If he does not or says not to go there I will look up Walter's residence in the city hall tax records office.
I ask the cop if he knows where Walter lives.
"I think he mostly lived out of his ship," says the officer helpfully, "I think he maintained a post office box but didn't actually own a home. He sold his mom's place about five years ago. A Korean couple live there now. Things do change. I grew up right across the road from his mom's."
Katja hangs back and lets the Kennmeister work his mojo on the cop. Katja tries to recall if she ever read a Louis L'amour novel...maybe? Or was that Zane Grey? Or Tony Hillerman? Cormac McCarthy? Okay, clearly I don't have much Western novel recall, she thinks.
Giving up on that line of thought, Katja tries to sense what her 'psychic powers,' as she calls them (she so will NOT call them 'feminine intuition', yuck), are telling her about Harv. The guy seems like a crusty old alkie, but she was moved by what she said about the Manley Hopkins poem. She'll keep a discrete eye on him, but is prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt...
Katja also notices that she feels pretty peaceful around Kenny, like even when they were on the S.S. Creepy; his presence didn't particularly leave her ' vibed up,' one way or another. Which is nice, for a change.
"What was he like growing up? Does he fit the usual profile of 'Quite. kept to himself mostly'?"
The officer appears to be less than thirty years of age.
"The Captain was older than I was," He joined the navy for a while and I didn't really know him as a kid. I have a vague recollection of him being funny when he was home. Not really a quiet sort. He liked to talk. Even when he turned to that wierd pagan stuff. We've had more than a few complaints about dead chick..."
Smith realizes he's said more than he is perhaps supposed to.
"Sorry... Some things we have to keep to ourselves. Which paper did you say you were with again?"
Katja also notices that she feels pretty peaceful around Kenny, like even when they were on the S.S. Creepy; his presence didn't particularly leave her ' vibed up,' one way or another. Which is nice, for a change.
"What was he like growing up? Does he fit the usual profile of 'Quite. kept to himself mostly'?"The officer appears to be less than thirty years of age.
"The Captain was older than I was," He joined the navy for a while and I didn't really know him as a kid. I have a vague recollection of him being funny when he was home. Not really a quiet sort. He liked to talk. Even when he turned to that wierd pagan stuff. We've had more than a few complaints about dead chick..."
Smith realizes he's said more than he is perhaps supposed to.
"Sorry... Some things we have to keep to ourselves. Which paper did you say you were with again?"
"The Sunlight Scoop. It's more of a photography-oriented paper that tries to get the over-looked details of the story."
"The Sunlight Scoop. It's more of a photography-oriented paper that tries to get the over-looked details of the story."
"Yeah, what he said." Katja holds up her camera, as proof.
"Ayuh," says Smith with a grimace as he realizes just who he's been talking to, "I think this interview is done." He smiles politely but it is clear that he really doesn't want to say anything else.
I thank the officer for his time.
[To Katja and Harvey]
"Since the crew were killed yesterday the bodies will still be in the morgue. The ones that were local won't be released to funeral homes for a few days. But the funeral homes will probably already have been contacted. I think the funeral homes would give more information than the morgue."
"Another place to look might be the high school. Any teachers Walter had are probably dead or retired by now. But if we can get a yearbook we can start looking up old classmates who are still in the area."
"What other places do you think we should look?"
In response to Kenny's last question:
"Grip, Grip, and more Grip. That Dagon-worshipping bunny is gonna crack like a piece of matzo, tomorrow. Look, I gotta get to bed, before too long. Burning the all-night oil isn't a good plan for me. If I get too cranked up...well, it's not great. If y'all want do some more Holmes-work tonight, that's cool, but I plan to be in bed by 11:30. And that's "In bed and chill," not "In bed and totally flying off my tetas on adrenalin." Ooh! I just had an idea! Why doesn't one of you get into Grip's store tomorrow, while I'm taking his picture on the beach, and snoop around? You know there's just gotta be some good dirt in there!"
In response to Kenny's last question:
"Grip, Grip, and more Grip. That Dagon-worshipping bunny is gonna crack like a piece of matzo, tomorrow. Look, I gotta get to bed, before too long. Burning the all-night oil isn't a good plan for me. If I get too cranked up...well, it's not great. If y'all want do some more Holmes-work tonight, that's cool, but I plan to be in bed by 11:30. And that's "In bed and chill," not "In bed and totally flying off my tetas on adrenalin." Ooh! I just had an idea! Why doesn't one of you get into Grip's store tomorrow, while I'm taking his picture on the beach, and snoop around? You know there's just gotta be some good dirt in there!"
