"Well, I can give it a try, but you know, in my line of work, people asking too many questions, often end up sleeping with the fishes."
Zandora walks the streets for a while, trying to pick up what people are saying about what happened.
When Rigel asks him to check out the third Vitruvio, Drahkn’s wings rise in a shrug, then he bobs his head. ”Very well. I can give it a sshot.” He looks to the fairy. ”What about you?”
"Do we know what type of business this third Vitruvio is running? Could impact my decision."
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Between Rigel's knowledge of the city and Zandora's boots-on-the-ground approach, it's not hard to figure out what kind of business the third Vitruvio runs. He deals in cheap furniture, mostly, though persistent rumors and one hollowed-out table leg confiscated by Crossroads PD say he uses it as a front for rare magical components.
Rigel explained what he knew about the third Vitruvio to the fairy and the dragon. Perhaps with the possibility of magic items there was something more to it. But the investigator would still wager that the crime-related Vitruvio was the one they were looking for.
Once he explained what he knew, he thought about how to approach the police about the perpetrators of the heinous murderer. After a short pause, he came to a decision and rose. "I'll go ahead and try my end of things now...hopefully I'll get the info we need before the promised payments occur. Feel free to welcome yourself in to the lounge when you're done. I'll be back when I'm done."
The young man then waved to the others and excused himself, heading out the door to the local police precinct he thought the criminals might have been taken to.
Zandora returns to the office, telling everyone what she learned, and then just hangs out while everyone decides what they are doing for the night. When everyone leaves, she locks up and goes upstairs to her apartment.
The fairy considers this information and assents. "We go first thing in the morning."
Drahkn bobs his head. "I will meet you back here at firssst light." the dragon says, before turning and flapping through the open window.
On his way back to his lair, he takes his time, quietly observing the streets as he proceeds via a circuitous route, stopping periodically and changing course multiple times to ensure he isn't being followed or observed.
The small, stealthy creatures set out for the Burrow, to Vitruvio and Sons Furnishings. Kenib's Hollow is a small neighborhood in the Burrow, home to some of the well-to-do residents of the Burrow.
The storefront is nothing too fancy, the name of the business written in slightly faded lettering.
Oak Hollow is quaint as always. The business in question, A&V Bakery, has a small line out front and to Milo's sensitive halfling nose, the smell of freshly baked bread wafting out of the place.
A large, mustachioed human man bustles around behind the counter, and all manner of pastries and breads are visible on shelves or in a long display case.
When it comes to gangster hangouts favored by the Lucenzos, a few spring to mind. Salvatore Lucenzo's favorite speakeasy downtown is always popular, with up-and-coming members of the syndicate hoping to snag a few words with the boss. A shooting club on the edge of Mount Storm is also popular.
Two police buildings are nearby. The 3rd precinct is closer, and with their lower levels of activity their likely to have someone willing to listen. The main police building across from City Hall is almost certain to have information, though acutally getting that information would be much trickier given it's size and the general apathy of it's staff.
When the dragon and fairy reconvene in the morning, Raton is initially nothing but a grouch, unhappy and unhelpful. "People put too much faith in there being a tomorrow," it says dispassionately. While it still wears its satchel around its neck, it has traded in the suit for a loose grey dress (or perhaps an oversized tunic?) and a blue sweater laced with red cords. Atop its grotesque pug-ugly head and between its large ears, it wears a thimble sized poet's cap.
Mulling it over in transit, Rigel made a decision and took a turn to head towards the 3rd Precinct. It was unlikely that the criminals had actually been taken there, but the building was closer and the young man found the officers and support staff there much more willing to impart information to someone who technically didn't have a need to know.
When the dragon and fairy reconvene in the morning, Raton is initially nothing but a grouch, unhappy and unhelpful. "People put too much faith in there being a tomorrow," it says dispassionately. While it still wears its satchel around its neck, it has traded in the suit for a loose grey dress (or perhaps an oversized tunic?) and a blue sweater laced with red cords. Atop its grotesque pug-ugly head and between its large ears, it wears a thimble sized poet's cap.
Drahkn blinks twice. ”Was there another option?” he asks. Without waiting for a response he says, ”Lets go, we can talk on the way.”
Before they break, Kolaiah asks, "anyone up for coming with me to the speakeasy where I suspect we can find him?"
