"Lester, ma'am."
My partner stands erect, sliding his wide brimmed hat back onto his head. He adjusts his glasses without thought as his hand moves back down to his side. He turns and looks at me over his shoulder and gives a slight nod. I see my cue and step forward to place myself closer to the middle-aged woman who is asking the questions. They taught us this maneuver in Meny, the classic 'Distract the questioner so your partner can survey the area' move.She's craning her neck to try and get a look into the living area. It's amazing, the drawing power of blood and death.
"Malcolm, ma'am. My partner and I were called by a concerned citizen. Is this you ma'am?"
I follow my simple question up with a smile that flashes teeth. Not so much that it says she's an idiot, no we're professionals, it says I'm really interested in what she has to say. I see the reaction in her eyes. It's that sparkle that occurs when people see that you're sincere. She begins to explain to me that she is simply a concerned friend of the gentleman that was living here before someone spread him on the wall. I tilt my head forward in the 'I'm listening intently' manner. As the lady drones on my partner moves around the room observing the scene.
I've already looked it over once. The gentleman, Brett Corgan, has been staked to the wall like a giant T,wearing nothing but his boxers. He has been split from the navel area to his throat, and anything that normally resides inside the chest cavity has been take out and strewn about. No real sign of a struggle other than the couch, and it was likely him trying to kick his assailant off as he was being raised to the wall.
His apparent lady friend is on the verge of tears as I see the first SHIVER patrolman show up at the door. A quick glance gives me his name and rank.
"Miss O'Neil, Corporal Jacobs here will need to hear everything that you have told me. It is very important information, and he will record it for us to use so we can bring the scum that did this to justice."
The corporal freezes in the doorway at the mention of his name. When Miss O'Neil turns to glance at him, I deliver the 'You'll be compensated for this later' wink. The SHIVERS body language noticeable changes as he escorts the lady into the hallway and pulls out his recorder.
I turn back into the living area to meet Lester completing his sweep. His grinning at me. This means that he thinks that he has noticed something that I likely missed.
"Well?" I ask.
"The murder was done by only one person, but it was witnessed by a second!"
"Interesting. What else?"
"The cut was definitely made by an edged weapon, but the fact that the cut through the bone was so clean makes me believe it was powered. The murder was also likely committed by a prop that goes by the name of Intestinal Fortitude."
I spare Lester a grin. I know where he is going with this, and he's on the money. "Likely done by Mr. Fortitude, why only likely?"
"Easy, he's new to area, but his methods are getting him some good money by the local gang and shop owners. This of course is reducing the money the other props are getting from this area. Namely the two props known as Mighty Mac and Pale Horse. They're the two that had been getting the action in this area. I say it's one of those two pretending they're Intestinal Fortitude since he's not the one that did this."
"Oh, and how do you know he hasn't done this?"
"Easy, the killing cut was done by a powered weapon, and Intestinal Fortitude doesn't own any."
"Outstanding. Let's go get our felons."
Turning and walking out the front of the apartment door we stop in the hallway. As a couple of SHIVERS slip into the room to secure the area, I turn my attention to the corporal who is doing his best to look interested. He is failing, understandable as it's not his area of professionalism. The corporal excels at arresting perps and keeping the crime down to manageable levels.
I clear my throat and gain the corporal's attention.
"Outstanding Corporal Jacobs! You've found the witness to the murder."
The lady squeaks like a startled mouse. Her hesitation proves her downfall for as she begins to turn, the good corporal pulls out his pacifier baton and slams it against the wall in front of her. Cutting off her escape route.
"You'll find that the blood on her shoe matches the blood in the room, and the shoe fits the print in the blood closest to the vid."
The corporal roughly shoves Miss O'Neil into the wall and proceeds to apply the wrist restraints. The identification and arrest of the conspirator to the crime will show the corporal's good name by it. Fair compensation for distracting the lady.
Lester let's out a small chuckle as we begin our 'We have a murderer to catch' strut. The SHIVERS entering the hallway recognize the walk and make way for us.
Hitting the street I pull out a cig and light it with my trusty Klippo. Lester makes his standard 'those'll kill you someday' comment. I follow it with my standard of ignoring the mindless prattle and taking a deep drag. Looking around and broadcasting a 'I know you're watching me even if you think I don't' look, I step over to the passenger side of the FNM Duster and climb in. Lester follows suit by climbing in the driver's seat and starting up the large civilian automobile.
"Where to?"
"Well, Miss O'Neil mentioned that her and Mr. Corgan frequented the Flaming Bistro Bar a couple blocks away. So let's go a few blocks by it to The Dive."
"That's where you're supposed to be able to find Pale Horse. What makes you think it's him and not Mighty Mac?"
"Easy, Mighty Mac was on the Gorezone last night that occurred in Sector 23. He was working with the Krosstown Traffic there. Some of the kids and Mr. Mac got caught in the sealed off area when they let in the carrien from the sewers below. He survived, but soaked up a nice hit that'll have him limping for a couple weeks."