"I'm pretty sure that Grip will lock the place up while he is away."
"I'm pretty sure that Grip will lock the place up while he is away."
"Yeah, probably. But probably also not so high-security that one of y'all couldn't jimmy your way inside."
"I'm pretty sure that Grip will lock the place up while he is away.""Yeah, probably. But probably also not so high-security that one of y'all couldn't jimmy your way inside."
"I'm not too keen on breaking and entering. Also, I don't know how to do it."
"Hey, I don't wanna be a wet blanket - if you guys want to go out sleuthing still, it's fine with me - I just gotta start winding down soon myself. God knows it's been a nutball day. And the forecast for tomorrow seems to be 'More Nutballs In Store.'
"Do y'all think Cape Truman was built on on an ancient Indian burial ground, btw?" Ktja makes her voice go deep: " 'They moved the headstones, but they didn't move the GRAVES!' Man, that movie used to freak my sh** out when I was a kid."
"Let's hit the hotel. I think I need some alcohol right about now."
Back at the hotel....
There is a new face behind the counter. A young woman with her nose buried in a book. She does not even look up as the trio comes in.
Kenny soon discovers that one of the many amenities not offered by their less than stellar hotel is a bar. Not that this apparently hindered some others from bringing their own bottles. The almost melodious sounds of a drunken sea chanty echo up and down the hallway on the trio's floor. The sound is only slightly muffled within the rooms.
"Sea chanteys huh? Dudes, maybe these yo-ho-ho types know something about the Bouncing Skipper! Shall we?" Katja gestures in the direction of the singing.
Back at the hotel....
There is a new face behind the counter. A young woman with her nose buried in a book. She does not even look up as the trio comes in.
Kenny soon discovers that one of the many amenities not offered by their less than stellar hotel is a bar. Not that this apparently hindered some others from bringing their own bottles. The almost melodious sounds of a drunken sea chanty echo up and down the hallway on the trio's floor. The sound is only slightly muffled within the rooms.
"Sea chanteys huh? Dudes, maybe these yo-ho-ho types know something about the Bouncing Skipper! Shall we?" Katja gestures in the direction of the singing.
"You are probably right. Do you feel like trying to join the party? If so, we better be able to bring some booze of our own."
"Sea chanteys huh? Dudes, maybe these yo-ho-ho types know something about the Bouncing Skipper! Shall we?" Katja gestures in the direction of the singing.
"You are probably right. Do you feel like trying to join the party? If so, we better be able to bring some booze of our own."
"Um, yeah, I'm a little short on booze right now. That said, I can do the 'Drunk Hot Chick' routine in my sleep. These chantey-singin' seadogs won't know what hit 'em.
"Harv, you game?"
Just as the decision is made to visit the singer, the singing stops, making it impossible to tell exactly which room it was coming from. There are a dozen different doors going down the old musty hallway, six on either side. It was one of the doors near the end of the hall but it could have been either of the two.
"Well, great. I'm not sure which room the singing came from. So, I'll just knock on both, pleading inebriation if need be. Besides, it's not like it's 3 AM. Y'all game?"
"I'm right behind you, Katja. Unless of course there is trouble, then I will be running in the opposite direction.
Katja knocks on the door in question.
There is the sound of movement within but no answer. Knocking again produces a drunken yell, "Go A-way! I don' wansh any! I had all the fisssh I need for Eash-ter!"
Something glass hits the other side of the door and breaks against the stout oak. The good news is the voice sounds very similar to the drunken voice that was singing.
"Aw, come on, sweetheart," says Katja, to the door.
What shall we do with a drunken sailor Diplomacy roll (1d20=16)
"Issh that you love," says the voice from inside, Heavy booted feet tramp towards the door, crushing glass underfoot. The chains are undone and the locks are unlocked.
The face that peers out is wrinkled and graybearded. Bright green eyes, slightly glazed from drink, peer out at Katja. The man's breath reeks and for a moment Katja is worried just breathing in his vicinity could be bad for her goal of abstinence from mind altering substances.
"You're not Raquel," the man with surprising clearness and indignation, "Who are you and what do you want?"
In the privacy of her own head, Katja bemoans the fact that she doesn't (yet) own a tazer.