The fairy grimaces dramatically at the minotaur's offer. "No, no, I stay away from the Lucenzos."
As the dragon and fairy move toward the tailor's, it replies to the dragon, "Time isn't real, dragon. Sometimes it breaks or just doesn't work. I have seen it before, yes, yes."
Rigel paused for a moment, then called back to Kolaiah, "If you want to wait a bit, I'll come with you after I finish at the police department." The young man didn't envy the minotaur the task, and if he was uneasy the crime syndicate would likely figure that out quickly.
The 3rd precinct isn't a large affair. Even the reception room is cramped and disorganized.
A bored-looking elven secretary sits at a desk, typing away at a typewriter.
She looks up, the apathy dripping off her voice, "Whaddya need, hon?"
Kolaiah will wait for Rigel's assistance.
The young man walked into the entry room, arching a brow at the general state of the place as he walked the short distance to the desk. A polite smile appeared on his face, his voice warm and friendly. "Good evening, ma'am. I'm needing the names of the two that were picked up over at the Lounge, and next of kin if you have it. I was told at least one of them was in really shape, and we want to make sure the family can get in to see them before they're off for the Boneyard, if you get my drift."
Milo lets his senses enjoy the time spent waiting until he gets up to the counter. He looks for anything that could be suspicious or out of the ordinary, though spends just as much time perusing the quality of baked goods presented.[i]'After all, this man is talented in a craft so similar to my family's own, it is like the opposite side of a truly delicious coin. How could we not become best of friends?'[/b]
Stepping forward once its his turn, Milo greets the baker much in the way a proprietor greets a patron. "Good day sir, I am Milo Blackbottom. I must confess, the temptation your confectionaries present has proved too much for my lustful appetite, and I must indulge. Please, from one yeast-master to another, what would you recommend for me to experience the height of your masterwork?"
Drahkn gives the fairy a look that says something like "You must be crazy" and continues on. When they arrive at the store, he stops just infront of the door. "Sso, how are we going to do thisss?"
"Heh, fancy-talkin' little fellow aren't you. Well, I make some pies that're to die for. The apple's great, but I make a chocolate cream that'll drive you wild."
The woman stops typing, lowering her horn-rimmed glasses, "You're gonna waltz in here and ask for information on a recent and sensational murder?"
A slight smile flits across her face, "Well, that's the most exciting thing I've dealt with in weeks. I'll see what I can do."
She gets up from her desk and walks into the precinct proper, returning a few minutes later with a file.
"Well, the main branch could tell you more, but this should have a bit of what you're looking for."
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Rigel maintained eye contact with the elven woman when she stopped typing, portraying an aura of confidence that conveyed that yes, he was very much privy and entitled to the information requested. When the woman smiled and got up to go get what she could, the young man made sure to check her out as she walked off, just in case she looked back. Appearances and all had to be kept.
When she returned with the file, Rigel leaned forward conspiratorially. "Main branch possibly could, but the folks over there aren't as efficient or helpful as you are. Thank you, doll." He flashed her a grin, then leaned back against the desk, rifling through the file, looking for names and addresses and anything else that seemed noteworthy.
The fairy scrunches up its eyes, thinking. "We need handwriting, yes? It is a furniture store. We buy cheap furniture, ask for a handwritten receipt. If he doesn't give to us, maybe one of us does some talking, the other does some sneaking."
A big smile on his face, Milo leans in and looks up at the baker. "Well, then, my good man, I'll take three o' each to bring back to the distillery! Got a hard working family to treat to something nice. How much do I owe yea for it?" Reaching into his pouch, he begins thumbing for a few coins. Looking back up with a twinkle in his eye,"Say, from one artisan to another - do you appreciate the taste of whiskey? And not no rotgut, but the good stuff? If'n these pies are as good as yea say, I'd be honored if yea'd taste my product in turn? Perhaps I could bring a bottle by, or you could come by the distillery some day?"
Rigel notices two names, Ezvix Hjelst and Aylincha Murtos. Addresses for both come from a tenement on the outskirts of Oak Hollow.
The baker shakes his head, ”I do my best to stay away the drink. I do appreciate the offer though.”
