A Mask and a Mood Swing
From WeaselWiki
A Mask and a Mood Swing is the first case of Chatbox Shamus. It introduces Bastion Crowley as the protagonist and is officially the beginning of the events of the series.
Outline
Bastion, down on his luck due to a lack of work coming in, is nearly out of food in his refrigerator and long overdue on rent in his small apartment. While eating "breakfast" at half past midnight, his favorite film noir is on TV, and he is suddenly given the spark of inspiration to become his own private eye. Lacking money to pay for a newspaper ad, Bastion instead connects himself to the PSE Interchange BBS and posts his ad there, on a lark, leaving a phone number and not expecting anybody to contact him.
The following morning, after approximately no sleep, Bastion is contacted by Marcus Tosh, who has a strange request. He possesses an artifact from Victorian England, an ornate brass opera mask with a magnifying lens in one eye. Tosh clarifies, it hasn't been stolen; it is currently slated to display in a new exhibit at a local museum, and he is looking to consult Bastion on security precautions. As Tosh explains it, another museum not far from his had been burglarized some days ago, and he worries that the guilty party may prove to be a repeat offender. Despite Bastion's misgivings, he follows Tosh to the museum - figuring he wouldn't have work otherwise - to look over the measures in place.
The measures, it turns out, are not very good. Bastion immediately points out several extremely obvious problems with the display cases in use - no locking mechanisms at all, no alarms, and the only "guard" on duty at the museum is the perpetually-bored receptionist, Viola. Tosh suddenly remembers he has another appointment and disappears before Bastion can get a phone number to contact him. Bastion instead takes his complaints to Viola, and begins asking about the museum, who the curator is (it's her, she's run the place for a decade despite hideous debt and a poor reputation), where the guards are (can't afford them), why the security cases aren't very secure (got them from the dumpster behind another museum), and what's the exhibit Tosh is so fired up about (Victorian Oddities, it'd put the museum in the news as "not your average hall of dusty artifacts"). Viola can't answer any questions about Tosh, as he "just showed up one week" and said he had something lined up, but she hasn't had a contact number either. She figures, given his abrasive attitude, that he only brought Bass by to give him a leg to stand on to throw more complaints her way. "He already knew these cases weren't secure?" Bass asks; it turns out it was Tosh that gave the tip that another museum was getting rid of them.
The questioning essentially over, Bastion figures his client is probably not really much of a client, so he asks Viola if she'd be interested in financing him instead of Tosh, to figure out what his stake is in this. Viola declines, citing her already piling mountain of debt from the museum. Bastion does remember Marcus saying something about the burglary at another museum, though, and seeing that Viola has been reading a newspaper, asks if he can borrow a page to see if there's anything about it in there. It takes a while to find anything; the only mention is a short entry in the Police Blotter column that doesn't name the museum or give an address, but does mention a cross-street. Though Bastion is slightly more interested in the by-line, which mentions the name of an old acquaintance of his.
By now, Bastion is slightly hungry, but there's not much he can do about it, lacking any real money. He searches the newspaper for a phone number, and borrows Viola's desk phone to call the police desk at the newspaper. He reaches Ruby Travaglia, a junior editor at the Pacific Daily News, who is only able to meet him for lunch briefly.
During said lunch at Irma's diner (where Bass orders nothing, but mooches off Ruby's potato chips), Bastion does his best to catch up on the past five years or so. He's a bit disappointed that Ruby never told him she was back in town, but Ruby - dodging the subject slightly - says she never really had the time or opportunity. Ruby finally asks him what he's been doing, and after Bass similarly dodges the subject, he finally admits he's investigating a private case and just started that morning. ("You're fucking kidding me." "You know me well enough to know I don't do that.") Unfortunately, Ruby doesn't know any more than what was printed in her column, since she is only given what the police want printed. After lunch, Ruby's pager starts going off (it's the newspaper's number - she's a bit upset about this), forcing Ruby to rush back to the office while Bass plots his next move.
This page is pretty unfinished. Weasel plans to get to it eventually. Probably.
Case Script
When opportunity comes knocking, it's hard not to answer. But sometimes, opportunity isn't there when you open the door. Sometimes it just rings the doorbell and runs off to hide in a bush. You call its name, and you're greeted not with a job offer or a sudden windfall, but with stifled snickers and giggles. As if to say, "What an idiot you were, for thinking there was anything at the door at all."
That's what's on my mind as I approach the bench. Even though there's hardly anybody here, the sheer size of this court room is enough to make me weak in the knees...if the harsh look the judge is giving me hadn't done that to me already. I'm really not dressed for a court appearance; I haven't owned fancy clothes since I was fourteen, and it's not like I could start owning them now, with how little money I'm making anymore. And it's about to get worse, I tell myself as I finish the fifty-odd steps up the aisle.
"Your Honor," I greet, unsure if I should be bowing, saluting, or kneeling. Probably none of the above. The judge, a bearded black man in what I assume to be his fifties, adjusts his thick-rimmed glasses and leans over his bench to glare closer at me.
"So, you're Bastion Crowley?" The voice sounds unnaturally friendly. Maybe he doesn't realize how scary he looks right now.
"Yes. Um...yes, Your Honor." I glance around the court room, seeing the District Attorney to my right, and a familiar-looking police officer behind him. There is nobody else present. The room is so empty that the slightest movement produces a deafening boom.
"Would you happen to be related to Aleister Crowley, by chance?" The judge tilts his head like a curious puppy. It's an image that does not suit him at all.
"No, Your Honor." I'm actually not so sure about that. I learned about him at a young age, searching the library card catalogs for my own last name. Aleister Crowley was a bizarre and scary-sounding guy, and I really hope I'm not related to him.
"You're aware of the reason for your summons, is that correct?"
"Actually, I'm not, Your Honor. I only got a phone call."
The judge sighs to himself. "I'm going to have a stern word with my clerk. She should have told you the full details, but I suppose it'll have to be done here instead. Mr. Norton?" He looks to my right, at the DA. "Could you explain the charges to Mr. Crowley, please?"
"Yes sir," he responds with a salute.
"Don't call me 'sir,' Mr. Norton."
"Right, right, sorry, Your Honor. Still getting over that old force of habit from the war." He takes a step towards me with a manila envelope containing some official-looking files. "Incidentally...Mr. Crowley, were you in the Air Force?"
"Huh? Oh, the jacket...no, I wasn't, but Dad was." He flew during Vietnam. His unit's patch is - despite more than a decade of wear and tear - still stuck on the shoulder.
The judge, tiring of the small talk, clears his throat. "Mr. Norton, the charges."
The DA apologizes, then straightens his files. "The charges discussed today will include...private investigation without a license, participation in insurance fraud, operating an unregistered business."
The judge cuts in again. "The combined legal penalty for these charges is not less than two years or not more than five years of community service, or a fine of not less than five hundred or not more than fifty thousand dollars."
"Five hundred-- Your Honor, you can't seriously think that I'm able to pay that much!" Especially not when I already live on a steady diet of nothing but bleached white rice...and salt is considered a luxury in my apartment.
"I should stress, Mr. Crowley, that you are not being tried for these charges today, but we have called you here to hear your side of the story," the judge continues. "Depending on what you tell us today, the charges might be dropped. On the other hand, there is every possibility that we will have to proceed to a proper hearing. And, well, considering you weren't able to get an attorney..."
Only because you gave me less than an hour to get here, I mutter to myself.
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing." I take in a deep breath, the kind I haven't had to take since high school. I've never considered myself a great storyteller, but today I suppose I'll have to give it my best. "If you're wanting to hear my side of things, I suppose I'd better start from the beginning. But fair warning, Your Honor, I kind of like to ramble, so you might want to take notes."
The judge nods to Mr. Norton, who leans over to the witness stand to push a button on his tape recorder.
So, the beginning. That was...what, two weeks ago? It was still October, I remember that much. I hadn't had one of my odd jobs in a while; I was still collecting that joke of an unemployment check, thirty bucks a week, barely enough to keep the power on and the phone line connected, let alone enough to get groceries. I was just running out of milk and sugar from the last "care package" I'd gotten from one of my sisters, so the day's breakfast was just going to be unadorned white rice. I call it breakfast, but it must have been something like ten o'clock already...and by that, I mean ten at night. I didn't see much point in getting up at dawn, when nobody ever returned my calls.
I'd grabbed the pot of rice from the fridge and one of the few remaining spoons in my apartment, and sought some light entertainment. Just my luck, I'd left the TV on all night - something I really needed to quit doing, if my power bill was any indication - and it was tuned to the late-night movie. I groggily shoved a spoonful of sticky rice into my mouth as I noted the familiar-looking faces on screen. The guy in the fedora was...Dick Powell, I thought. Which meant the girl in the fake-looking glasses must have been Anne Shirley. I remember what he said to her in that scene..."I'm not normally this brilliant, Miss...Grayle...but I'm improving."
The movie was "Murder, My Sweet," a favorite of mine from the early 40s. I'd always had a fascination with detective stories, which probably came from a childhood of Dragnet and Perry Mason. I must have checked out every Chandler and Hammett novel from the school library. I dressed like Humphrey Bogart's Sam Spade for at least four Halloweens. One year I even painted my face and hands grey, which didn't really help people recognize me. But the memories...that's what gave me that spark: I wanted to be a private eye. It made so much sense to my sleep-addled brain. Sure, Phillip Marlowe might not have been a rich man, but he made enough to get by, which was better than I could say for myself, as I scraped the bottom of the rice pot to fish out the little overcooked grains.
Now that I had this spark in my head, I had to figure out something I could do with it. Private investigation seemed like the only way; I wasn't cut out for police academy, in any case. Getting myself out there was as easy as getting an ad placed in the phone book, or maybe the newspaper. Except if past experience was any indication, offering myself for "services" tended to attract unsavory sorts. I mean, there was that one guy that called me for one of my odd jobs, and he.... Ugh, I can't even say it. It was just gross. No, I don't want to file a police report. I just want to forget it happened. I dropped the now-empty pot of rice in the sink and moved back to the TV. By now, it had cut to commercial (as always, by cutting the movie at the worst possible moment), and a poorly-acted black woman was extolling the virtues of a college education. Something about TV/VCR repair, auto mechanics, computer programming.
Computer programming. Well, that wouldn't have caught my attention otherwise, but it just happened that I did own a computer, and up til then, the most I'd really used it for was playing games. It wasn't the latest model by any means, but it still cost me more money than I really needed to spend, especially between jobs. I guess I've just been really bad at managing my budget. I also owned a modem; again, not the absolute latest, but it would do. I grabbed a computer magazine out of my bathroom, dragged my phone to the desk, and carefully dialed in the number to the most likely-sounding Bulletin Board Service from the list of phone numbers I had gathered. After I placed the phone on the modem cradle, I heard the telltale screeches of data transferring back and forth through the ear and mouth pieces.
The computer screen, meanwhile, greeted me with gusto.
WELCOME, GUEST - THIS IS STUDENT SERVICES AT PACIFIC SOUTHEAST COMMUNITY COLLEGE. PLEASE SELECT AN OPTION. [1] LOG IN WITH STUDENT ACCOUNT [2] ACADEMIC CALENDAR/UPCOMING EVENTS [3] CLASS SCHEDULE/TEXTBOOK LISTINGS [4] STUDENT CHATBOX [Q] LOG OUT
While I never got far enough in to the PSECC registration process to be assigned to classes, or even pay my tuition, I did manage to get a student account, which the friendly SysOp conveniently forgot to delete. Soon, I was browsing the Student Chatbox, observing the kinds of intelligent discussions in which college students tended to engage.
[DISCUSSION THREAD #4421] RE: ANYBODY SEEN CHARLIE? [POST #1] i'm looking for charlie, anyone see him? --johnny [POST #2] CHARLIE WHO? GOTTA BE AT LEAST EIGHT CHARLIES ON CAMPUS [POST #3] Charlies? the fuck are they doing stateside? should go back to their tunnels n shit [POST #4] @3, watch your language, these boards are for everyone. --SysOp [POST #5] charlie maccawitz. or mackewicz. or however the hell you spell it, i think it's polish. --johnny [POST #6] I'm still around, don't you know where my dorm room is? -C.M. [POST #7] dude i don't even know where the dorms are, i live off campus remember? --johnny [POST #8] oh quit lying i know u were in the girls dorms last week [POST #9] o.k. who in fuck is #8, i'm gonna figure out where the dorms are so i can kick your ass. --johnny [POST #10] try me. #8
....This...wasn't a promising start, but at least it was free, for the most part.
But right below where I'd expected to see the rest of the police blotter, I saw a notice. "The Police Blotter is curated entirely from press releases issued by the Pacific Southeast Police Department. It is edited for purposes of brevity by Antonia Travaglia of the Pacific Daily News."
Travaglia? Geez, I hadn't heard her name since high school. I checked my watch - it was nearly midnight. If I was going to make contact, I'd need to wait for regular operating hours.
