Andrew "Drew" Kirke (aurorme) wrote in impetuousrpg, @ 2011-05-19 01:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | char: andrew kirke, char: mandy brocklehurst |
Who: Drew and Mandy
When: Wednesday Night.
Where: His flat and then hers.
What: Putting the pieces together
Things had been ... quiet as of late. A little stressful, what with trying to figure everything out with Mandy and what it was they were suppose to be doing to keep her safe, not just from Smythwick but also the Ministry. He knew very well her chances in Azkaban and he had no intention of letting her get there. For now, however, she was happy and he was content to let her enjoy it. What with that Entwhistle bloke helping out at the shop, she had a lot more time to meet the demands being put on her and therefore wasn't so tired from trying to do everything. Her being around more was certainly something he didn't mind. Naturally, that night, he didn't have plans to see her, which, of course, left him working on the case.
Geoff had sent over the new information he'd unearthed and Drew had spent several hours going over it with a fine tooth comb. Anything of importance he'd kept track of, letting his eyes and mind take everything in. He might seem like more brawn than brain, but that was all part of the cover. He was smart, particularly in the way criminals moved. He was relatively good in predicting what an individual was going to do, but with Smythwick it was different. Other than wanting the potions for distribution, Drew couldn't figure out what this random bloke had on Mandy to keep her tied into the ring. He was missing something and there was nothing Drew hated more than missing a piece to one of his puzzles. It was worse than a nervous twitch, at least that would go away with your anxiety. This? This was going to eat away at his sanity until he figured it out.
With a frustrated growl, Drew flicked the picture of Smythwick back to the table, letting it fall among the various other papers spread a cross the surface as he dragged a hand through his hair. "Merlin's fucking balls," he grumbled, leaning forward, his hands braced on the edge of the table. There was a connection. There was always a connection. He just had to find it. Mostly annoyed with his inability to see it, Drew reached for the picture again, his eyes taking a moment longer to catch up. He'd had the paper half way to eye level when the image registered. Frowning, he set the picture back down where he'd picked it up. It sat horizontally across the picture of Mandy, from a few years back. It was the eyes that had caught his attention. He knew those eyes and they'd been staring him right in the face for a while now. Picking up both pictures, his eyes flicked back and forth. There were a few brief flashes of memory from the last time he'd been to Mandy's apartment with her as the pieces began to fit together.
"Holy fuck," he muttered, realization starting to filter through. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Scrambling through the papers he glanced over the basic information. The dates matched. Smythwick started to establish his hold over London just six months after Mandy's father's sudden death. Grabbing the picture off the table, he moved to lock the door soundly. He wasn't going to take the time to put everything under it's various wards. Locking them out, however, worked just fine. With picture in hand, he apparated over to Mandy's flat, hoping she'd still be awake.