Elina (ilmatar) wrote in morningstar_mnr, @ 2010-03-22 19:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | susan |
Over several days during last week...
She had been walking home, when she had noticed something on the street, behind a trash can. She had stopped to take a closer look and confirm that it was indeed a brown purse of fake leather. She had looked around in case someone would have dropped it, but she had seen no women looking for anything nearby. Curious, she had picked up the purse and examined it, and found that it was definitely not supposed to be going to the trash. It had held a set of keys, a wallet, lip balm, a small mirror and other things that a woman would need in her daily life except for a cell phone. Also the wallet had been empty of any cash, but it had had credit and ATM cards and even the driver's licence of someone called Susan Jukes. She had peered at the ID closer - the photo showed a dark-haired woman who was apparently two years younger than her, and the license had been assigned in New York.
At first she had thought to bring the purse and its contents to the police, but then she had paused with the ID in her hand. Maybe she shouldn't be so hasty? A little digging would hurt no one; she would hold on to the bag just for a little while longer.
*
With new determination she had returned to work in the office that is never quiet. The Herald always had reporters writing stories and articles late in the evening to get them to the morning paper, so Robin Reed returning to her desk in the evening was nothing peculiar. After a few searches and a couple of phone calls she had gotten new information about Susan Jukes, but it was nothing special. She had found her address and she was sure the keys in the purse would let her into the apartment. But back in the office, the photo in the ID suddenly looked familiar to Robin.
She had gone to check the archives for the papers of the previous couple of weeks, and after some time of browsing, Robin had finally found the photo of a corpse of a Jane Doe published in the paper in hopes for anyone to identify her. The Jane Doe in question had died in a hit-and-run incident some two weeks ago, but no ID had been found and no one had recognized her. When Robin had looked at the photo of the bruised and deceased Jane Doe in the paper, and compared it to the photo Susan Jukes, she had come to the realization that they were the same person.
Susan Jukes had died two weeks earlier, and no one had cared, and without an ID on her body, no one had identified her.
Robin had sat down to for a while, tapping her fingers to the desk, and brainstormed.
*
Two days of detective's work later, on Sunday, Robin Reed had come to a conclusion. No one knew Susan Jukes was dead, and no one but her knew who the Jane Doe that had died some two weeks ago was. Susan Jukes had had dark long hair, according to the photos she had seen, and was almost the same age as Robin. She had moved in to the City not even two years ago, worked in a supermarket, apparently had no close friends and even her parents were dead. She was a complete nobody, and no one could connect the name to the face.
So why not give the name a new face?
This could be the key to Robin's big break. She had been doing only small local news, and reported mostly silly incidents and wrote about funny animals or something as uninteresting as that, despite her education at Columbia and over ten years on the field. She was frustrated, and desperate. She needed a big fish to get her name out there, and what was the one big thing in the City that everyone talked about, but no one really knew nothing about? The Morningstar Manor. Many reporters had tried to get inside and get all the juicy stories of the celebrities and big shots living in there, but no one had really succeeded. Natalie Chase, that skank, had gotten close, but now Robin Reed had the key to getting in and revealing it all. She was single, had no children, and was desperate to get further on her career, so she did not hesitate to grab this opportunity.
The following day the Morningstar Manor received an application for a maid's job, from Susan Jukes.