[POST #3] Come on man, Donkey Kong? We all played that last year. What else is new? [POST #4] You played Donkey Kong, but did you play....Donkey Kong Jr.? [POST #5] What's that? Just Donkey Kong but easier? I don't support the brutalization of baby gorillas. [POST #6] @5 umm it's a video game, not a real gorilla [POST #7] @3 But I'm telling you this stuff would be huge if they'd just bring it to the States! [POST #8] @7 well good luck with that, atari ruined all the chance of that happening, do you realize how much shelf space they already take up? there's no way nintendo can get sears to give them any of that, especially when they can barely give all that shit away to begin with. [POST #9] @8, please watch your language - this bulletin board is for everybody! --SysOp
Legacy Script
- ########################
- ## CASE 1 BEGINS HERE ##
- ########################
label Case1Start:
scene bg Tandy
with dissolve
play sound "sound/typing.mp3"
pc "August 15th, 1984. This is the city: the Pacific Southeast.{w} It's a city full of life. Opportunity. Entertainment.{w} Open one of life's doors here, and it's open to you for the rest of your life.{w} Or at least, that's what I was always told."
scene bg CityOverview1
with fade
"In all the time I've lived in this part of the state, I've never figured out {a=PSERant}why they call it the Pacific Southeast{/a}.{nw}"
"In all the time I've lived in this part of the state, I've never figured out {a=PSERant}why they call it the Pacific Southeast{/a}. {fast}{vspace=30}{size=12}(Note: Click on hyperlinked text to get more information on a topic!){/size}"
jump PSERantAfter
label PSERant:
"The Pacific part is the only true thing about it. We're about half a day's drive from the coast." "It's the Southeast part that confuses me." "If you were to take it literally, you could interpret it to mean that the place is somewhere in Asia, likely Japan or even Australia." "But no. We're on the east end of the Pacific - the American side." "You can't really think of it as an indicator of where you're at in the state, either, because this city just happens to be right dead center, of equal distance from every state boundary." "And yet, when people talk about this city, they only ever seem to call it the Pacific Southeast...and I still have no idea why." "Some say the city actually had a name once, that nobody remembers." return
label PSERantAfter:
"It's one of those things that can really keep a guy awake at night."
show bg BedroomInteriorFullNight at right
with dissolve
"Especially a night like this."
"I've been lying wide awake on this old mattress for what feels like hours."
"But as far as why I'm not asleep yet, I'm more willing to blame my lack of gainful employment."
"Having nothing worth waking up for in the mornings, I find myself sleeping in most days. Sometimes until past noon."
"The sun set an hour ago. I've been trying to sleep at a decent hour, but it's just not working right now."
play sound "sound/ArtieCrash.mp3"
"A dull crunching sound makes its way up through my second-floor apartment."
"I don't bother getting up to check what it is. This is probably the twentieth time I've heard it since moving in here."
"Not that I've been counting."
"A couple of other noises make themselves known. A car door being the most obvious."
"I'm pretty confident that's the sound of Artie doing {a=ArtieParking}his usual spiteful parking{/a}."
jump ArtieParkingAfter
label ArtieParking:
"Artie - actually, his name's Arthur - is the owner of the building I live in. He's generally a nice guy. He'll sympathize with you if you're behind on your rent." "Which, in my case, is all the time." "Artie likes to park aggressively. He doesn't just pull in gently; he tries to nudge the delivery truck that's in his personal parking spot." "I don't know who owns the delivery truck. It never leaves the curb in front of my building." "I'm almost positive that it was stolen and then abandoned there by some kid doing a gang initiation rite." "Or it's a territorial claim. I can't remember which gang our block is supposed to be sworn under this week." "Really, though, the truck is a complete mystery." "There's no identification in it, the VIN tags and license plates are gone, and there are no personal effects or even a manual in the glove box." "I went over that truck with a fine-toothed comb (with one noted exception), and there's no clue whatsoever as to where it came from. It just showed up one night, out of nowhere." "But wait, I hear you ask. How did you get into it, if you don't own it?" "Well, it's not like it's a big damn secret. Since I've been unemployed for the last year or so, I've taken up a few...shall we say, less-than-moral hobbies...like lockpicking." "Most lockpicking guides only tend to assume you're working on a common household doorknob, and not the passenger side door to a U-Haul truck." "So it took me a while to learn how to compensate for the differences in the way the locks work." "Yeah, I hear you yawning out there. Back on topic then..." "Artie's parking space is the one that's absolutely the closest to the front entrance of the building." "Up until recently - that is, before this truck got left here - the UPS and FedEx drivers would park in the manager's space, because it'd cut down on walking." "It ought to surprise nobody that Artie filed a complaint with the delivery drivers. He had the right to, really, since the space is marked and everything." "Then, for reasons unknown, this unmarked, unidentified cube van appears." "Maybe fate sent him a message. A message that says, \"You don't deserve to park here.\"" "But I disagree. Artie's a pretty swell guy." "Heh...I must have been rambling for a really long time. I forgot what I was talking about." return
label ArtieParkingAfter:
"My name's Bastion Crowley."
"That's \"Bastion\" as in \"Sebastian\" - Lord knows why it's spelled this way."
"My parents, who probably grabbed my name out of the dictionary, tell me that I'm a distant relative of {a=AleisterRant}Aleister Crowley{/a}."
jump AleisterRantAfter
label AleisterRant:
"Aleister Crowley was a strange person. I've heard he's a famed author, magician, and at some point, a spy." "Honestly, I don't believe my parents about being related to him." "I refuse to acknowledge that I'm related to anybody famous." "Well, that, and upon actually doing my research on Aleister, he sounds like kind of a creepy guy." "Though I suppose the \"spy\" part might have carried over." "Somehow." "Even though I'm most likely not a distant nephew of his." return
label AleisterRantAfter:
"I'm kind of in a financial slump at the moment."
"See, I've been without a job for almost a year."
"Granted, odd jobs have kind of kept me afloat, but the only reason I have a roof over my head right now is because of my landlord."
"I almost want to attempt to sleep again, but I'm kept awake by all the thoughts running through my mind. Thoughts like, \"what the hell am I going to do today?\""
show bg BedroomInteriorFullNight:
xpos -665.0 ypos 0 xanchor 0 yanchor 0
linear 10.0 xpos 0 ypos 0
"After a bit, I become aware of another sound in my bedroom. It's familiar, but I don't recall having heard it yet today."
"Something tinny, high-pitched, and sounding of film grain."
"I roll over in my bed to figure out its source."
"Huh, funny, I don't remember leaving the TV on."
"What's on tonight, I wonder..."
"...\"{a=movie1background}Murder, My Sweet{/a}.\""
jump movie1after
label movie1background:
"It's a movie from the 1940's starring Dick Powell as my favorite literary detective, Philip Marlowe." "The book it was based on was actually called \"Farewell, My Lovely,\" but Dick Powell had been working mainly on musicals beforehand, and they changed the title to sound less like one, in case people went in expecting music but getting film noir instead." "Remember, the \"moral\" requirements for movies were a lot more strict back then." "Ever heard of the Hayes Code? I'm kind of glad we don't have that any more." return
label movie1after:
"I didn't expect to see a movie this obscure on network television, but then again, it {i}is{/i} past 8 PM..."
"Philip Marlowe is in the studio apartment of some rich mogul. Moose Malloy is with him."
"They're having some discussion, and it doesn't appear it's going amicably."
"Eventually, someone says something that Marlowe doesn't like, and he punches them."
"Malloy nearly strangles him to death. Then he takes a pistol whip to the face, and he's down for the count."
"\"That big hole opened up at my feet...right on schedule.\""
"...I forgot how much I love this movie. I haven't seen it since high school."
"That'd be...what, six or seven years ago?"
"Man. It's hard to think about how much time I've spent in the \"real world\" since then. Can't believe it's been this long already."
"But then, a hidden switch flicks over, somewhere in the back of my mind."
"The combination of high school nostalgia and the on-screen problem sleuthing of Mr. Marlowe inspires a thought..."
"...I should take up private investigation myself."
"It's so obvious that I have no idea why I didn't think of it sooner."
"I spent so much time in high school reading the old classics...Raymond Chandler, Dashiell Hammett, Arthur Conan Doyle..."
"It almost feels like I've already got the job experience, really."
"How would I go about getting myself known, though? I can't just walk around town, wearing a sandwich board, yelling \"P.I. for hire!\""
"It's no use putting a want ad in the newspaper, either. Attracts the wrong kind of people..."
"Used to watch a lot of {i}The Rockford Files{/i} back in the day. I ought to know."
"Hold on - it's the 1980's, paper is obsolete!"
"I can't remember who it was that was going on about the greatness that is a paperless office, but somehow they convinced me to buy a computer and a modem..."
scene bg Tandy
with dissolve
"Heh - 2400 baud. Top of the line. Or at least, that's what the guy at the Radio Shack told me..."
"I'm not really sure where I got the idea that I could afford this thing, but I figure the sort of skill set I'd learn from using it would only help me in the future."
"I've yet to see that actually happen, now that I think of it...but you don't really know until you try, right?"
"It had better, though, because I paid $500 for this damn thing."
"I type in the phone number for a {a=DefineBBS}BBS{/a} that's being run out of the university on the other end of town."
jump DefineBBSAfter
label DefineBBS:
"BBS stands for Bulletin Board Service. It's a neat new thing that some military researchers came up with a few years back."
"Basically, you put your home phone on this cradle-looking thing called a modem - I'm told that's short for {i}modulator-demodulator{/i} - and the computer uses your phone to talk to other computers."
"I thought that sounded like a bunch of sci-fi hooey, like out of {i}Star Wars{/i} or something. Why would computers be able to talk to each other if they weren't actually able to talk?"
"The guy at the Radio Shack taught me otherwise. Thanks to this overpriced piece of...*ahem*...I'm able to connect my computer to the network at the college downtown."
return
label DefineBBSAfter:
"Before I hit Enter, I take my phone from its base and put it on the modem cradle."
play sound "sound/ModemDial.wav"
"The phone dials, connects, and begins issuing forth a squealing noise. Any normal person would find it irritating, but I prefer this over a busy signal any day."
"The modem finally ceases its warbling and begins blinking its little lights. I'm in."
"\"Welcome To The Chatbox.\" Sounds too informal for my tastes, but that's all that I can find on here."
"Let's see here. University Business? No, I'm not a student...Off-Topic? Maybe as a last resort..."
"Help Wanted? ...No, I'm helping, not looking for help."
"People For Hire? Sounds like a likely candidate to me."
"I start pecking away at the keyboard of the Tandy, the clicking noise occupying most of the room."
play sound "sound/typing.mp3"
pc "POST #1771 - SUBJECT: PRIVATE EYE FOR HIRE{w}\nI am a local sleuth looking to flex my investigative muscle.{w} Bring me a challenge!{w} Prices negotiable.{w} Call (***) ***-**** for more information.{w} \n-Crowley"
"There. That's probably good enough to get the point across."
"As I mentally pat myself on the back, I refresh the message listing to find that there are already a number of replies."
pc "What? What kind of private eye posts a want ad on a university BBS? -CQ"
pc "One without enough money to put one in a newspaper, evidently! -MM"
pc "Hey, think you could figure out where my Twinkies keep disappearing to? -DT"
pc "PI's are old hat! The FBI dramas are where it at! -PA"
pc "Leave it to the cops, man, that's what we're paying taxes for. -Asteroids{w}\nP.S. I couldn't think of a clever name, so I just stole one from my favorite arcade machine."
pc "@Asteroids, why not just use your initials like the rest of us? -MM"
pc "Because the cops might find me, dude, they read these posts! They know who you are! -Asteroids"
pc "Then why are you posting on a BBS? They can trace your phone lines! -MM"
pc "AAAAAAUGH! Get me off of here! -Asteroids \n(EOF)"
"The public obviously doesn't get it. Maybe the digital age isn't ready for a sleuth."
show bg BedroomInteriorFullNight at right
with dissolve
"On second thought, that wasn't exactly the wisest thing to do to a BBS I've only visited a couple of times."
"I'd imagine there's some kind of etiquette guide for online behavior, and I've just broken it."
"I disconnect from the BBS, my modem making the faintest electronic click as it hangs up."
play sound "sound/phonering.mp3"
"Just as I'm beginning to feel guilty about dropping an advertisement on some unsuspecting message board, my phone rings."
"Weird. I didn't think anyone would respond."
"I consider answering the phone in the most hard-boiled way possible, but think better of it...in case it's my mom, or something."
stop sound #something for later: get the "trail" of the phone bell and play it here with a pickup sound
show Phone at left
with dissolve
b "Crowley's office, Bastion speaking."
"That's about the best I can think of on short notice; rather, before the phone stops ringing."
"Voice on Phone" "{i}Mr. Crowley, I caught word that you were offering your investigative services.{/i}"
"Voice on Phone" "{i}How soon will you be available?{/i}"
"It's the voice of a man, not quite middle-aged but not exactly young either. Probably one of those rich, cultured types."
b "I'm available pretty much all the time. I don't have any prior obligations."
"I give him the street address of my apartment building and some driving directions, making sure to warn him that the only parking lot nearby costs money."
"Voice on Phone" "{i}I can be there in fifteen minutes.{/i}"
"That soon, huh? No concept of a work day or something? It's 9:00 on a Tuesday evening. I would think most sane people - i.e. people who work - would be in bed by now."
b "Alright then. What's your name, for the record?"
"Voice on Phone" "{i}Put me down as Mr. Tosh. I'll explain the case when I get there.{/i}"
b "Very well then, Mr. Tosh. I guess I'll see you soon then."
