Doors

That was nothing short of a disaster. Ninteenth century France and present day Las Vegas do not mix.

[As Javert. In frenzied, sharp handwriting.]

Ce n'est pas Paris. Je ne comprends pas, c'est quoi?

[Ink blots.]

Je suis un officier de la loi. This is unacceptable. [Heavily underlined.] Whoever is responsible for this, je vous promets, I will find you.

[Slightly blotchy ink, as from an old, possibly broken pen.] Been told to ask here about work. Travail, à Paris. Anyone got things they need doing? J'ai une porte...

[Comm to Bo Davis]
[Beep, dammit.]

[Email to Walter M]

Moore,

I need more information on the items the FBI confiscated from the inbound Delta traveler on 1/4/13.

Looking forward to your enlightening response,
Main

Paris is as I left her, I think. They say Rome's the eternal city, but I think Paris might have a claim to the title. She changes completely, and nothing ever really changes. It makes anyone question revolution -- how much can it really achieve when everything remains so much the same? Revolution ought to bring redemption, not greater suffering and poverty. Is there no society that can genuinely sustain the common good? Or are we all doomed to search endlessly for Utopias and find their names fitting -- nowhere.

I am a terrible radical. But an equally terrible law student. At least my German and my English are good (let us not speak of Latin or Greek)? Those are perhaps the most useful skills I possess, sadly. I should find my books and try to apply myself to my studies. The cafés are quiet today. Some wine and bread might ease my mind.

[As, simply, Javert. In crisp, black ink.]

Quelle folie ce que c'est? Words, not my own, appearing on the page before me. The ramblings of a madman, my fellow inspecteurs would say, yet my eyes do not deceive me. A door, between two worlds, and a key to allow passage-- it defies all logic, all explanation, mais il est vrai.

[A pause, the pooling of ink.]

I find it unacceptable that my time is limited by a man who cares little for the law, though he claims to serve it.

[Locked to Laura D]
[A link to a Willows floorplan.] I'll take downstairs, you get upstairs? Guests and overnights stick to each of our floors and that private staircase?

[Comm to Corvus]
[Beep. Beep. Beep. Until he patches her in.]

[Email to Walter M@FBI]
Moore,

It gives me absolutely no pleasure to inform you that your name just crossed by desk as my new FBI liaison for cross-organizational investigations. Who'd you screw over to get that job?

Main

[Call to Jimmy's]
[Ring.]

[Public]
Does anyone know why or have any theories why your headcase might change?

[Locked: Svetlana M/Charlie M]
Thank you for everything, again.

[EMail: Luke H/Charlie M]
[On their academy provided email accounts]
Luke,
I missed the last two days of classes for unexpected personal reasons.  Is there any way I can get the notes from you?
Thanks,
Charlie