor muscular. Just...large. I have a bushy beard and my clothes reveal that I care very little about what my clothes reveal about me. My eyes dart around to my traveling companions and my new associates in the motel room, as though I'm making a mental catalog of everyone I've met and how they may be used in this endeavor.
I give an awkward wave "I'm Ralph Haas, of Haas and Haave Nots. You...you may have heard of the store?"
Hello... Ralph... is it. I am Anatoly Dudko. You can probably tell from my accent that I have Russian Heritage. I am somewhat of an Archaeologist, with a position at Brown. Where is this store located"?
Anatoly while not homely seems to always look disheveled, and has a thick and full beard. He is of medium height, with dark hair and eyes, and is probably a pound or two over his ideal weight.
Still his handshake is firm, and you get the feeling that he is a trustworthy man.
"So what brings you among us"?