"...."
"...No response. Guess he hung up."
hide Phone
with easeoutbottom
# hangup sound
"But still, I'm pretty sure this guy's legit. Even though Tosh reminds me of apples, for some reason."
"...I hope this guy doesn't turn out to be a {i}real{/i} fruit."
show bg BedroomInteriorFullNight at left
with dissolve
"I slap myself for coming up with such a horrible pun and sit in front of the TV, where I spend the next 10 minutes watching my movie again."
"I must have missed most of it while I was tapping away at the BBS, but we're getting to the good part."
"Philip Marlowe and his lady friend are searching through Mr. Marriott's beach house."
"The lights are off. The only thing I can see, apart from Marlowe's flashlight, is the moon coming through the window."
"That lighting is what really makes a film noir, to me."
"The way light bounces off nearby surfaces is much more noticeable without those pesky colors getting in the way. You can see patterns from closed window blinds, shadows of passing seagulls, perhaps even reflections from metallic objects like wristwatches."
"Especially when someone draws a particularly shiny gun."
play sound "sound/knock2.wav"
"There's a knock at the door. I guess it must be either the landlord, or Mr. Tosh."
"It could be both, actually."
"I take stock of myself. I'm still wearing my clothes from yesterday - jeans and a slightly dirty white T-shirt."
scene bg BastionsOffice
with dissolve
"Now satisfied that my shirt doesn't have any really noticeable sweat or mustard stains, I kill the TV, grab a notebook and something to write with, and have a seat behind the desk."
b "C'mon in."
play sound "sound/door2.wav"
show placeholder normal at center
with dissolve
"The front door opens just enough to admit a guy not too much older than me. He's wearing a ratty overcoat and smells of cheap tobacco."
"Great. Looks like every guy at the pinball parlor."
"His face is covered in...I hesitate to call it a five-o'clock shadow. Maybe more like...the half-past-ten shadow."
"Beard naming conventions always confused the hell out of me."
"You know the beard the main character starts growing when his wife dies? That kind of beard."
b "Have a seat. I'm guessing you're Mr. Tosh."
"He has a certain air about him. He might look like a vagrant, but this guy has class, or at least acts like he does. He isn't slouching or dragging his feet at all, and his hands are clasped firmly behind his back."
show placeholder normal at seatedcenter
with move
m "Yes, Marcus Tosh is my name. You are Crowley, right?"
b "Yeah. Bastion Crowley."
"He grabs my hand firmly and shakes it just once."
m "Tell me, have you ever located stolen property before, Mr. Crowley?"
b "In a manner of speaking."
"I was being a bit economical with the truth here. I had tracked down stolen property before, but said property was mine to begin with, and the thief was my little sister."
"She never did admit to taking my Lawn Darts."
m "Good, good, the fact that you have experience in matters like these simplifies things."
b "Why exactly do you ask, Mr. Tosh? Did something of yours get stolen?"
m "Er...not yet."
b "Yet? Curious choice of words. You think it's going to be stolen in the future? Did you receive a threat letter, or something?"
m "I suppose I should explain...I've got a priceless artifact from Victorian England, a particularly ornate brass opera mask. Given the, er, prestigious value of the mask, I imagine that it's only a matter of time before it is targeted."
menu:
m "I suppose I should explain...I've got a priceless artifact from Victorian England, a particularly ornate brass opera mask. Given the, er, prestigious value of the mask, I imagine that it's only a matter of time before it is targeted.{fast}"
"So what the hell am I supposed to do?":
b "So what is it you expect me to do? You should probably know, Mr. Tosh, I'm not a security guard. My services tend to be used after a theft, not before."
m "Well, you did say you've worked on stolen property cases before, so I figured you might have some insight into how to protect from a potential theft."
b "Fair enough, I suppose, but where do we start?"
jump ToshQuestionAfter
"What's so special about this thing, anyway?":
b "How priceless are we talking?"
m "There's really only one definition for the word, Mr. Crowley."
b "One man's treasure is another man's trash. Have you had the thing appraised?"
m "I don't see the point; appraisers always under-value things."
b "Are we talking monetary value, or sentimental?"
"He dodges the question slightly."
jump ToshQuestionAfter
"Where is it now, if it hasn't been stolen yet?":
b "Do you have the mask with you now?"
m "Oh, heavens, no. I wouldn't carry a high-profile artifact like that just anywhere, you see."
b "Fragile, or just heavy?"
m "A little of both."
b "If you don't have it on you, where did you leave it? Some place secure, I'd hope?"
jump ToshQuestionAfter
label ToshQuestionAfter:
m "I'd like to take you to see the mask right now, if you've got the time."
b "Time's one thing I've got in spades, Mr. Tosh."
m "I've put it on display at the Pacific Southeastern Museum of History, in their Victorian Oddities exhibit. Maybe you could offer some advice."
"{i}That{/i} museum? Out of...hundreds in this area? {w}I exaggerate a bit, but this county has, at last count, no fewer than 18 operational museums."
"Most of them are specialist sites that only deal in artifacts from certain regions and time periods."
"Then there's the really odd ones, like Wallace Wade's Mayonnaise Museum, but I digress."
"Word is, PSMH is nothing more than a front owned by a local mobster, who's running a back-room racket for stolen and counterfeit Chuck E. Cheese tokens. The museum's reputation among Pacific Southeastern academia has been far from positive, as a result."
b "Why the PSMH? Aren't there others around with better reputations?"
m "I have an understanding with their curator."
b "What kind of understanding?"
m "The museum closes in a half hour; we'd best get going soon."
"He just ignores my question and motions toward the door. Doesn't help much to shake the allegations of mob connections."
"Granted, I only heard of said mob connections from the head waitress at the diner by the community college."
"I slightly suspect she might be a conspiracy nut, but that's neither here nor there."
"I grab the bomber jacket from my chair, and the notepad and pencil from my desk, then follow Marcus outside."
hide placeholder
with dissolve
scene bg CityParkingLot
with dissolve
"He brings me across the street to the public parking lot, the one that costs a dollar to get in, and another dollar to get out...and that's it."
"His car's a red AMC Pacer, looking, in a word, pretty terrible. The front bumper is dented in a few places, and some blue markings on the hood indicate a close encounter with a roadside mail box."
"That's not to mention the scuff marks on the tires and a dent in the driver's side door, oddly reminiscent of what happened to a fellow resident's Ford truck a week ago."
"From the condition of Marcus's car, I have a hard time believing that he could possibly own any sort of \"artifact\" - let alone a \"priceless\" one. But..."
"...well, maybe he's the type who cares more about the significance of the item than any sort of monetary value."
"Or maybe he's just some nerd."
"Then again, it's not like those two things are mutually exclusive."
scene bg PSMHMuseumExterior
with dissolve
"About a five minute drive from my place is the Pacific Southeastern Museum of History...which they like to abbreviate as PSMH on the sign."
"Since learning of the building's existence as a teenager, I'd taken to pronouncing it \"pissmuh.\""
"Pondering that thought for a moment, I can't help but think that \"pissmuh\" is the only word that could really describe the museum."
scene bg PSMHMuseum
with dissolve
"It's kept in good enough shape, considering the circumstances, but it's not exactly gleaming."
"I have a hard time believing the rumors; this place doesn't look like it's running under a mobster's budget."
"It's just not clean enough."
"You might know the kind of clean - the kind where you think something bad happened here because the place is completely spotless."
"The kind of clean where, when you get home to your kids, you find that the kitchen is shining so brightly that you hear that cartoon \"ding\" noise...{w}because the kids want to keep you from discovering the fresh scorch marks on the carpet from where little Timmy decided to play with matches."
"This isn't that kind of clean, and believe me, I speak from experience."
"The white plaster walls have the faintest tint of brown creeping up from the hardwood floor, which is pretty old, from the look of it. Someone really needs to take a hammer and pound in some of these nails, too."
"And then there's the art exhibits themselves - many of them need a serious dusting. That is, the ones that are actually in their cases. Most of the display cases are completely empty, with only the descriptive plaques remaining."
"The pieces inside either got snatched (likely, considering the museum didn't seem to have a security system) or put in storage (also likely, for the same reason)."
"No mobster would put money into a place like this."
scene bg PSMHMuseumExhibit
with dissolve
play sound "sound/footsteps-museum.mp3"
"Tosh leads me up the stairs in the main hall to the museum's only other floor."
"He steps over some small wooden shipping crates and empty cardboard boxes, finally moving aside a cordon that would be blocking the path into the museum's north wing."
"There aren't any signs outside this room yet, but it's obvious that there will be shortly. It's undergoing some renovation."
"In one corner is a large bunch of pedestals with cubic glass covers to fit over the top. They're all empty."
"There's a pile of thin, foot-long cardboard boxes next to the display cases. Fluorescent light bulbs, I'd assume."
"On the opposite side of the small-ish room, though, is a portion of the Victorian Oddities exhibit."
"There isn't a lot of polish to it, honestly, but that's probably because it's a work in progress."
"Or that the budget really is that low around here."
"I wander over to the display cases that are already in place. There's nothing in most of them yet; Tosh assures me that their respective artifacts are in storage."
"There are, however, printed and laminated signs attached to each pedestal, stating the name, date, and donor for each one."
"Some of them really kind of boggle the mind. Not just for how weird they are - that seems to be the entire point, after all - but for how wildly unverifiable they seem to be."
"{b}BRASS KNUCKLE GUN{/b} {i}(c.1890){/i} -- This set of brass knuckles also bears a knife blade with an .11 caliber percussion cap pistol inside. {i}(replica, donated by Marder Muller){/i}"
"{b}HOLMES' DEERSTALKER{/b} {i}(c.1885){/i} -- The deerstalker cap famously owned and worn by Sherlock Holmes. {i}(replica, donated by Herschel Upton){/i}"
"{b}SNAKESKIN PROPHYLACTIC{/b} {i}(c.1855){/i} -- Early contraceptive device invented in the American West. Purportedly used by Buffalo Bill Cody. {i}(authentic, donated by Andreas Andersen){/i}"
"Admittedly, I've suspected the museum of being shady for a while now, but these items strike me as being just random crap that someone threw together and made up."
"Never mind that Buffalo Bill lived in the Wild West, not Victorian England."
"I almost get to wondering if these placards are just placeholders."
"The last item, though, is the one Tosh wants me to look at. It's actually in its case, surprisingly."
"{b}OPERA MASK{/b} {i}(c.1875){/i} -- This brass domino mask has a magnifying lens in its left eye, enabling it to serve as both a set of opera glasses and a masquerade mask for parties. {i}(authentic, donated by Marcus Tosh){/i}"
"It's quite heavy-looking, probably solid brass all the way through, from what I can tell through the display case."
"It also appears to have been recently polished, judging from the dull sheen and the conspicuous lack of dust."
"The bit about it being used for opera glasses has me peering closer at the eye holes in the domino mask shape. One of them has a convex lens set in it. The other seems empty, perhaps by design, since it's multi-functional."
"The mask itself is attached to a rod, about 12 inches in length. I can imagine a Victorian English party-goer using this rod to hold the mask to their face without their arm getting tired."
"I ask Tosh again why he thinks this item in particular might be targeted by thieves."
"He assures me it's just a gut feeling."
"Really? Since when do people hire private detectives based on gut feelings about things that haven't happened yet?"
"...Since when do people hire private detectives...over a BBS?"
"That internal argument doesn't last terribly long."
show placeholder normal at center
with dissolve
b "I think I've seen enough here. What was it you needed me to do, again?"
m "Nothing, yet. I'm showing you the item in case it gets stolen, in which case I would need your help."
b "So you called me, presumably to hire me, even though you don't actually have any work for me?"
"It's a feeling I know all too well; I got similar treatment from a temp agency, once..."
m "Have you taken notes on the mask? It's quite interesting."
b "I'm more concerned with the state of the display case. Did you notice there's no lock on it?"
"He looks at his watch -- from the bright red color of its plastic-rubber wrist strap, something tells me it probably has Mickey Mouse on the face -- and looks shocked at what time it is."
m "The museum's about to close; we'd both best be on our way. Do you need a ride back, or can you make it from here?"
b "I can make it, but--"
show placeholder normal at left
with move
m "I'll be in touch!"
show placeholder normal at offscreenleft
with move
"He hurries down the stairs, ignoring the receptionist completely (which seems to offend her)."
hide placeholder
"I'm fuming a bit as I realize that he probably used that ages-old Looney Tunes trick to get out of giving me his phone number. Damn it. What am I going to do if he calls while I'm out?"
scene bg PSMHMuseum
with dissolve
"On my way out of the building, I stop at the museum's front desk.{w}"
show placeholder normal at seatedcenter
with dissolve
extend " The receptionist is a batty old lady who's trying too hard to look modern. Her hair is in bad need of some coloration, but she's got it done up in pigtails that wouldn't look out of place at Woodstock."
b "Excuse me."
v "That Marcus...what a screwup."
b "Sorry?"
v "He just ran out and didn't give you any contact information, didn't he?"
b "That's right...how can I get in touch with him?"
v "It's rare that you can actually get in contact with Marcus Tosh. He's a restless one, never seems to stay put long enough for anyone to know he's around."
b "Alright. Uh...if you see him, tell him to call me."
v "Can I get your name and number?"
b "Sure, hang on."
