Crast shrugged. Technically assault, but he'd look the other way to capture this guy.
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Crast nodded his agreement to the plan. He didn't especially like it. He should be arresting these people. But he wasn't dumb enough to think he could make anything stick without a massive amount of evidence. If this was common enough then it meant the corruption went high.
Crast paused, listening to the conversation. He'd hate to jump the janitors or the like. [dice=Perception#1d20+11[/dice]
Crast's face recoiled at the idea that someone would arrange to kill people like this, or sell it as an experience, but he knew better. For some people anything had a price, even other people. "We should follow the lift up," Crast said after a moment. "If this...place...sells this, the whole killing and stealing whatever the hell it is the killer takes from these people, then that was probably the killer on the lift, meeting whoever they have a contract with."
Crast nodded to the active elevator. "That would be the obvious place. Step in and it looks like you went to another floor, not another part of the world. If it's gonna be a big show, though, it'll probably be somewhere more public. If we have a few minutes I can probably work it out."
Appologies, COVID is kicking my energy levels into the gutter. I'll try and get some posting done in a bit.
"It's not common," Crast said after a moment thought. "You need special permits, and some kinda medical treatment I think." Crast wasn't happy with these ideas, as it meant he was living a lie. A stupid play for tourists with a script he would never see. But it made a depressing level of sense.
Cast gestured to the lift. He wasn't sue if the elevator was also a magic box of some kind, like the ice cream closet, but if nothing else the fact they were likely somewhere near a killer who'd already tried shooting them once made him cautious.
Crast moved out of the space box and looked around. "So what do people see? An icecream truck moving around, or does it appear like at the shooting?"
Well, Crast ws starting to wonder what had been in the last cup of bad coffee he'd drunk before this frickin' fever dream had begun, and whether the department would let him have time off to deal with it all, but even in his deluded nightmares he couldn't leave people in need. "Sure," he said with a consigned shrug, following behind the Specialist and out her magic transport box.
Crast looked into the van, staring arund for a moment, then pulled his head inside again. "Huh." He tapped the wall. "You weren't kidding about it being roomier than it looks," he added after a moment. Listening to explanation, and ignoring the feeling of being watched for now - it would be easy enough to have cameras, or the equivalent, here - Crast absorbed the information given. "Alright. So, the killer is from another time, and is teleporting in an out of the scene. Is that about right?"
Watching the scene unfold, and doing what he was told, Crast tried to discern anything he could - the assailants height, based on the angle of the attacks from this...predictive model? If it was it was a hell of a lot more advanced than any of the ones he'd ever seen. "What the hell was that?" Crast said, his eyes narrowing as the vision fades. "Look, I'm not a complete idiot. Something is obviously going on that I don't get, something offworld. Something to do with Sunset Alley. Something killing people. Now, I get you're some kinda Specialist, way outside my rank, way outside my paygrade, and I'm not the kinda idiot to screw up this investigation by not working with every resource I have. But one of those resources is my frickin' brain, and I can't use it right until I know whatever the hell this is about. Two dead bodies before dawn tell me we're probably gonna have more. So tell me what I need." He glanced at the corpse. "Please." Crast wasn't too proud to beg if it kept some else alive.
Crast nods to the officer. "I'll be over in a moment," he said, nodding to the older man too, before turning his attention to the body. "Did this guy get jumped?" Crast wonders outloud, noting the wounds on the back of the neck, and kneels, looking to see if there's anything else. Defence marks would suggest he hadn't been attacked from behind, for example.
"Uhhh...not especially? I mean, yeah, I've had friends die, but we have counseling." He paused. "The boss does shout a lot, though. Now, if you've finished with the crazy talk, I can radio Reilly and ask for the address. And call in this shooting."
"The what?" Crast looked at the woman as though she'd grown a third head. "I mean, we have a Government? I can tell you more, if you really want, but one's much like another from what I've heard." He looked at the brochure, and shook his head. "No idea what that is or where, either."
"What on world does this thing deliver?" Crast asked as he stared at the smashed bullet. Still, he focused again on where the shots came from, seeing if he could spot any movement.
What the hell? Magic vans were one thing. For now, though, they needed to deal with the sniper - and vans didn't tend to be bullet proof. And one of the women had apparently just flipped away. This is gonna be a pain. Crast moved into cover behind the van, in the hope of not dying.
Crast stopped at the explosion, scanning the area for where the shot came from.
Well, hell. Crast was already moving as he nodded. If this was some kind of killing spree they needed to find the idiot behind it, find them fast, and stop them before they caused who knew how many deaths. Not to mention public panic.
Crast took a sip of the tea. "Apple and cinnamon," he said, taking another small sip. It tasted better than the hot leaf juice that made up the teas most people seemed to think were a substitute for good, strong coffee.
"Good answer," Crast murmured, noting that it hadn't really answered anything. Looking at the tea, he shrugged and put the coffee aside. "I'll try anything. Once."
