Who: Elliott, Thomas, Jeffords (NPC) What: Investigating a murder scene Where: The Steele family residence When: SUPER SUPER backdated to Jan 27th Warnings: Mentions of murder
DI Paul Jeffords was having one hell of a week.
One hell of a month, really.
Frances Steele, the head of the Steele coven, had died, suddenly, unexpectedly, violently (although that nugget was out of the papers), and the entire coven was in an uproar over it.
To be honest, their coven wasn’t the only one shaking in their boots.
It was disconcerting as hell that such a highly placed figure would be such a vulnerable target -- it felt like the Denby assassination all over again, and Jeffords really didn’t care for what that implied.
The Steele coven tended to hold their cards close to begin with, but there was no such thing as a coincidence, and the fact that Stahl was German for Steel was a bit too convenient, and so he, Walker, and (God help him) Rogers were going to see what they could see -- and, more specifically, determine whether the Stahls were wrapped up in all this mess.
He’d taken a few days to recover from his ordeal, and was cleared for a return to duty, although he had to admit, his supervisor’s insistence on taking Rogers along was a bit galling -- he felt itchy around the man after his display with the Stahls.
True to his word, however, he had gotten a new coat. So there was that, at least.
Elliot was trying to behave. He wasn’t always the uncouth barbarian Jeffords clearly imagined him to be and could clean up when necessary. As they were going to investigate the murder of a vampire lord whose last name was far too close to Stahl for comfort it would be prudent if he put his best foot forward. The Pinkerton was freshly shaved, wearing one of his better suits, and left his gunbelt back at the flat.
He looked almost like a banker instead of a detective. He felt naked.
Vampires with a bug up their ass always gave Thomas an even dour look on his face than usual. Still when he was told to meet up with Jeffords and Rogers to look at the crime scene and interview witnesses, he begrudgingly agreed. Not like he could do much else. It wasn't so much the company that he would keep, it was more about trying to find a solution to this mess that wasn't going to get everyone killed.
He just wanted to get his over and done with, but knew things had to be worked out delicately. Unfortunately these three men didn't seem to be all that delicate.
"People get.. twitchy when they talk to me," he said in between raspy usual breaths. "Either of you want to take.. the witnesses? This.. whole damn place .. needs to be searched."
Jeffords sniffed. “Wot, not in the mood to be diplomatic? Not that I blame you. I can manage,” he said, “although if one of you’d want to be present,” he added, a little stiffly, “I’m sure that would be fine.”
He looked over at Rogers, raising an eyebrow. The last time the American had taken the helm at questioning, things hadn’t gone particularly well, but at least this time, he wasn’t dressed like he was preparing for war.
That was the last thing they all needed.
“And who knows?” He added with a bit of a drawl. “Sometimes a little twitchiness keeps ‘em on their toes.” He shrugged a thin shoulder. “Although I suppose you’d be more than adequate on that count,” he added drily in Rogers’ direction.
“There a reason I should be twitchy toward ‘em?” Elliot raised an eyebrow in return. The universe had to be playing a joke on him, giving him a bloodsucker as a ‘partner’ such as it was. “Different occasion, different methods.” He wasn’t planning to go and wipe out the remnants of the coven single handed, though less vampires in the world could only be considered a good thing from a human point of view.
It wouldn’t do for the Stahls to get away with whatever they were up to. If they were crazy enough to suicide who knew what else they might be capable of?
He nodded toward Thomas. “Yeah, I reckon we can take the witnesses sure enough. You go ahead and start looking the place over.”
The ride over was a solemn one, and after they disembarked from the carriage, Jeffords and Rogers went up to the door as Walker went around to the side of the house. “Fair warning, I’m not certain how disclosing they’ll be inclined to be with you there,” Jeffords said, with a sniff. “Not that they’d know about recent escapades from the likes of me, but you are American, and human, and as such,” he shrugged. “Then again,” he added, with a roll of his eyes, “they’ll also not care for the fact that I’m from a rival coven, as such, so I doubt we’ll get much regardless.”
If Thomas were looking to scare the hell out of some folks, he’d be sure to do it. Not with violence, but just by threatening them to show what was under the mask. It rattled people. That’s why he wasn’t in the mood to be diplomatic. People couldn’t concentrate when they were too busy looking at his face. He was better suited trying to find clues.
“Just as long as they start talking, I don’t give a shit… what you do,” Thomas answered. He didn’t say much on the ride over. Not until they got out of the carriage. “Don’t think they’ll like.. Any of us.. Best to just get on with it.”