"I pull a page out of my pocket notebook and scrawl my name and phone number on it."
v "Thank you. If Mr. Tosh comes by again, I'll have him contact you."
b "Do you have a business card for the museum?"
v "Yes, here you go."
hide placeholder
with dissolve
"\"Viola Freidrichs, Pacific Southeast Museum of History, Front Desk Receptionist and Curator.\""
scene bg PSMHMuseumExterior
with dissolve
"Must be how she knows Marcus, then. I didn't expect this to be a mom-and-pop operation, but they must have bought the building cheaply or something."
"Given the rumors...maybe that's what happened to it."
"Oh well. If nothing else, I can leave Marcus a message with Viola, in case he never calls me."
scene bg CityStreetNewsstand
with dissolve
"I'm not entirely sure if I have any leads that I can launch a reasonable investigation from, so I go for a bit of a walk, taking the scenic route back home."
"Passing by my favorite newsstand, I notice the new Pacific Southeast Daily News is already on the stands, despite it being just about 11 PM."
"I guess they like being early."
"I toss the cashier a quarter and take one of the papers. I can almost still feel the warmth from the presses."
play sound "sound/pageturn.wav"
show Newspaper at center
with easeinbottom
"Today's - tonight's, I mean - headline is about the continuing economic stagnation. They're throwing around a lot of terms that you'd have to be a Wall Street savant to understand."
"Except for \"Reaganomics.\" What the hell does that even mean?"
play sound "sound/pageturn.wav"
"I flip through the depressing front page and meaningless sports pages and find the \"Life Today\" section."
"Outside of a few human interest pieces on pet owners who teach their pets to dance, there isn't much of note today."
"The local theater is hosting an Agatha Christie-themed dinner show. Might be interesting, if I can afford the ticket."
"Then, tucked away in the corner of the page, is the one section I find myself reading every day - the police blotter."
"Something always overjoys me when I see our boys-in-blue doing their part to keep the Pacific Southeast safe...and I swear, I'm not being sarcastic."
"The blotter section offers no real surprises. The city doesn't really have much of a crime rate, from what I've heard."
"From what I see here, it must be a slow news day, even in spite of that."
"\"Two police cruisers responded to reports of an armed robber at the cafe, Java the Hutt. The suspect was merely reaching for his wallet, accidentally revealing a concealed weapon for which he displayed a valid permit.\""
"\"A police detective in an unmarked car reported a hubcap had been stolen from his vehicle.\""
"I really wonder why they published this one; wouldn't it make the unmarked car that much more obvious? {w}Sigh. Moving on."
"\"Police dispatch reported a 911 caller asking about a burglar named Thomas Buttpirate.\""
"\"A picketing group protesting the PSEPD's use of nightsticks was subdued yesterday afternoon. Some officers reported that they needed to use nightsticks to subdue the unruly crowd. 25 protesters were detained; no arrests were made.\""
"Okay, yeah. This wasn't what I meant when I said I liked seeing the police keeping the city safe."
"...wait. Thomas Buttpirate? Seriously? I end up re-reading that particular line just to make sure I'm not imagining it.{w} There it is, clear as day. I feel sorry for humanity."
"I skim over the rest of the blotter until something relevant jumps out at me like a psycho jumps into an occupied shower stall."
"\"Local authorities report that the Pacific Art Museum of Art at the Pacific Southeast Community College was burglarized two days ago. {w}Nothing of value was reported missing, but one unmarked display case was damaged.\""
play sound "sound/pageturn.wav"
hide Newspaper
with easeoutbottom
"Hm. Maybe this is why Tosh is so sure that his opera mask is going to get stolen."
"I don't exactly have a special pass, so I can't just go straight to the art museum and check them out this late at night."
scene bg ApartmentExterior
with dissolve
"I decide that I had probably better go back home and sleep on it."
"Even though I just woke up about three hours ago."
"Damn it all."
scene bg Black
with dissolve
"...."
show bg BedroomInteriorFull at right
with fade
play sound "sound/phonering.mp3"
"Just as I'm getting into my dream of making out with Madonna, my phone jolts me awake."
"I quickly glance at my alarm clock. 7 AM."
"I instinctively reach for the phone on my bedside table, before I realize that I'd moved it to my desk in the front room, because it looks more detective-like to answer my phone at the desk."
"Silently cursing my stupid notions of being a \"real\" detective, I tumble out of my bed and run for the phone, answering it on the fifth ring."
stop sound
scene bg BastionsOffice
with dissolve
show Phone at left
with easeinbottom
b "Crowley's office."
"I barely manage to speak distinctly."
v "{i}Is this...uh...Basteeon...Crawlay?{/i}"
"It's the voice of a middle-aged woman, obviously struggling to read something off a piece of paper. I'm slightly irked by her mispronouncing my name."
"It's not {i}that{/i} hard to read my handwriting, dammit."
b "This is Bastion Crowley, yes."
v "{i}It's Viola with the Pacific Southeast Museum of History. Er, something's come up, is there a chance you can come by as soon as you're able?{/i}"
"Must be that front desk clerk from last night. I tell her I can be there in an hour or two."
hide Phone
with easeoutbottom
extend " She confirms and hangs up before I can tell her that I'll want to get breakfast first."
"I take stock of myself. Yeah, I'm still wearing the same clothes as yesterday."
"At least I had the good sense not to sleep in my flight jacket."
"That jacket's important to me. It's one of the only mementos I have of {a=JacketRant}my father{/a}."
jump JacketRantAfter
label JacketRant:
"Dad was what I'd call a crazy person. {w}Not because he was actually mentally ill, mind you."
"Dad flew for the United States Air Force during Vietnam. He flew with the Wild Weasels, a flight squadron whose specialty was drawing fire from surface-to-air missile launchers to \"ferret out\" their locations."
"Not a single one of them died in the line of duty...except for Dad."
"He was shot during a Viet Cong sneak attack on the city where he was taking his leave. Officially speaking, he didn't die in the line of duty, but that must just be for keeping up appearances."
"It was an unfortunate thing that happened to 1st Lt. Richard Crowley, they'd told Mom, but there was nothing they could do for him."
"Mom was surprisingly okay with Dad's death. I remember getting pissed off at her many years later when she told me that she never grieved for him."
"She said that, from the beginning, she knew what Dad had gotten himself into, and that enough people died over there that Dad was just one of the many."
"But if you ask me, Mom's justification was weaker than a stick of balsa wood. I don't think I ever forgave her for that."
"She likes to pretend we never had that particular argument. That's probably a good reason why I haven't spoken to her since I moved out."
"When I turned 18, Mom showed me that she got Dad's flight jacket at the funeral, and that she wanted me to have it."
"I've worn it ever since."
"...Jesus Christ, that got sappy."
"If I start rambling like that again, I want you to slap me, alright?"
"Good."
return
label JacketRantAfter:
"After I take my sweet time getting ready to go, grabbing a shower and putting on a shirt that's actually clean for once, I decide that my breakfast is going to wait until after I've seen what's up at PSMH."
scene bg PSMHMuseumExterior
with fade
"The museum doesn't appear any different from the outside, despite the difference in the time of day."
"Somehow I only just realize how old this building is. Looks like it could be at least a hundred years old."
"So the building could very well be an exhibit in itself."
scene bg PSMHMuseum
with dissolve
play sound "sound/door2.wav"
show placeholder normal at center
with dissolve
"As I step inside, Viola the receptionist waves me over to the counter and starts whispering to me."
"I just notice her eyebrows, raised in a worried, frightened expression. They're so solid and angular, that if you detached and threw them, they would more than likely return like a boomerang."
v "Don't say this too loudly, but I need you to go look in the Victorian Oddities area upstairs. There's been a break-in."
b "A break-in?"
"I follow suit and whisper back to her."
v "What?"
b "There was a break-in?"
v "Speak up, son."
b "{i}You said there was a break-in?{/i}"
v "Uh, one more time? I can't hear you."
b "{b}You told me there was a break-in over the phone!{/b}"
v "{i}Sshhhh!{/i} Not so loud!"
"I should have seen that one coming."
v "Yes, there's been a break-in, I haven't been able to get away from the desk long enough to check it out. Mr. Tosh said to call you if something happened."
"Good to know that I'm such a trusted individual around here."
b "Alright. I'll go have a look. Have you heard from Mr. Tosh since yesterday?"
v "No, he hasn't left any messages."
hide placeholder
with dissolve
"I thank her with a quick mock-salute and make my way back to the north wing."
play sound "sound/footsteps-museum.mp3"
scene bg PSMHMuseumExhibit
with dissolve
"The cordon is back in place, so I pull it aside again so I don't trip over it on the way in."
"At first I don't notice anything really out of place."
"I wonder how Viola was able to tell there had been a break-in."
"It almost seems too obvious, but the first thing I check is the case for Tosh's opera mask."
"...Yep. It's gone."
"The glass case is still in place on the pedestal. Really, you wouldn't need to break it; there isn't even a lock on it."
"I try not to touch the case with my fingers as I peer inside it. The fluorescent lights are in their sockets and switched on, which makes it pretty easy to make out details inside."
"The surface of the pedestal is covered in a royal blue faux-velvet, probably purchased from an arts and crafts store, knowing this place."
"If I didn't know better, I'd say it looks fit for a king."
"The way the fabric retains indentations from heavy objects makes it plain as day that Tosh's opera mask once sat here."
"It also makes clear that the opera mask had a particularly thick etching in it."
"It's what I'd imagine is a designer's mark. I recall seeing something about it on...I think PBS or something."
"It's a bit difficult to make out due to the small size, but I see a reversed series of letters and numbers. Thinking ahead, I copy it down in my notebook, exactly as I see it."
play sound "sound/footsteps-museum.mp3"
scene bg PSMHRestroom
with dissolve
"I've never been terribly good at reading backwards, so I find a restroom and use the mirror over the sink to read it."
"It takes a bit of squinting to make anything out, before I realize that the mirror is covered in soap scum. I decide to wipe some of it off with a paper towel."
"Now that I'm able to see the reflected notebook in the mirror, I find that it says, \"IVIT 5177.\""
"I'm not entirely sure what that means. Could it be number 5177 out of a series of 6000? Or could IVIT stand for...uh..."
"...Ishmael van Iberstadt Thaumaturgy?"
"...I have no idea how Indiana Jones does that crap."
scene bg PSMHMuseumExterior
with dissolve
"Well, there's one other thing I want to check out today, and I've had about all I can take of this dusty old place, so I bid Viola farewell and wait for a bus just outside."
"One shows up in short order, and I plunk a couple of quarters into the machine up front, getting a day pass from the driver."
"The Pacific Art Museum of Art (they've never bothered losing the redundancy) is just on the other side of town."
"Not quite far enough that I couldn't just walk, but not quite convenient enough that I'd really want to."
scene bg CityBus
with dissolve
"I try to find a free seat near the front of the bus. Unfortunately, the front seats are folded up to make room for a man in a wheelchair with a cardboard sign."
"It reads, \"Spare a dime for a myopic war vet?\""
"I might be hard up for cash, but I at least have the courtesy to toss him a couple of quarters. Every bit counts...that much will at least afford him the bus ride back from wherever he's going."
"I decide to grab one of the dangling handles in the aisle. I've never been very good at standing in a bus."
"They say that after a while you start to get your \"sea legs\"...clearly, I have much to learn, since I've been riding these things since I was 14 and I still have no idea how it's possible."
"It's only made worse by how packed this bus is today. It must be the post-breakfast rush, where all the people who stopped for a breakfast burrito now have to hurry to work."
"Or maybe they're going the opposite direction and they're off to early lunch."
"I'd rarely admit this out loud, but I'm always terrified that the bus will hit a pothole and send me careening into an especially pissed-off businessman, or the chair-bound 'Nam vet, or just out of the bus entirely."
"I don't notice for a few stops that my grip has tightened to the handle so much that my fingers are nearly falling asleep. My knuckles are whiter than Ernst Blofeld's cat."
"Hell, I'm barely aware that my other hand has reached up to double the grip on said handle."
with hpunch
"The bus pulls into its next stop - why is it that, when you're in a hurry, the bus needs to stop absolutely everywhere? - and nearly collides with the curb."
"I gasp for air as I realize that I haven't been breathing for the last minute or so."
with vpunch
"The impact wave from a pothole makes its way down the aisle and nearly throws me into the fat guy behind me. I'm about to turn 180 and start groveling and apologizing..."
"...when the driver calls out the next destination."
"Bus driver" "Next stop, Artisan Street and 44th Avenue!"
"Great, I can finally get out of this hell-on-wheels!"
scene bg PAMAMuseumExterior
with dissolve
"I hurriedly disembark just outside the college campus where the art museum is."
"A sudden relief spreads throughout my body, now that I'm back on stable land."
b "HOOH!"
"A passing female student gives me a confused look and continues on her way, just slightly faster than before."
"I really can't stress how much I hate crowded buses."
"It's fine if the bus is mostly empty, but during rush hour? I'd rather walk."
"Sadly, that wasn't an option today, with how far away this place is."
"The Pacific Southeast Community College is all too familiar to me, unfortunately. It brings back memories of disappointment and rejection."
"I once tried to become a student; the fact that I said \"tried\" should tell you how successful I was."