"There was no sign of limping in the tracks left in the blood. Hmm, I supp ose I should start watching the vid at night."
"That's alright, you keep going to The Pit. You've gotten us more than one lead out of your nightly carousing."
Lester smiles a smile that shows he is remembering his recent conquest at The Pit as he pulls away towards The Dive.
We pull up in front of a building that lives up to it's name. The Dive is a squat two-story building, somehow dirtier than everything else in the area. Some gang kids are lazing about in front of the place. Their blue and gold colors sticking out like nice little targets. As Lester turns off the engine the kids seem to gain life and interest.
I ignore them as I open the door and stand up. True to punk kid nature they somehow see my lack of power armor and gray hair as easy pickings instead of an individual who's lived long enough in this filth to get gray hair. I stretch with both of my hands up in the air above my head and grimace as I hear my spine crack into alignment. It takes a second to register, but someone is close by and speaking something close to Killan.
I bring down my arms, making sure to bring my elbows out wide as I do it to further stretch my shoulders. Something soft crunches under my right elbow and the broken Killan ceases and is replaced by a holler. I close the door and as I'm turning toward the entrance to The Dive, I stumble a bit and grab what I can reach nearby. With a solid yank I'm able to right myself, however I accidentally dent Lester's car with the face of my savior.
"Thank you good chap. I fear I may have fallen if you weren't so close by."
I display my 'sincere' smile, but only receive a moan in reply. Looking towards the entrance to the bar I see that the remaining kids have regressed back into their laziness. I shake my head in disappointment and wonder what's becoming of out youth.
Lester inspects his dent before making sure I'm okay. With everything looking good we decide it's time to look for Mr. Horse.
The inside of The Dive momentarily surprises me for it is somehow worse inside than out. Loud, poor quality music is pounding through the place. The only lights in the place are by the bar and by the restroom. There are dirty oval tables with even filthier stools spread around the inside. The glasses sitting behind the bar look as if they haven't seen water since the Conflict Wars. The clientele is sparse. A couple of drunks passed out in one corner, a kid and a prostitute in another, and a skinny, bald bartender in need of a shower. I'd also say some toothpaste would be handy, but the three he has left look as though brushing would dislodge them also.
Lester swaggers up to bar and orders a shot of 'Pure White'. I follow him up and take another look around the area for our suspect. The bartender sets down Lester's drink. The smell of it suggests almost a straight alcohol content. I wrinkle my nose and watch the drink eat away the scum from previous drinks that had existed in the shot glass.
Lester grins his 'Thank you but..' grin and slips a 100 unis across the bar. "Do you know where we could find a fellow named Pale Horse?"
The bartender seems to freeze for a second as he stares at the money. Without saying a word he looks over toward the single rest room, just as the door opens and the bad off-white body blocker outline of Pale Horse fills the door. Everything would of been cool if the bartender's eyes didn't grow to take up half the size of his head. Unfortunately Pale Horse had seen the 'Crap I just finked you out' look before and the bartender was amazingly good at it.
Pale Horse began to reach for the GA 47 pistol at his hip as Lester hurled the shot glass at our suspect. I knew what was coming and hopped up onto the bar. By the time Pale Horse had his pistol free and began wildly spraying rounds our way, there was a lit Klippo lighter bouncing off his armor. There was a small 'whoosh' as the alcohol ignited and a crash as Lester dove behind the corner of the bar to avoid the wild bullets. Not wanting to remain a still target, I run down the top of the bar closing the distance between Mr. Horse and myself.
Even though the flaming armor isn't a real threat to the armored prop, his human nature causes him to continue to fire wildly while trying to brush the fire off with his other hand. As I near the end of the bar I launch myself at him with my knee leading the way. With a solid thud my knee catches Pale Horse in the side of his helmet, right over his ear. The strike combined with my body weight crashing onto his head and shoulders area, sends Pale Horse sprawling across the floor. He crashes into a table and topples it over onto himself. I yelp in pain and grab my throbbing knee and role around on the floor.
Pale Horse howls a couple of curses and raises up above the table and begins to train his pistol on me. Between flashes of pain I shoot him a 'sucker' grin. One thing I don't like about these armored foes is I can't always see their expressions. It would of been nice to know if he got a questioning look before Lester's ITB Mutilator covered fist slammed home on the other side of his head.
Lester makes sure our suspect is down for the count and then looks at me. I stand up and stretch a bit, making sure to touch my toes and do a couple of knee bends. Fighting the throbbing pain I stand straight and let out a satisfied sigh. Lester let's a grin flash across his face that says he knows I'm faking at not being hurt. I've got to admit, the kid is getting better.
"Nice hit Lester. Let's drag him out front and give the SHIVERS a call to come pick the scumbag up. I'm sure we can match the power disc at his thigh to the cuts made on Mr. Corgan. Besides once they drag him in, Miss O'Neil will likely sing like a bird anyway."
I follow Lester outside, and adopt a 'Yeah we're bad' strut, because it's not as rough on my aching knee.
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