Crast glanced at the device in mild curiosity, but people got odd tech from off world now and then. "Not much to tell, really. My ma was a police officer, so I followed in her footsteps. I'm pretty good at finding clues and putting them together, so I went up in the ranks to detective. Don't especially care to go higher, so here's where I am." He didn't bother asking them about themselves, on the theory that anyone calling themselves a Specialist without a introduction probably wasn't going to be a big sharer. Still, he wouldn't be a detective if he didn't prod. "What brought your interest in this case? I'd barely gotten there myself."
"Not much. Canvasing hasn't raised much information. The door was open and the neighbor found the body. We haven't finished the general background checks yet - it's late, I'm afraid." Crast took a sip of his coffee, added more cream, then tried again.
Abradel tipped his hat before taking it off - he was indoors, after all, and he had the manners his mommas taught him - and said, "Thank you, Sandy," before heading to the booth and sitting.
"If you wish," Crast said, still guarded. The documentation had been fine, and the other officers at the scene had obviously seen it too, but something was off about the strange women. It put him on edge, especially around such a strange murder case. As they walked towards the coffee shop that most of the precinct's late shift lived in when on break, or at the least sent the rookies out to get there joe from, Crast filled her in on the details that he felt she needed "You were partially right about the needle - something was injected, and we're wait for the blood work. The other part is that something was extracted. A second injury site, near the first. Significant sub-dermal bruising more consistent with suction than force, the ME reckoned. No idea what was extracted yet. If anything was."
Crast glanced up and was careful not to frown as the strange Specialist appeared again. "What can I do for you now, ma'am?"
Crast nodded. "It's enough to confirm it's murder at the least," he said simply. "Whatever else was done will hopefully come out at the autopsy." He didn't bother explaining it wasn't his guess - it would be in the report. Something was wrong here, he could feel that much in his bones. He took a quick look at the wound, wondering what was sucked out of the poor girl. Blood was the obvious answer, and that would show up on the medical report.
Watching the woman flounce away as fast as she came, Crast couldn't help but wonder what the hell that had been about. "That would be me," he said to the ME. "Abradel Crast. When you check her out, could you do me a favour? It looks like a heart attack, but there's a couple of oddities. Would you look for hypodermic marks and do a full blood work up?" He had no reason to assume the crazy woman was right, but he didn't see any reason not to follow up either.
"The carpet makes it look as though someone walked the same route as the discoloration, to the lady's current position. I haven't had time to ascertain if that's correct, and if so if it was the lady walking to where she passed or someone walking to her, nor am I certain what the source of the discoloration is." Crast glanced at the body, but what he could see certain didn't rule out heart attack. That didn't mean it was natural.
Frowning - he wasn't aware there were any offworlders in such a high position, Crast stood aside and watched to make sure the strange woman didn't touch anything. Even looking at her was uncomfotable, too much stimulation for the eyes, but she at least seemed to be following scene etiquette. Moving over to the officer, he murmured, "Officer Reilly, would you mind popping out and seeing if we can get some confirmation that the lady is here with authority, shall we?" Calling in such an odd 'Specialist' was just smart. If she screwed something up he did not want this on his head.
Abradel looked up at the pair. Clearly off planet tourists - if the strange dress didn't give it away the colours certainly did. They always looked so garish to the detective, although as he understood it they could barely tell one shade of grey from another. There loss. Following next to the path the potential suspect Crast walked to the door, making sure to block there view of the fallen woman. The dead deserved as much dignity as could be managed and gawkers were one of the last things he'd want when he was dead. Not being dead would probably be higher on the list, but... "Ladies. How can I be of help?" He kept his expression and tone neutral, on the off chance that they were witnesses and not simply some resident in the building with a truly morbid curiosity.
"Make a note of this discolouration on the carpet, please, and make a note of this...pull tab?" He looked at it for a moment, but as tempting it was to grab it, chain of evidence was a thing for a reason. Standing up with a fun click of knees he swear didn't happen when he was younger, Crast began to move around the room, carefully checking everything and only touching what he had to, and with gloves on.
Kneeling by the fallen woman, Abradel avoided touching the body. "Has the scene been processed yet?" he asked as began to look around, trying to see if there was any obvious wounds or clues. He'd need to wait for the coroner before he could do much with the body itself, so anything on the otherside would be hidden for now, but he could begin.
"Well then, let's walk and talk." Crast began to do that, continuing in with a nod at the officers securing the crime scene, slipping past and following the directions up. The smell of the food that had long since seeped into the material of the building made his neglected stomach rumble, but he suspected that the scene would quickly resolve hat issue "Give me the lead up, please. What do we know?"
Keeping the sigh entirely internal - there was no point asking why someone else hadn't been called, since it was likely everyone else was equally busy - Abradel simply said, "Understood. I'll be there as soon a I can." He finishes reaching for his hat and plants it firmly on his head, waiting in case the officer had anything else to say before heading out the door and to the scene.
Swearing under his breath, Abradel grabbed the ringing phone after only a moment of hesitation. It was tempting to go home and find a cold bottle and a warm bed, but duty called and he'd never been able to resist answering, more fool him. It had cost him friendships, relationships and more, but it was a part what he was. Holding the reciever to his ear with one hand and running his the other through his close-cropped hair he asked, "And what can I do for you at such a fine hour of the day?" |