"I actually got far enough that I was given the tour of the campus, but the rejection letter I received the following week insisted that I was \"not serious enough about my education\" to be admitted."
"Fine by me. These guys seemed like a bunch of sheltered nerds anyway."
"I find the front entrance to the Pacific Art Museum of Art just on the other side of the nearest building to the bus shelter."
play sound "sound/door2.wav"
scene bg PAMAMuseum
with dissolve
"The curator, who is speaking to an apparent colleague, halts her conversation to come speak to me."
show placeholder normal at center
with dissolve
"She's more wrinkled than my last load of laundry, and so grey that the overcast sky outside seems positively vivid by comparison."
c "I'm sorry, we aren't accepting visitors at the moment."
"I could imagine why not - after all, they had a break-in only a couple of days ago, according to the Daily."
b "About that, actually...my name's Bastion Crowley, I'm a private investigator."
c "{i}I{/i} certainly didn't hire you. The police have already come and gone."
b "The police, huh? And how much help were they, exactly?"
c "I don't think that I like your tone, young man. You ought to be more respectful towards law enforcement."
"She scowls in the way that only near-retired school teachers can."
b "I've seen the case file. The police seem to believe that nothing of value was taken. I am prepared to believe otherwise."
c "If I'd half a mind, I'd think you were making up your story on the spot."
"Damn. I bet she'd be impossible to bluff in a poker game. Those sharp, discerning eyes miss nothing, despite being imprisoned in sockets even older than most of PSMH's Victorian Oddities."
b "{i}(ahem){/i} I'm actually here regarding a theft at another museum. I was hired to seek any potential connections between their case and yours."
"Well, actually, I'm not exactly hired yet - Tosh hasn't contacted me since yesterday, and back then, his opera mask hadn't disappeared yet."
"I really doubt Viola is willing to pay me for my services out of pocket. She strikes me as the sort of person who is barely making ends meet."
c "And where did you hear that we had a break-in?"
b "From you. Just now."
"The stifled grimace forming in her lips tells me that I should get serious."
b "Actually, I read it in this morning's Pacific Southeast Daily News."
c "Your client should contact the police if they've had a theft."
"Grr, she's slamming on all the brakes, trying to jam my progress by any means possible. Now what?"
menu:
"Grr, she's slamming on all the brakes, trying to jam my progress by any means possible. Now what?{fast}"
"The thief could strike again!":
b "Beside the point, ma'am. I have a very clear suspicion that there may be a repeat offender on the loose, and that whoever stole from my client may have taken something of value from this museum as well."
b "So please, let me take a look at the display case that was damaged."
jump PAMAArgumentAfter
"The police are worthless!":
b "The police? The same police that have utterly failed to find you a suspect for your vandalized display case?"
c "That is completely irrelevant."
jump PAMAArgumentAfter
"Get out of my way!":
hide placeholder
with dissolve
"I don't even say anything to her, instead barging past to grab a quick look at the display cases."
c "Get back here this instant! You are not permitted in here!"
"I don't see a single case that's been damaged. Maybe I misread something..."
"I pull the newspaper clipping from my notebook. It does say they reported a display case had been vandalized..."
"So where is it?"
show placeholder normal at center
with dissolve
c "Just what are you after? It can't be anything good."
b "You told the police that one of your display boxes had been damaged. Which one was it? Did you already replace it?"
jump PAMAArgumentAfter
label PAMAArgumentAfter:
c "There was no damage to any of our property."
"There's more shit in that statement than the monkey cages, and I've got just the thing to prove it."
"I pull the notebook out of my flight jacket, in which I've glued a clipping from the police blotter."
b "According to this morning's paper, you told the police that nothing was actually stolen from here, but you claim that one of your display cases was damaged."
c "Then the police report was wrong."
b "Unless you've got something to hide - even from the police that you say {i}I{/i} ought to show more respect towards - I suggest that you come clean. Ma'am."
"Debate rule #12: a little respect and cool-headedness can go a long way toward completely derailing a hostile argument."
"The \"ma'am\" came as an afterthought, but even a hard-nosed bitch like her doesn't have anything to counter with. She breaks eye contact and focuses instead on some outsider art on the wall to her left."
c "Let me show you to our store room."
# Scene: Storage closet, dimly lit.
"In the back of the room, just past a rather elaborate wall hanging depicting two hummingbirds with US Air Force markings on their wings, is a smallish closet."
"The lady tweaks a dimmer switch on the wall, illuminating a solitary glass display pedestal. It looks like a similar model to the ones at PSMH."
"There's only some cracking, a bit of spiderweb pattern in the top surface, as if someone wanted to get in with a hammer. Like the cases at PSMH, there is no obvious security on the case, and no place to install a lock."
"The actual display surface of the pedestal is made of a laminated hardwood. No discernable patterns, indentations, marks, scratches, or anything that would help me."
"I still have a question for her, though..."
b "There was obviously some intent of theft here, so why did you tell the police that nothing was stolen?"
c "Correction, sir, nothing {i}of value{/i} was stolen. There was, in fact, an art piece removed from the premises, but it is quite worthless."
b "You had the item appraised?"
c "It was a student piece; it is worthless by definition."
b "Could you describe the item that was taken?"
c "Yes, certainly. It was a domino mask, made of some type of heavy material and plated in brass. It was attached to a strong rod, just over a foot in length...and the right eye had a monocular lens set in."
b "I believe I've heard of the work in question, ma'am...Victorian era?"
c "Incorrect. If someone has shown you the piece and claimed it to be as old as that, then they are playing you for a fool. As I said, it was a piece made by a student."
"So the mask is a fake. A rather convincing one, at that...could have fooled me, though I wish I'd gotten a closer look at the thing while it was still in its case."
hide placeholder
with dissolve
"Tosh has got some serious explaining to do, so I pull the PSMH business card from my wallet and dial the number on the phone up front."
"As expected, Tosh isn't there; I leave a simple message for him through Viola that he should come meet me at my office this afternoon if he can. I doubt he will, though."
scene bg PAMAMuseumExterior
with dissolve
"That taken care of, I bid my goodbyes to the museum curator and make for the nearest eatery. God, I'm hungry."
"I seem to recall Irma's Diner is around here somewhere."
scene bg DinerExterior
with dissolve
"I haven't eaten here in ages. Mostly because it's not convenient to walk, and the food isn't exactly cheap, so I usually stay in and eat cup noodles for lunch instead.{w} And dinner.{w}..and yeah, breakfast too, sometimes."
"What can I say, though, at ten cents a packet, they're certainly the least expensive way to keep myself fed."
"I'm in the mood for a good soup and sandwich today, though, so my stomach guides me to Irma's."
"Place doesn't seem to have changed all that much, from the outside. Then again, Irma's place is supposed to be one big retro throw-back."
scene bg DinerInterior
with dissolve
# make sound of door with jingle bells
i "Hello, I'll be with you in a minute."
"Irma - the owner, chef, and head waitress - is busy cleaning a few dishes up front, while a young man - probably a recent hire - is scrambling to write down orders. It is pretty much lunch time by now, so it's no wonder."
"I grab a seat at the bar, closest to the front, and start admiring the decor."
"This place is straight out of the fifties, right down to Irma herself."
"The walls are covered with posters for movies that came out upwards of thirty years ago. James Bond in Dr. No. The Party with Peter Sellers. Charade with Cary Grant. Hitchcock's Rear Window."
"There are some Elvis record albums pinned by their centers, right next to an old pendulum clock."
"In the back next to the restrooms are some arcade machines. Pac-Man Plus and Xevious, it looks like.{w} I never got what was so \"plus\" about Pac-Man Plus. It's the same game, isn't it?"
show placeholder normal at center
with easeinright
"I spy Irma finally making her way over to me with a pad of order tickets in hand."
i "What'll you have today?"
b "A grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of tomato soup. And do you have any cold root beers?"
i "Just a couple left; great timing, hon."
hide placeholder
with dissolve
"The soup is already boiling and the skillet is still hot from the last grilled cheese she made for the guy in the booth across the room, so it doesn't take long for her to put my meal together."
"It's ready within 2 minutes, but I wait a bit for it to cool. She tends to make her sandwiches too hot for human consumption."
show placeholder normal at center
with dissolve
i "The cheese is fresh today, hon, it came from that farm down the freeway. Y'know, their cows are the only herd left in the state that don't have tracking devices on 'em?"
b "Really."
"I'm not terribly interested - I'd rather keep enjoying the scent of the soup."
i "Yeah, you know, the FBI is trying to make sure all cattle have trackers on 'em, so if they get stolen..."
b "By aliens, right?"
i "...I never thought of that! I wonder if FBI tracking devices work past Earth orbit?"
"I'd only intended to give her a sarcastic brush-off, but I'd unwittingly fueled her next conspiracy rant."
i "You know they just found another crop circle at that farm down the freeway, right?"
b "Was it shaped like a little bunny?"
i "How did you know? Are you sure you're not a psychic?{w} Did you plant a listening device in my diner last week?{w} I better check your coat sleeve to make sure--"
b "That won't be necessary, Irma, besides, you need a warrant for that. Can I eat my food, please?"
i "Right, right, sorry, heh..."
hide placeholder
with easeoutright
"She gets back to lecturing her new soda-jerk on the proper finesse of scooping ice cream for a root beer float."
"Had I a little extra spending money, I'd almost be tempted to be the poor kid's first customer."
scene bg DinerExterior
with dissolve
"I'll say this about Irma - she might be a card-carrying loony, but she does make a damned fine soup and sandwich."
"I finish my grilled cheese and leave five bucks and an extra dollar tip on the counter before I go. Really, the act of eating lunch would be a lot less interesting without her conspiracy theory song and dance routine."
"I'd better get back to the office and wait for Marcus to call me back."
scene bg Black
with dissolve
"...."
scene bg Tandy
with dissolve
"I while away the moments trying to learn how to program games into my Tandy."
pc "10 PRINT \"HELLO WORLD!\"{w}\n20 GOTO 10"
extend "\nRUN"
"I really don't have that much skill, beyond copying stuff out of this magazine and changing what all the Print commands say."
"It's just about 7 PM when I finish adding more swear words to \"Daedalus Star Voyage.\""
"Since just before noon, I haven't had a single phone call, knock at the door, or random person shouting at my window from street level."
"That last one is pretty impressive for this neighborhood."
"Okay, yeah, I did say a while ago that this part of town isn't so bad. I might have been making stuff up."
"Really, it's not terrible. I can think of worse places."
"Places like...Cleveland."
"And..."
"...and..."
"...sigh."
"Alright, I give up."
"At least we have a higher \"happiness rating\" than Detroit, statistically speaking."
"No idea where the hell they get their figures from, because I sure as hell didn't get a poll in the mail or anything asking if I was happy."
"It occurs to me that, if Tosh hasn't shown up now, he's probably never going to show up."
"I make one last call to PSMH, asking for Mr. Tosh and predictably only getting Viola. She obviously hasn't seen him."
"I'm worn out from having altered my sleep schedule so drastically, so I decide to call it a night, switch off the Tandy and go crash in my room."
"Let's see if I can't get a continuation on that dream from yesterday."
scene bg Black
with fade
"...."
scene bg BedroomInteriorFull at right
with dissolve
"....No such luck, I'm afraid."
"Just about a day later, and I still haven't heard from Marcus Tosh."
"No luck on getting that dream back, either. I think my dream was about...cabbages, or something."
"Dreams suck, anyway."
scene bg ApartmentExterior
with dissolve
"I should take the initiative for once and look up Tosh's phone number. He'll get a stern talking to about remembering to give me his contact info."
"I haven't owned a phone book since I moved in to my apartment. I guess it hadn't occurred to me that, at some point, I might want to know someone's phone number."
"That, unfortunately, means that I need to scour the streets to find a phone book that hasn't been desecrated."
"The search doesn't last long; the phone booth a block from the apartment complex appears to have an intact book, with not a single page ripped or even creased."
"This is something of an anomaly. Usually, when I see a phone book on a public phone, half the pages have been ripped out by homeless people in need of toilet paper."
"I make a move to the booth, except I come to realize that the booth is occupied."
scene bg CityStreetPhonebooth
with dissolve
"It isn't the kind of booth with darkened windows, so I can see the person inside just fine, as she argues with an unseen person through the receiver."
"Her reddish-blonde ponytail flips around, as she does that furious hand gesture thing that Italians seem to be doing constantly."
"Her newsboy cap nearly flies off as she shouts into the mouthpiece."
"Funny enough, despite her carrying every appearance of screaming at the target of her conversation, I can't hear a word she says."
"Either the phone company's millions of dollars invested in soundproofing are paying off...or she's not shouting."
"Even point-blank to the booth, I can't quite make out what she's saying, except for one final quip."
show r normal at right
with dissolve
"Red-Haired Woman" "Well, you can fuck off right back to your desk, then, Albert!"
"She slams the receiver back on its cradle hard enough that I can hear change rattling inside the pay phone."
"Hell hath no fury, and all that."
show r normal at offscreenright
with move
"She storms out the phone booth, slamming the door shut in the process, and nearly bumps into me."
"I can't help but stare back at her as she aims to cross the street towards an old Vista Cruiser."
"Something - must have been the glare I'd been giving her - makes her stop only a few steps away from me."
show r normal at right
with move
"She turns toward me, slowly, as if she's embarrassed to think that someone just heard her cussing someone out in public."