He produces a pad of paper, writing up a receipt on it, ”Those pies’ll be finished up this afternoon. You’ll pay for them then. Take care now.”
Though failing to get the word out about his whiskey, Milo has succeeded in getting some handwriting.
After he was done quickly scanning the info in the folder, Rigel placed it back neatly and closed the file, handing it back to the elven secretary. "Thank you, ma'am. Your help won't be forgotten. Take care of yourself."
After flashing another grin at the woman, he gathered his coat and quickly strode out of the precinct, heading to meet back up with the minotaur and see where that string went.
Well, that's vague. Should work well enough, I guess. The dragon shrugs and pushes open the door. "After you."
With a chuckle, Milo takes the receipt from the baker. "Ah, well, if you change your mind, or are looking to celebrate a special occasion, just let me know. I will be back later for the pies. Good day!"
With a bow and a tuck of his cap, Milo turns and darts out the door, making his way back toward the rendezvous with his new comrades. As he travels, he takes a little time to look over the handwriting on the receipt, and attempts to recall the appearance of the handwriting on the note from earlier.
The two of you head into the shop. It’s a small affair, and clearly not lovingly maintained. A young man sits with his feet kicked up on his desk, listening to a sports game.
As the two of you walk in he turns down the radio and jolts to attention. His eyebrows furrow as he sees a dragon and a fairy waiting to buy furniture, but he says with his best customer service voice, ”Well, ah, how can I help you today?”
Without a sample of the other handwriting in front of you, it’s hard to tell, though from what you can remember there aren’t many similarities.
Rigel strode back into his small office building, feeling rather satisfied with himself. The self-congratulations would have to wait, he feared, for he surmised that the group was on a time crunch. Thinking that the digging into Vitruvio could wait, the young man found the minotaur. "Hey chief, before we check out Vitruvio, let's go check out this address in Oak Hollow. This is supposedly where the families of the perps live."
If Rigel saw Zandora back in the establishment, he gave her a slight nod of assent, assuming she might want to join them as well. The young woman had keen eyes, and was pretty enough to cause a distraction if the situation warranted it.
The young man seems out of his depth, "Uh...Sons, I guess? I mean, I'm a Vitruvio too but, well, nevermind. So furnitue for you two love...bats? Sorry, didn't mean to presume. What do you need? Like a tiny little chair?"
Drahkn grimaces and shakes his head. "I'm just here to carry things. Tiny isn't much for carrying furniture."
Noting his nod, Zandora goes along with Rigel to the Oak Hollow address.
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The younger Vitruvio, who introduces himself as Junior, nods, "Ah, yeah, we have a catalog, though anything for you will need to be custom made."
He looks around behind the desk before pulling out a booklet with various furniture designs.
Of note, the catalog includes a phone number for the older Vitruvio for "specialty items."
Whether by car, foot, or public transit, getting to the edge of Oak Hollow takes a while. Nonetheless, you all reach the tenement that Rigel learned of in the police report. It's a fairly ramshackle affair, built to fit as many people as possible without many other concerns. Notably, it seems to be populated mostly by planetouched humans, with tieflings, genie-kin and gravewalkers being most common
You hear some chatter about two private investigators and a minotaur in Oak Hollow. This has to be the rest of the team, minus the dragon and the fairy.
Kolaiah is a bit of a joiner, so he'll gladly accompany the other two.
Before they go in, Zandora asks Rigel
Okay, how do you want to do this, and what exactly do you want to know? Is there a cover story, or just play it by ear?
Rigel looked up a second, collecting his thoughts, before answering Zandora. "We're trying to figure out if these 'payments' made their way to the families of our two murderers yet. If not, then we'll scope out the place until the delivery shows up. If so, then we persuade our hosts to tell us who brought the goods." Rigel reached up and fiddle with his cap, and within a few moments it was replaced with a navy, flat-topped cap and a matching uniform. He grinned over at Kolaiah and then waved them through the door.
As they approached the tenement and the young man saw the sizable number of plane-touched, he looked over (and up) at the minotaur and then to Zandora. "Seems like this is more your crowd, beautiful. How about we spruce you up, and you can be the detective, and us as the grunt muscle to back you up?" If Zandora was agreeable, Rigel led the other two a short ways to a clothing shop, buying a couple pieces to lend some credibility to the disguise.