"No, I'm not Raquel, I'm Katie," Katja purrs, to the non-teetotalling guy. "I met Raquel online. I have...like, a fondness for guys who are really...verbal. Raquel told me you were a guy who really knows how to talk to a lady." Katja lets her voice go all breathy on the word 'talk.' "A good story just...gets me going, somehow. Ya know?"
"Whash are you talking about?" the man asks, but he does take a moment to look a little more closely at Katja.
He stops a moment and squints at the cameras and then a strange look comes across his face.
"Grip's crazy - that's what he ish. There's a black day coming and I plan on being drunk when it getsh here."
The old man slams the door closed and immediately begins singing again, at the top of his voice.
It takes Katja a moment to realize what brought about the change in his demeanor. He had noticed the pamphlet on Dagon that she had been given earlier in the day.
Reading that just made me lose a few points of sanity.
Katja shoots her Scooper Troupers a WTF? look. She points to the "You Have a Friend in Dagon" pamphlet and whispers, "Did you see how he responded when he saw THIS?"
"Pow-wow in my room?" she adds.
"Pow-wow in my room?" she adds.
"Yeah."
"Obviously, this guy knows Grip and/or Walter. It sounds like he is expecting a visit from whoever/whatever was on board the Bouncing Skipper."
"Looks like we will have to take a look at Grip's place while he is not there."
"Harvey, do you have any breaking and entering skills that can be put to use?"
Sleep seems to want to overtake Kenny and Katja as well as they struggle to finish their conversation. :)
RL reared its all-too-ugly head. I owe the IRS more money than...um, some metaphor for a very large $$$ amount. It's weird how anal they get about little things like one not filing one's returns for several years in a row.
In Katja's room:
"All right dudes, let's talk turkey, then I'm gonna get some zzzs.
"So- to sum up- all sorts of crazy sh^t's gone down. It seems to me like we have a profusionof leads. There's the Skipper's house, there's Grip's store, there's- I don't know- breaking into the room of that nasty old codger down the hall that I almost compromised my virtue with. We got lotsa options. I'm already set to take photos of Grip tomorrow at 10. I'm gonna get up, call my daughter, eat a reasonably healthy breakfast- do some quick yoga- then take Grip's pictures. If no one has any better ideas. I'll try sneaking into Fuggly's hotel room sometime later tomorrow. And I'm willing to tag along with you guys, on any leads or ideas that y'all have."
The night passes uneventfully, except for the funny odors drifting at times from the pipes in the bathroom and the constant singing from down the hall.
Morning comes and our antagonists all awake. Fortunately, they have nowhere to go before 10, except maybe to get some breakfast and can take their time.
Katja
"Oh what a horrible dream I had last night. In it I was working full time and going to school at night and trying to sell a house in the worst possible housing market in living memory."
"Oh what a horrible dream I had last night. In it I was working full time and going to school at night and trying to sell a house in the worst possible housing market in living memory."
As Kenny makes plans for the day, a phone call from his boss informs him that the pilot that was supposed to fly them originally them has flown into town and will be joining them at some point.
Carlotta climbs out of the small plane and pats the wing affectionately,thinking Not a bad little plane for some wacked out tabloid. She then catches a cab into town and walks into the first eating establichment she finds. She sits down at a table and calls the two numbers that Mr. Rogers gave her. If there is no answer than she leaves a message; "Yo, I'm Carlotta Shelle. I was hired by Hugh Rogers to help you so tell me where I should meet you."
Pre-10 AM photoshoot, Katja relays to Kenny and Harv the interesting news from Officer Green.
Carlotta climbs out of the small plane and pats the wing affectionately,thinking Not a bad little plane for some wacked out tabloid. She then catches a cab into town and walks into the first eating establichment she finds. She sits down at a table and calls the two numbers that Mr. Rogers gave her. If there is no answer than she leaves a message; "Yo, I'm Carlotta Shelle. I was hired by Hugh Rogers to help you so tell me where I should meet you."
"Hi, Carlotta. We are at the [can't remember name of]hotel. Look for a building that should have been condemned years ago."
"Hi, Carlotta. We are at the [can't remember name of]hotel. Look for a building that should have been condemned years ago."
"Okay". *snaps cell shut and stands up from table. Walks over to the nearest waitress* " Whearabouts would I find a hotel? A dillapadated one."