He went along the side, starting to look for the obvious signs that someone had been there. It didn’t take long to find sign of forced entry. Well here went nothing.
Elliot snorted at the byplay between the two Brits and shook his head as they walked toward the entrance. “‘Recent Exploits’ is it? I’m fine with them knowing.” The days of humans being at the bottom of the pecking order were at an end and he didn’t mind who knew. “If they don’t want our help in findin’ out who killed their leader then they’re dumber than they look and deserve what they get. Besides, what’s the phrase? ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend’? I think that applies here.”
“Hm,” Jeffords replied with a sniff, “I suppose that depends on whether they would be willing to classify you as a person who would be an enemy of a vampire killer, given said exploits,” he said a little flatly.
The door opened, the human servant who answered the ring pale, eyes red-rimmed. “Ah,” he said, his eyes sweeping over the two men. “May I be of service, gentlemen?”
Jeffords produced a card. “Night Watch business, I’m afraid. We’re here to talk to members of the household regarding recent events,” he said, “and provide condolences, naturally.”
The card was taken with a polite bow, and the door gently shut, and a few beats later, the door opened once more, and the butler gestured for them to follow. “Please, sirs,” he said, his voice low pitched, “this way.”
Thomas started looking around the outside, trying to find more clues. Footprints. Someone had approached and gone up to the door before looking around a bit. There were more footprints off to the side, to where there had been something sat there in the dirt. A rock maybe? The door could have been smashed open but it didn’t quite look like it. Something had been taken here. Hm.
Finally he went to the door, opened it up and went inside. And promptly scared the shit out of the maid who hadn’t expected anyone to be there. Oops.
“I’m… with the.. Coppers.” He reached for his badge to show it.
The maid, white-faced and clutching at her chest, took a few heaving breaths. “Cor,” she exhaled, “you gave me a fright, you did. Beg pardon. Thought you were sneakin’ in to steal some silver, or…” she shuddered. “Or commit another murder.” She crossed herself.
He bowed his head and then shook it slowly, “My apologies for.. Scaring you. I’m here to look around.. And find the killer.” He really hadn’t meant to scare the hell out of anyone, but he tended to do that either way. Since she was here in front of him though, Thomas thought he might as well go ahead and ask her some questions. “Did you happen to hear anything suspicious or out of the ordinary on that night?”
“That’s just the thing,” she replied, shaking her head. “There weren’t no glass breakin, nor scrabblin’ at the lock, and whoever it was got in and out without any one of the household noticin’. There were a full house, so it’d take some doing to not be seen by at least one of us, but there weren’t nothing. And the Steeles, they sleep awful light, and you can’t so much as drop a spoon down in the kitchen without one of ‘em hearin.”
That was definitely telling. Thomas pulled out his notebook and made some notes in it. “That’s very interesting. Thank you. I’ll have a look around now, if you don’t mind?” He didn’t want to intrude with this woman’s work or anything, but he was sure that he needed to take a look around. “Have you cleaned anything up from the incident?” Because if she had, then he would have to be more meticulous than he usually was. He was already sweeping the room with this eyes, to see what he might be able to see.
She looked worried, wringing her hands, very nearly close to tears. “I just cleaned as I normally do,” she said, “I weren’t thinkin’. I didn’t see nothin’ out of place, none of us did, I hope we didn’t do nothin’ wrong by it.”
Thomas shook his head. “Don’t worry .. about it.” He was really hoping that no evidence had been cleaned away. “You head on out for a moment, I want to look … around. I’ll let you know.. When I’m done.” He gestured for her to go towards the other side of the house, so that he could finally take a look around and figure out what she might have cleaned and if there was anything left behind. Once she was gone, he started looking for fibers, hairs, anything like that. There didn’t seem to be any footprints, but it didn’t appear they lingered very long here either.
The house was large, and it might be easy to get lost, but there were times when he looked around that he felt like the killer must have known their way around. There was no wandering around. There was nothing to suggest that they were looking for anything, or looking to rob the place. Interesting.
Meanwhile, Jeffords and Rogers were settling into the drawing room, which was decked out in mourning -- dark cloth covered the mirrors and tables, and the curtains were drawn, giving the room a muffled, stuffy, dim feel to it. They didn’t have too long to wait before a veiled woman entered the room, her complexion obviously waxen and worn even through the veil.
Jeffords stood, hat in hand, as she swept into the room.
“Gentlemen,” she said, her voice low and soft.