"That's when I finally get a look at her face. It's a face I've known for a while. It doesn't take me long to put a name to it."
b "Ruby."
r "Hey, Bass."
"That's \"bass\" as in the fish. I swear, I spent all of high school trying to shake that stupid nickname."
b "...You alright?"
r "Not really, but since when has that ever stopped me?"
b "Trouble at home?"
r "Trouble at work, more like."
"She seems entirely too happy, given the angry phone call she'd finished a few seconds ago."
b "What'd Albert do to deserve that?"
"She squirms a little bit, obviously regretting her decision to hold her previous conversation on a public phone."
r "You heard all that, didn't you?"
b "Bit hard not to, when you're that pissed off."
r "Yeah, well, it serves him right, the bastard. He {i}knows{/i} I'm on lunch break, and he still decides to fuckin' page me?"
menu:
r "Yeah, well, it serves him right, the bastard. He {i}knows{/i} I'm on lunch break, and he still decides to fuckin' page me?{fast}"
"Is Albert your boss?":
jump AlbertBoss
"Is Albert your boyfriend?":
jump AlbertBoyfriend
"Is Albert your stepfather?":
jump AlbertStepfather
label AlbertBoss:
b "Is he your boss?"
r "Not exactly. I don't officially work {i}under{/i} him, I just always end up being the one that gets him coffee, the rat fuck."
jump AlbertAfter
label AlbertBoyfriend:
b "Is he your latest love interest?"
"She visibly gags on something."
r "I just got done shouting at him for trying to call me on my lunch break! How the fuck do you get \"boyfriend\" out of that?"
r "...Besides, what do you mean, \"latest\"? You of all people should know--"
b "Geez, sorry for trying to make a joke. What's the deal with him, then?"
r "He's technically supposed to be a co-worker, but he keeps trying to pull seniority on me, just 'cause he's worked there longer than me."
r "Keeps making me go get his coffee, too, the son of a bitch."
jump AlbertAfter
label AlbertStepfather:
b "So who is he, your stepfather? Did your mom remarry, or something?"
r "No, thank the fuckin' powers that be. I don't think I'd want to go on living if I were related to Albert."
b "What is he to you, then?"
r "I work with him. He's not my boss, but he sure acts like he is. Always makes me go make him coffee, like he can't get up and make it by his fuckin' self."
jump AlbertAfter
label AlbertAfter:
"Her real name is Antonia Travaglia, and I've known her since middle school by the nickname \"Ruby.\""
"She comes from an old family of Italian immigrants. You'd hardly be able to tell, except from the way her hands take on a life of their own when she's arguing."
"And boy, oh boy, does she know how to argue. I mean, she's not exactly \"Captain of the Debate Team\"-good, but the amount of swearing, screaming, and general misanthropy she brings to an argument is enough to leave most politicians utterly speechless."
b "You still working at the paper?"
r "If you could call it that. I'd make more money serving coffee at the diner, and at least then I'd be serving coffee to more than one person."
b "Heh...true, that."
r "Seriously though, I haven't seen you since graduation. The hell you been up to?"
b "Me? Basically nothing."
"She'd probably laugh if I told her what I'd gotten myself into."
r "Oh, come on, Bass, you know it's pointless to lie to me."
b "You really want to know?"
r "Can't be that bad, can it? It's not like you've got the guts to go into contract killing or dope dealing."
b "...You'd be about right on that."
r "Really though, Bass. What are you up to?"
b "...."
b "........"
b "....Private investigation."
r "I told you to quit lying."
b "It's the truth."
r "So what was with that dramatic pause?"
b "I couldn't decide whether or not I thought you'd believe me."
r "Would I ever doubt you?"
b "You did a few seconds ago."
r "Heh. You smartass. You got a case yet?"
b "Actually yeah. Working my first one right now."
r "Oooh, whaddaya got? Police covering up a murder? Sexy broad with legs like street lamps?"
b "I wish."
"Ohh, how I wish. I wish with every fiber of my being. And a certain other fiber, as well."
"...Street lamps? Ruby needs to work on her detective monologue."
b "Actually, it's some smarmy-sounding bastard who wants me to track down a museum piece."
b "He pulled that \"I'll get in touch with you\" crap."
r "And there go the warning bells."
b "Let me guess, you think my client is pond scum."
r "Well, {i}duh{/i}, isn't it obvious?"
b "You'll get no argument from me, I mean, I'm pretty sure his piece is going to turn out to be a fake."
r "Well, why else wouldn't he give you his contact info if he didn't have some plan to try to fuck you over?"
"Gee, Ruby, what colorful language you have."
b "I was just about to see if this guy had a number in the phone book. Want to help?"
r "Sounds like fun."
"I really can't tell if she meant that to be sarcastic or not, but I'm sure she'd rather be doing this than going back to work."
hide r
with easeoutright
"We double back to the phone booth and grab the directory, which is secured to the booth by a rather ridiculous number of security chains."
"Seems like the phone companies are finally starting to realize what people have been doing to the things."
"I start in the residential numbers, under T for Tosh. There's a Graham Tosh, but no Marcus."
"Ruby starts thinking about alternative spellings, since it occurs to me that I've only once seen the name written down, on the plaque for his artifact at PSMH, and it might have been misspelled, knowing them."
"She flips back a page to find the TA- section. As I'm about to ask what she's doing, she taps her finger on a number labeled \"Tawsh, M.\""
"The both of us start rifling through our pockets for nickels to use on the {a=CellPhoneRant}pay phone{/a}."
jump CellPhoneRantAfter
label CellPhoneRant:
"Okay, you back there, the one wondering why we aren't using cell phones?" "Do you know how expensive those things are?" "Not nearly within the financial reach of either one of us." "Not to mention, they're heavier than a backpack full of school books." "Besides that...the ability to call or receive calls from anyone, anywhere, at any time, would get really irritating after a while." "Not to mention, it wouldn't be especially conducive to a good detective mystery." "I mean, you could just call your partner and make sure they're okay, instead of being forced to wait until you get back to the office and finding him dead." "...Not that I'd rather find my partner dead than be able to call and warn him that a hitman's after him." "Not that I'd want a partner in the first place, but if I had to have one, it'd be Ruby, and no way would a hitman be after her, because she can take care of herself, dammit." "Now where was I?" return
label CellPhoneRantAfter:
"Ruby puts in just one nickel - we doubt we'll need more for a quick dial."
"I carefully push the buttons for M. Tawsh's phone number."
"It doesn't even ring. The recorded voice says that the number is not in service."
"I try my theory and dial Graham Tosh next. The phone rings about four times on the other end until someone finally picks it up."
show Phone at center
with easeinbottom
"Girl on phone" "{i}Hello?{/i}"
"The voice sounds female and young, likely no older than 16."
"I've been wrong about that before."
b "Uh, yeah, I'm calling to find out if there is a Marcus Tosh at this number?"
"Girl on phone" "{i}Marcus...Marcus...oh, yeah! Mr. Tosh's youngest son! But no, no he isn't at this number.{/i}"
b "Would you have any idea where I could get in touch?"
"Girl on phone" "{i}I probably shouldn't say this, but...{/i}"
"She starts whispering into the phone."
"Girl on phone" "{i}Uh...Marcus went to jail about five years ago. The last time I heard, he was still there.{/i}"
b "Jail? What for?"
"As I ask this, the phone starts buzzing for more change. I nudge Ruby and she starts feeding the phone more nickels."
"Girl on phone" "{i}I...forget why, exactly. Probably something dumb. I wouldn't know, honestly.{/i}"
b "You wouldn't? And yet you know who Marcus Tosh is?"
"Girl on phone" "{i}That's about the size of it, yup.{/i}"
b "Do you mind if I ask who you are?"
"Girl on phone" "{i}Oh, uh, I'm Jenny. I'm Graham Tosh's caretaker.{/i}"
b "I'm Bastion Crowley. You said 'caretaker?'"
"Jenny" "{i}Yeah. He's getting on in years and needs someone on-call, twenty-four-seven, in case he bludgeons himself with a shower head.{/i}"
"I hear a faint rustling from the other end, probably her covering the receiver with a hand as she calls out to someone.{w} She's back after a few seconds of silence."
"Jenny" "{i}Speaking of the devil, I better get going. Happy to help and all, but that's all I got anyway.{/i}"
b "Fair enough. You have fun, now."
"Jenny" "{i}Oh, sure.{/i}"
"She's the first to hang up."
hide Phone
with easeoutbottom
"Caretaker, huh. Jenny did say Marcus was Graham's youngest son, but Marcus didn't look much older than me."
"If I had to guess, I'd say Jenny was confused - I bet Graham is a grandpa, not a dad, to Marcus."
"I note down Graham Tosh's phone number in my notebook to try again at a later date."
"If nothing else, I could strike up a conversation with Jenny."
"Nah. Not likely to go anywhere."
"It's getting to be a quarter til one, meaning Ruby is nearly exceeding her lunch hour. She bids her goodbyes, flicks me a business card and hops into her car across the street."
"She's off like a flash."
"I didn't think the Vista could accelerate like that."
"Then again, I don't exactly drive, myself."
"The conversation with Jenny has given me a fresh lead. I can't exactly get any more information on Tosh's artifact..."
"...but there's nothing that says a detective can't dig up more info on the client."
"Granted, it stands to reason that there are some things you don't want to learn about the people that are writing your checks."
"But I figure, what the hell, he won't return my calls...and he's got quite a lot of explaining to do once I get a hold of him."
scene bg PoliceStationExterior
with dissolve
"It takes about half an hour of walking to get from the street corner to the PSEPD's local precinct."
"The locals call this precinct \"Hell's Fridge.\""
"I still don't quite understand what that's supposed to mean. I mean, it's obviously some kind of riff on \"Hell's Kitchen,\" but why a fridge?"
"Is there really not that much crime happening around here?"
"Or is it full of leftovers, old cases from other precincts?"
"I'm overthinking it again."
scene bg PoliceStation
with dissolve
play sound "sound/door2.wav"
"I step past the motley assortment of folks in the waiting room."
"In the row nearest the front door, there's a worried-looking soccer mom type, clutching her purse nervously, her gaze locked at the nearby door to Interview Room 1."
"Next to her is a little boy that I assume to be her son; he isn't crying right now, but he looks like he has been."
"The row in front of them seats two muscular men in ripped blue jeans and leather vests. One of them has a mohawk. The other is wearing a pickelhaus with the chin strap undone."
"After that, the next few rows are empty aside from one homeless guy sleeping under some newspapers. Last week's Sunday comics page, specifically."
"It's all capped off by a hippie type who is handcuffed to a radiator in the corner of the room."
"Judging from his ramblings, he probably handcuffed himself."
"I approach the duty sergeant's desk and ask my little question."
show placeholder normal at seatedcenter
with dissolve
b "Excuse me...I need to run a criminal background check on a specific person."
"Desk Sergeant" "Are you an employer?"
b "I am."
"The reply comes out automatically, before I have a chance to think."
"Desk Sergeant" "What company do you work for?"
b "...Uh...what?"
"Desk Sergeant" "Just for our records. Captain likes to keep informed on who gets let into the records room."
menu:
b "Um..."
"Attorneys at law.":
b "I represent the legal firm, H. and P. Hiram."
"Oh crap, please don't let him notice..."
"...He's written it out on his notepad and hasn't cracked up laughing yet, so I might be in the clear."
jump PSEPDBackcheckAfter
"Some utility blade company.":
b "I'm with the Human Resources department for the Voorhees Machete Company."
"Shit. Was that reference too obvious?{w}...He doesn't seem to catch on, thank god."
jump PSEPDBackcheckAfter
"A foreign ballet production company.":
b "I represent the American branch of the Argento Ballet Company."
"...He bought it.{w} And here, I thought I'd never get anything useful out of watching that movie."
jump PSEPDBackcheckAfter
label PSEPDBackcheckAfter:
"It did at some point occur to me that lying to a police officer is not the wisest of moves, but I'd already said my piece."
"Desk Sergeant" "Alright. I'll have someone show you to the records room."
hide placeholder
with dissolve
"That was...unusually easy."
"I try not to look too guilty as he picks up his desk phone and calls an officer to help me."
"He shows up within 15 seconds and leads me to the basement, unlocking the door to the records room for me."
scene bg PoliceStationRecordsRoom
with dissolve
"The records \"room\" is actually several basement offices linked together. There used to be doors between them, but they've been removed from their hinges to make the place look more open."
"The helpful policeman shows me to a filing cabinet labeled \"Ta-To,\" informs me that he'll be waiting just outside, and asks me to knock on the door when I'm finished."
"A little rifling around in the Ta- file shows me that the PSEPD doesn't seem to take their filing system seriously."
"Of all the names I can think of, none of them appear in here. Taverdash. Tawdry. Tawlette. Taylor."
"Taylor? ...The only entry in here is Elizabeth Taylor, whose criminal record consists entirely of \"being Elizabeth Taylor.\""
"I flip backwards a few folders, and do away with Ruby's theory upon finding a Tawsh file."
"The only folder here under that name is for a Millicent Tawsh - her file seems to only indicate that she has been dead since four years ago. Presumably, she's only in here for having been involved in a murder - her own, in fact."