“Lady Grey,” Jeffords replied, with a stiff and respectful bow.
She sat in a wingback chair, the tall back dwarfing her slim frame, and while her face was that of a woman barely thirty, her expression belonged to a woman far, far older.
“You must find who did this,” she said, quietly. “Killing a Coven Head is tantamount to a declaration of war.”
“Lady,” Jeffords said as he sat, resting his hat on his knee, “we will most certainly do all we can.”
Elliot nodded respectfully to the mistress of the household. “We’re very sorry for your loss ma’am,” His soft Virgina drawl felt out of place in this ornate room but there was nothing for it. The Pinkerton wasn’t without sympathy for her in her capacity as a woman who’d lost her husband, vampires or not. “We do hate to intrude on you in a time like this, but we need to gather as much information as we can as quickly as we can if we’re to catch your husband’s murderers. Is there anything you can tell us about that evening, anything at all that stands out as being something out of the ordinary?”
“We had no warning,” she replied, her voice soft and even. “I was seeing to the last of my correspondence for the evening in the sitting room, as I usually am wont to do, and my…” she paused, and her fingers tightened a little on the arm of her chair. “My late husband had a habit of reading in our rooms in the evening. He found it restful, to have some time to himself. We didn’t realise he was gone until Saul and Zacharias took ill around nine o’clock, and the rest of us could feel… we could feel something was terribly wrong, but they were in such a state, it took us a few precious minutes to track down the source, and when we did, whoever did the deed was long gone.”
She shook her head. “I have been… wracking my brain for the slightest thing that could be of use. Our staff is all seasoned, and none have been recently dismissed, while our security is decidedly less than it was during the War, we keep the doors locked at night, and only family has the keys.” She sighed, with a fraction of a tremble in her voice. “I am sorry I cannot be of more help,” she said.
“Saul and Zacharias…” Jeffords said, quietly, “how are they coping?”
The lady’s eyes flashed. “Poorly,” she said, and her tone made it clear she would prefer no more questioning on that particular front.
“Forgive me for asking about family business ma’am, but have you and your husband had contact with any cousins from overseas in recent months? Perhaps some still feeling the effects of the recent conflict in my home country? I’ve been on the trail of several members of a coven from the south that went by the name of Stahl.” He watched for any sort of reaction from the Lady of the house, looking for some tell that might give a hint as to the truth in the matter.
Meanwhile Thomas was looking around and trying to make answers of all this. He’d been looking through things when he say a cabinet full of keys. Whether they were copies or just the family’s keys, he didn’t know. What he did know was that there was one missing. Just one. Like whoever had taken it knew which key it was and which door it went to.
Leaving the kitchen, he followed the trail up towards where the actual murder occurred, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Gone were any traces of fibers, or scuff marks. Nothing looked out of place at all. Maybe he should have gotten permission to go in, but he wasn’t trying to think that far ahead.
Looking at the door, he noticed that there was nothing to suggest that it had been jimmied open, or that the wood was damaged in any way. If the killer really did come this way, they just seemed to walk right in.
Lady Grey had stiffened in her seat. “They are indeed cousins,” she said, carefully, “as you might gather. They took on our older name when they went overseas. We’d heard the rumours that they were in town and causing trouble, but they’ve made no attempt to contact us, and none of us has caught sight of them since their arrival.” Her eyes flashed. “You’re not implying they had anything to do with this?” She asked, flatly. “I’ve no doubt Francis Stahl is suffering just as much as Saul and Zacharias are right now, God help him.”
Elliot risked a glance to Jeffords, just to get a feel for what might be going through the vampire’s head, then back at the noblewoman. “I can’t say for sure ma’am, but I can’t dismiss the possibility.” He chose his words with care, wanting to convey the gravity of his concerns without giving too much confidential information away. “I’m charged by my government to arrest him and the rest of his people for extradition back to the United States. They’re wanted on a number of charges, and we have reason to believe they’re trying to establish themselves as a power here.”
There was always a chance, however remote, that she was working in conjunction with them. In either case he wasn’t in the business of giving confidential information away. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask about vampires suiciding, but he decided against it at the last second. Jeffords was watching him like a hawk and the last thing he needed was a complaint sent back to Chicago about his ‘harassing’ a noblewoman in her time of grief.
The vampiress stood abruptly. “I’m certain you will take your pound of flesh for it, and if they are indeed guilty, so be it.” Her eyes flashed. “We are not harbouring them here,” she added before nodding her head and sweeping from the room with a chilly “Good day, gentlemen.”