"That would certainly explain why her phone didn't ring, but it doesn't speak much for the phone company, who failed to remove the name from their directory."
"Scratching that lead off the list in my notebook, I move on to the fourth drawer, the one labeled \"Toa-Tov,\" where I imagine Tosh's file would be near the end."
"Toachley...Toast...Toblerone?{w}...wait, Toast?...Oh, of course, it's French.{w}...Tocks? Oh, real original, his first name is Butz.{w}..ugh, most of these files are just cheap jokes. What the hell's with the police around here?"
"I get impatient and start from the end instead, finding the file I'm looking for within only a few pages."
"Marcus Tyler Tosh. Age, 26. Sex, male. 6'0\", 200 lbs. Caucasian."
"Criminal record: June 12th, 1979, 4 counts of possession. Sentence: Five years state prison. Sentence expired June 1984."
"Possession? ...Huh. Doesn't seem to get any more descriptive than that. Assuming that's what I think it is, I wouldn't put it past him."
"So Jenny was right - Tosh went to jail for five years. Guess she hadn't heard that he'd gotten out, though."
"I bet Marcus didn't bother getting in touch."
"Why would he, though? I mean, I sure haven't called {i}my{/i} parents since I moved out."
"There's not really much else worth looking at in here, so I knock to signal the man outside and submit to a quick patdown, figuring that a quick fondling is price enough to pay for how easy it was to get in here."
scene bg PoliceStation
with dissolve
"Can't imagine I'd want it to happen a lot, though."
"I solemnly swear to myself that I will not access the records room again unless absolutely necessary."
"Unless the officer on duty is a woman.{w}..oh, get your mind out of the gutter, Bastion."
scene bg PoliceStationExterior
with dissolve
$ Case1Situation = False
"As I venture out the police station's front door again, passing by the crying mom and the two bored-looking bikers, I whip out my notes and start looking them over again."
"{a=Case1Situation}The situation thus far{/a}, in other words."
if Case1Situation:
jump Case1SituationAfter
"...Meh. I don't have time for that crap right now."
jump Case1SituationAfter
label Case1Situation:
scene bg StreetCorner with dissolve $ Case1Situation = True "Earlier this week, when I decided I was going to try my hand at private sleuthing, I posted a want-ad on the local BBS." "The one guy that responded was Marcus Tosh. He seemed convinced that a certain \"rare\" artifact of his was going to be stolen." "It was easy to imagine why when I looked at it. The thing looked old. Really old. A tarnished brass opera mask with a monocular lens in one eye." "He left in a hurry, though, and didn't leave me with any contact information." "I'd read the next morning's paper and found that there was another museum in town that'd had a burglary." "Before I had the chance to visit them and ask questions, Viola at PSMH called me and told me that there had been a burglary there, as well." "That's when I got a look at the fake velvet padding, and the heavy indentations Tosh's piece left in it." "Most importantly, it showed me that there was a particularly deep engraving on the back." "The engraving seemed a bit indistinct - well, what do you want from indentations on fake velvet, read in a mirror? - but I believe it read \"IVIT 5177.\"" "Could have been a maker's mark, or a serial number." "I moved on to check out the other museum that had been robbed, the Pacific Art Museum of Art." "The ancient curator there was pretty tight-lipped. It was only after a lot of convincing that I was able to get her to tell me what got stolen." "Sure enough, the piece Tosh had on display was the same item that got ripped off from the PAMA." "Since I still couldn't get in touch with Tosh himself, I decided to look him up in the phone book." "Ruby helped me find his father in the directory, but Marcus himself was unlisted." "I learned through Mr. Graham Tosh's caretaker, a young woman named Jenny, that Marcus had gone to jail and had been there for five years." "Following this up, I hit the police station and looked up his criminal record, confirming that he'd done five years for \"possession.\"" "...And that's about where I'm at now." return
label Case1SituationAfter:
scene bg BastionsOffice
with dissolve
"I get back to my apartment to check my answering machine."
"Still no messages on it, but there's a note card slipped under the door. It's from Artie."
"\"Bastion, a large parcel arrived for you, but you were out. I've got it in my office for safekeeping. Come see me. -Arthur\""
scene bg ApartmentHallway
with dissolve
"Welp, an encounter with my landlord has pretty much been a long time coming, so I think up a reasonable excuse about my rent before I approach his room."
"I softly tap on the frosted glass in the door. It reads, \"Arthur Blitzney, Manager.\""
"There's an equally soft reply from within, urging me to get inside."
scene bg ApartmentManagersOffice
show placeholder normal at seatedcenter
with dissolve
play sound "sound/door2.wav"
"I don't even need to sit down before Arthur starts off."
a "Mr. Crowley, how nice of you to join me. I was just about to pop open a champagne to celebrate the day that you finally pay your back rent."
b "Well, I'd hate to disappoint..."
"I start fishing for my wallet."
a "Bah, I'm just joshin' with you, Bastion. I'm givin' ya crap."
b "I've never quite figured out how to respond to that."
a "Don't worry about it. I know what you're here about, in any case."
"He reaches under his desk and retrieves a brown parcel, about a foot and a half in length, from behind the modesty panel."
"The fact that there's no return address and that it's been postmarked two days ago gives me a decent guess as to what's inside."
hide placeholder
with dissolve
"I grab my keys and use the sharpest one to slit the packing tape open."
"I never did trust myself with box knives."
"Inside the box is a lot of newspaper. Mostly old sports pages. Within said newspaper is something heavy, and familiarly colored."
"Brass. Tarnished."
"Oh, fuck."
"Picking the thing up, my worst fears are confirmed. It's that mask."
"Funny, the thing feels really cheap. I could probably smash this thing, despite it being metal-covered. I'm starting to see a lot more imperfections and obvious amateur mistakes..."
"But I can't deny that, in the right light, and without being able to touch it, this could be passed off as a decent enough fake."
"I finish unwrapping the brass opera mask to find that there is a Post-It note stuck to the face."
"It reads, \"I hope you've got a good place to hide this - the police will be looking for it by the time you receive it.\""
"And the fact that I was just in their department earlier today under less than truthful circumstances wouldn't look good on me, either."
"I need to indulge a curiosity, so I flip the mask over to look at the engraving that has confused me so much."
"As it turns out, I've completely misinterpreted it."
"Somewhere along the line of having read the indentation - backwards - from the fake velvet, copying it into my notebook by eye, and reading the reflection of it in the bathroom mirror..."
"I've basically just subjected myself to a solo rendition of the \"telephone game.\" Communication breakdown, as Led Zeppelin would have put it."
"The engraving on the back of the opera mask does not read \"IVIT 5177\" - it actually reads \"MT 5/1/77.\""
"Since the curves on the letter M were not as deep as the straight lines, I did not see them in the indentation. Thus, I mistook the letter M for an I, a V, and another I."
"The numbers also seemed to run together as 5177, but the faint slashes proved difficult to see in the indentation."
"The slashes seem to indicate that the number is a date. May the first of 1977."
"Tosh's police file stated his age as 26. When he was arrested in 1979, he would have been in college."
"It's entirely possible that Tosh made it himself, as an art project for college."
"The question remains, then, why the hell would he want to steal his own work?"
show placeholder normal at left
with easeinleft
a "The insurance!"
"Damn it, Artie, are you going senile--{w}wait. What?"
a "He'd steal his own piece and claim the insurance money on it."
b "Was I just now...?"
a "You gotta work on that detective monologue, Bastion. It's s'posed to be internal, not external."
b "So I just inadvertently clued you in on this whole deal, huh?"
a "Pretty much. Just a random guess, though."
b "You might be more correct than you think, Artie."
hide placeholder
scene bg ApartmentHallway
with dissolve
"I wrap the brass mask back up in its newspaper and slip it back into the cardboard box as I determinedly stride out the door."
scene bg ApartmentExterior
with dissolve
"I'm not slowing down - I'm walking right in to PSMH and handing this thing right back to 'em."
scene bg PSMHMuseumExterior
with dissolve
"I briefly consider kicking the museum's door open - not because it would be dramatic or particularly stress-relieving, but because this box is a bit on the heavy side."
"I think better of it and tuck the box under my left arm, so as to reach the doorknob."
scene bg PSMHMuseum
with dissolve
play sound "sound/door3.wav"
"The museum is oddly empty. The front desk is left unattended."
"Viola doesn't strike me as the sort of person who would leave her desk without good cause."
"I don't see any of the usual signs of someone leaving in a hurry, though."
"I hear muffled voices from a distance."
"Someone doesn't sound too happy."
"There are only so many places that someone could hide in a little building like this, so I start sweeping around."
"The voices become significantly clearer as I approach the first spot that comes to mind - the Victorian Oddities construction area."
"Marcus Tosh?" "How? You were supposed to keep an eye on it!"
"Now there's a voice I haven't heard in...{w}what, a week?{w} God, has it been that long already?"
v "I-I-I don't know! I came in a few mornings ago and it was just...gone!"
"I instinctively flatten myself against the wall just outside the doorway. The bare walls reflect their voices well enough that I'm surprised I had any trouble hearing them at all from the lobby."
m "You bloody ignorant little--"
v "Why are you yelling at me?"
m "Because {i}you{/i} got my mask stolen!"
v "No I fucking didn't! Next you're going to say that I took it myself!"
"Holy hell, her tongue's sharp enough that it could have slit my throat from all the way over here!"
m "Maybe you {i}did{/i}!"
v "This is ridiculous! What is your fucking problem?"
m "I {i}thought{/i} I made that perfectly clear already! My mask has been gone for the last few days!"
scene bg PSMHMuseumExhibit
show placeholder normal at left
show placeholder2 normal at right
with dissolve
"I can't take this argument anymore. I step into the room, box in tow, noticing that Marcus Tosh is facing away from the door."
"Viola sees me and gives me a genuinely shocked expression when she sees the box. Tosh doesn't seem to notice and continues bitching at her."
"I tap him on the shoulder in a decidedly un-subtle way."
"He wheels around so fast that one of his arms nearly hits me in the stomach by accident."
m "And what the {i}hell{/i} do you want--"
"His expression takes barely a millisecond to shift from unbridled (possibly faked) anger towards (definitely faked) relief."
m "M-m-mister Crowley! You...found...my..."
"I shove the box into his hands, making sure he sees the opera mask inside, with the Post-It note still attached."
b "You know, Marcus, the next time you plan on recruiting a patsy for your insurance fraud schemes, try to leave a less obvious paper trail."
"He makes no further attempt to sound innocent, and shifts right back to rage."
m "But you don't know anything! You posted your want-ad on a bloody BBS, I thought--"
b "My business practices don't factor into it at all. You're just a dumbass."
"I pick the mask out of the box and show him the backside."
b "For example...you probably shouldn't put your signature on your school art project if you plan on faking it as a museum piece."
m "But but but--"
b "And you probably shouldn't have had it on display at the college art museum, either; not if you planned on stealing it back from there to put on display at another museum the very next day."
m "But that bitch at the art museum wouldn't let me take my own piece home! She said something like..."
"He tries to demonstrate by putting on what is probably the second worst Judi Dench impersonation I've ever heard."
m "\"Any and all work submitted becomes the sole property of the Pacific Art Museum of Art.\" Like hell it is, I worked hard on that thing, all for some entitled geriatric to take all the goddamn glory--"
"I press the mask back in his box and walk away."
b "That's your problem, Mr. Tosh, not mine. So long."
hide placeholder
hide placeholder2
scene bg PSMHMuseumExterior
with dissolve
"I stride right out the front door, never once looking back at him. He doesn't say a word."
"As luck would have it, I happen to run into a beat cop out at the street. I flag him down."
show placeholder normal at right
with dissolve
b "Excuse me, officer? I think there's a big drug deal going on inside the museum."
"Police Officer" "What? You mean the rumors about the mafia connections might be true?"
b "...Wow, you heard about that, too?"
"Police Officer" "Yeah, from Irma at the diner."
b "Huh."
"Damn, that woman's madcap theories sure do get around. I wonder if she puts something in the soup.{w}..wow, I think I just sounded like her."
"Police Officer" "There's no time to waste, then!"
hide placeholder
with dissolve
"He pulls the Colt revolver from his hip holster, checks the load, and bursts through the museum door."
"I, for one, don't want to be around here when he starts flinging lead around, so I start walking back towards home."
show placeholder normal at center
with easeinbottom
"I don't get far, though. The cop bursts right back out the door again and pulls out his notebook."
"Police Officer" "Uh, sir, I didn't get your name."
b "My name? Why?"
"Police Officer" "The department offers a Good Citizenship reward for tips regarding crimes committed or in progress. Just for the records, sir."
b "Alright. It's Bastion Crowley. Bastion, as in \"Sebastion\" except without the \"Se.\""
"Police Officer" "And Crowley like Aleister Crowley, right?"
b "...Yeah, like Aleister."
"Screw that guy, anyway."
"Police Officer" "Alright. We'll be in touch later on. Now then..."
hide placeholder
with easeoutbottom
"He slips the notebook back into his uniform shirt pocket, grabs his gun again and bursts back into the museum door."
"I get back to my walk home, meanwhile."
scene bg Black
with fade
"A number of days later..."
scene bg BedroomInteriorFull
with fade
play sound "sound/phonering.mp3"
"I'm having a dream where I'm Hugh Hefner when I'm awoken again by the phone ringing."
"That's the second time this week. Sigh."
scene bg BastionsOffice
with dissolve
"I glance at the clock as I get into the front room of my apartment. 8 AM."
show Phone at left
with easeinbottom
stop sound
"The phone feels heavy to me, all of a sudden. Something sinks in my gut."
"Voice on Phone" "{i}This is the Pacific Southeast County Department of Justice. Is Mr. Bastion Crowley available?{/i}"
"Oh. This must be about my Good Citizenship reward."
b "Yes, this is he."
"Voice on Phone" "{i}This is a summons to appear at a county court session today at eleven-o'clock sharp. If for any reason you cannot appear, please say so immediately.{/i}"
"A court summons? ...Great. Something tells me that this isn't me appearing as a material witness against Marcus Tosh."
"It's probably about my being dishonest to cops."
"We'll just have to see, then."
hide Phone
with easeoutbottom
"I splash some cold water on my face and change my clothes for once."
"Since I'm appearing at a courthouse, I'd rather not look too dingy."
"Unfortunately, since I don't own any dress clothes (not since I quit going to church), I'm limited to wearing a button-up shirt instead of my usual white tee."
"I get going immediately. I'd regret it if I missed getting some food first. Court takes a long time."
scene bg CourthouseExterior
with fade
"And it all starts with getting into the court house. It, like all the interesting things around here, is on the opposite end of town; therefore, a bus ride is in order."
"I thankfully emerged from this one with my sanity intact."
"The staff won't let me into the building without first checking me for weapons. When they're satisfied that I'm not here to shank the judge, they let me through."
"I'm directed towards small claims court, room 34A on the first floor."
scene bg Courthouse
with dissolve
"It's quite a bit nicer than I had expected. Today probably just doesn't have a lot going on in case law, or else we wouldn't have this huge courtroom to ourselves."
"The judge himself doesn't have so much a large stand as he has a smallish lectern and a bar stool."
"No lawyers will appear for this session; I'm told this is pretty much a preliminary session to determine if it's worth taking me to a proper courtroom."
"My tax dollars at work."
show placeholder normal at center
with easeinleft
"The judge enters from the door at the back of the gallery. I hear someone ordering all to rise - kind of pointless, since I'm the only one here, and I'm already standing."
show placeholder normal at seatedcenter
with move
"He grabs his seat at the bar stool and looks over the papers in front of him. He's not young, but he's not nearly as old as Viola or that lady at PAMA."
"Apparently he still needs reading glasses, though."
j "Well...Mister Bastion Crowley."
b "That's me. ...uh, Your Honor."
j "Oh, don't worry about the formalities here. This isn't a real courtroom. I think we can see eye to eye on this thing."
b "I...uh...what thing, sir? I was only told to appear; I wasn't told why."
j "I should fire that phone receptionist. No matter...Mr. Crowley, I am told that you have been offering your services as a private investigator?"
b "Yes. ...I mean, yes, Your Honor."
"He makes an acknowledging grunt and looks over the papers in front of him again."
j "Would you be so kind, then, as to show me your investigator's license?"
"License? {i}What{/i} license? I'm supposed to have a damn license?"
"...is what I {i}would{/i} be telling him, if he wasn't a county judge, and if there wasn't a bailiff right next to him looking bored."
b "I...don't have an investigator's license."
j "That is a problem, then."
j "You see, Mr. Crowley, private investigation is difficult and occasionally dangerous work. The Pacific Southeast regulates who is licensed to practice."
j "You need only pass a written examination and a criminal background check to obtain an investigator's license, but you are required to have one on file before you may take cases."
j "The Pacific Southeast Code of Investigation does dictate that the criminal penalty for offering investigative service without a license is a fine of no less than 100 dollars."
j "Will that be cash or check?"
b "You've got to be kidding me."
j "Excuse me, Mr. Crowley?"
b "Er...Your Honor, it merely slipped my mind. Could I be let off the hook? My client turned out to be the culprit anyway. I'm not going to get any money out of this case of mine."
j "Not entirely true, Mr. Crowley. There is a certain officer of the law here that says that he recommended that you receive a Good Citizenship reward for this insurance fraud arrest."
b "The Marcus Tosh case, right?"
"The judge nods sagely and unexpectedly pounds his gavel on the lectern. From a door behind the jury's bench, I see a police officer emerging."
show placeholder2 normal at left
with easeinleft
"No doubt, it's the guy I sent into PSMH...except I'd told him that there was a drug deal going down, not an insurance fraud racket."
"Police Officer" "Hey, it's Crowley."
b "Uh...hey."
"What exactly am I supposed to say here? Good to see you again?"
"Police Officer" "Your Honor, speaking as an officer of the law, this upstanding citizen took the initiative and reported a crime in progress at the Pacific Southeastern Museum of History."
"Police Officer" "As the tip proved useful, I believe that Mr. Crowley should receive a monetary reward for his keen eye."
j "You see, Mr. Crowley, this complicates matters. I would ordinarily have let you off the hook since your services wouldn't have netted you any taxable income."
j "But the Good Citizenship reward is considered payment for your services by the PSEPD."
hide placeholder2
with easeoutleft
b "That's just a load of bulls--"
"The judge clears his throat."
j "You were about to say something about bovine byproducts, yes?"
b "I mean...that seems a bit...unfair, wouldn't you think?"
j "Would you have anything to submit to the court other than your personal opinion?"
"Here was the important bit. I did, in fact, have something of an ace up my sleeve...the testimony of a person I trusted. Kind of."
b "Your Honor, might I be allowed to call a character witness, a Ms. Antonia Travaglia of the Pacific Southeast Daily News?"
"The judge thinks for a bit. He eventually beckons his bailiff forth, and appears to be asking him if he remembers any reporters by that name."
hide placeholder
with dissolve
"The bailiff eventually goes into the judge's office and makes a quick phone call. He emerges to tell the judge that Ms. Travaglia is on her way, but it'll take half an hour."
"Recess is called until that time. I thought the judge had said that this wasn't a proper session. He even chastised me for being too formal, but that might have just been his \"I'm a nice guy\" card."
"I start thinking about Ruby..."
"All things considered, I like her a lot. She might be jollier than she has any right to be, and certainly seems far less feminine than society thinks she ought to be..."
"Hell, looking back on it, she's not bad-looking, either, if your standards are in the right place. She's not \"centerfold\" hot; she's more of a \"cute high-school crush\" kind of hot."
"But there's the thing...I've never really thought of Ruby as a love interest."
"She's almost the perfect foil to me. She feeds me the obvious answers when I'm too busy thinking outside the box. She asks the blunt questions when I'm trying too hard to be tactful."
"But even though she's seemingly a perfect match for me..."
"I just can't imagine her as a mate. Not even as a roommate."
"Something about the way her personality forms a polar opposite to mine. It's nice in a working relationship, but not so much for a domestic one."
"Though now that I bring it up, I honestly have to wonder if she feels even close to the same way about me as I do about her."
"It's...hard to imagine."
"Thankfully, I don't have to try that for very long. The door from the gallery opens, revealing Antonia \"Ruby\" Travaglia, sporting a pair of khaki slacks, a loose, white button-up shirt, and a dark vest."
"She doesn't have her favorite newsboy cap on. She probably left it at work."
"...I {i}think{/i} it's a work day for her, at least."
show placeholder normal at seatedcenter
show r normal at left
with dissolve
r "Heya."
"She waves casually at the judge."
j "Could you have a seat at the stand, Ms. Travaglia?"
r "Eh, sure."
j "There we go. Now, as a justice of the peace, I have no idea why Mr. Crowley has called you as a character witness, though I'm sure he'll get to that eventually."
r "Oh, like as soon as he quits daydreaming and staring at the floor?"
b "For your information, I'm trying to think about how best to ask this."
"This is why I'm not a lawyer."
b "Okay...Ms. Travaglia..."
r "Dude, what's up with the formal crap?"
b "Argh...you know this is already hard enough for me as it is, Ruby."
r "Alright, alright, sorry."
"She gives me a noncommittal shrug."
b "Well, I guess what I should be asking is this...would you say, in your capacity as...someone who knows me really well..."
b "...that it's entirely possible that I wouldn't know that it was necessary to have a license to take cases as a private investigator?"
r "Well, I sure wouldn't put it past you."
b "Uh...is that a yes?"
r "Yeah. You're all kinds of things, Bass..."
"Bailiff" "{i}(God, what a stupid nickname...){/i}"
r "...but you're so focused on the unlikeliest things that you tend to miss what's right in front of you. So...yeah, I think you forgetting to get your license was actually an honest mistake."
b "Thank you."
r "But you're still a dumbass."
b "Thank you, that'll be all."
"\"Get out,\" I try to tell her via ESP signals. It's not working."
"The judge disrupts my attempted psychic projections by banging his gavel on the lectern."
hide r
with easeoutleft
j "Well, this is settled then. Your Good Citizenship reward for tipping information that lead to the arrest of an insurance fraudster will tally up to no more than $100, cash."
b "Thank you, Your Honor."
j "However. It is the opinion of this court that an honest mistake is no excuse. Therefore, your fine for practicing private investigation without a license shall be no more than $100, payable immediately."
b "So...they just canceled each other out."
j "Precisely, Mr. Crowley."
b "That's it, then?"
j "One more thing, before you go...it's about your case."
b "When do I show up to give my testimony?"
j "You will not be showing up at all."
b "I...won't? ...Your Honor?"
j "Officer Lancaster, if you'd be so kind as to explain?"
show placeholder2 normal at left
with easeinleft
"Police Officer" "Well, Mr. Crowley, your involvement in the case would be considered suspect. Mr. Tosh's state-appointed attorney could use that against us."
"Police Officer" "If that lawyer's got any smarts to him, what he'd do is try to discredit the entire case by pointing out that you're unlicensed, therefore all your evidence was acquired illegally."
hide placeholder2
with easeoutleft
j "It's the opinion of this court that, if you don't want Marcus Tosh to walk away a free man, you'll stay away from his trial."
b "How will you present the case, though?"
j "Oh, not to worry, after Mr. Tosh was taken into custody, the police ran an investigation of their own. By the book. It gets better press, anyway."
j "This court is adjourned, in any case. Mr. Crowley, if you have any intention of taking more cases, I suggest that you study up on your private practice law and take the written test at the Department of Justice office."
j "You might not be too bad at this sleuthing thing. I'd just prefer if you did it strictly legitimate."
"The gavel strikes home, one last time, and all of us file out the gallery door."
scene bg CourthouseExterior
with dissolve
"After this little escapade, I really doubt I'll be doing anything else except sleuthing, in the future."
"I had fun with this. Even though I spent the entire case being unable to contact my employer and even got him arrested."
"It beats dropping off resumes and getting snubbed when I call to follow up."
"Just need to work on getting better clientele...preferably the sort that doesn't try to draft me into some crazy scheme."
scene bg StreetCorner
with dissolve
"I catch up with Ruby about two blocks away from the courthouse."
show r normal at center
with dissolve
b "Hey...where are you off to?"
r "Work. You know, that thing most of us have to do every morning."
b "You didn't get the day off?"
r "Did you trip and land on your head on the way into the courtroom? Since you didn't give me much of an advance notice that I needed to show up to your trial, I used my lunch break."
"I see her Vista Cruiser parked in the little alleyway next to Q. Q. Pizza. It's apparently a legal space, as long as you ask the pizza chef's permission first."
b "Look, Ruby, I think I owe you a favor for dragging you all the way to my trial."
r "Damned right you do. Get in."
"A thing I learned a long time ago about Ruby: if you've inconvenienced her in any way, whether it's your fault or not, it's usually wiser to submit to her demands than it is to argue."
play sound "sound/ksmarch-break2.wav"
"The moment I open the front passenger door of the Cruiser, I instantly regret it. I hear a pile of aluminum soda cans clattering as the door opens. I catch one as it tries to make its escape."
r "Just throw that in the back."
scene bg VistaCruiserInterior
with dissolve
"I clear just enough room that I can park my butt on the seat without crushing anything. I don't have a lot of foot room."
show r normal at left
with dissolve
r "Well, you managed to get me to skip my lunch break so that you could break even on a case that ended up being complete bunk. How would you make that up to me, I wonder..."
"Oh, great. She's got that mischievous tone to her voice, like a really bad dominatrix."
"...Wow. I'm suddenly really glad that she doesn't hear this inner monologue."
b "Foot massages?"
r "From {i}you{/i}? Ha ha ha ha--{i}(cough){/i}"
with hpunch
"She bursts into laughter so side-splitting that I can feel the car swerving a bit. She snaps out of it when I panic and reach for the steering wheel to keep the vehicle steady."
r "Dude, don't do that while I'm driving."
b "Geez, sorry for being a comedian."
r "Nah, you know what? I've got it. I want you to job-shadow me."
b "What is this, Career Ed class?"
r "It's simple and easy. I go back to work, you follow me around - at a {i}safe{/i} distance, mind you - and watch what happens to me. I want you to see the kind of shit I have to put up with."
"Oh boy. Another case so soon? I hope she doesn't plan on paying me...yet."
"I honestly wonder if this has something to do with that Albert character that she was swearing at over the phone a while back."
"As they say, only time will tell."
scene bg Black
with dissolve
"God, I need to eat something."
return
