Agony's inquest.

Postby channe » Wed Sep 19, 2007 1:35 pm

She thinks on this, and shrugs. "... I dunno. I'd say it was somebody who wanted the land, but there's plenty of land to be had wi' the Pritchites and I hear tales o' it goin' up for auction. But he used to --"

And here, she seems to freeze. A hand travels to her mouth, shocked, and flutters there for a moment, and her eyes are filled with something like fear.

"There are people that would've -- maybe. He -- he abused people, ser, he --" and these are certainly stories they may have heard heard about Jan Baker as well, a good man, a good man, except when he got a little too drunk, but still, he's a widower, one can forgive those trespasses with the prostitutes --

"Maybe somebody just -- just couldn't take it anymore."
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Postby Lent » Thu Sep 20, 2007 12:07 am

McCoy started, finger raised, as if he was about to strike. "Did he ever.." Lentham's gaze, however, quieted him quicky. "Kurt. C'mon, don't kick me again."

Lentham smiled placidly first to his partner and then to Agnieszka. "It's not a bad idea. It'd fit in some ways. Just not a good idea either. Farm's a good way out from the town, good enough, at least. From what we could dig up, (and if you think some of the expressions you've seen on McCoy's face today are interesting, you should have seen him for that little investigation), he hadn't gotten a house call in a while. I tend to believe that."

There was another stretch of his head, and then a nice, big yawn. "For the record, correct answer's Cinnabar Calomel." And there was his excuse to drink, which he did, lifting the flask up in a toast before sipping. "The most frustrating fact of the last month."
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Postby channe » Thu Sep 20, 2007 2:28 am

Oh, well. This is just great.
How far would you go, Agnieszka Kaczmarek?

The girl is caught: despite her actions of the past few months, she still has something in her that won't let an innocent man hang in her place. Cinnabar Calomel, the man says; and the words are out before she can fix them, in wonderment --

"Tha's not Cinnabar's style," she says.
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Postby Lent » Thu Sep 20, 2007 2:43 am

"Oh come on, Miss Kaczmarek. This is a man who just decided he was governor, overnight. You know what he needed before that? Land. High Constable or no, there are certain requirements that one has to meet, see. Do you think the Council would accept someone, an outsider, when he wasn't even a landowner? You've met a high muckety muck or two, no?" Lent hated himself deep inside. He really did. Ah well, at least he wasn't enjoying this TOO much. He'd enjoy it a lot less if he could actually pin it on her, that was for sure. "And he's got a good salary, but enough to buy a whole farm at auction? Hardly, but having some advance information, getting it early from the Council at a lower price. That's something else entirely, no? Ok, son, time to shine. In one sentence, tell her your theory."

"Uh.. what?" McCoy had started to tune out again after the last time he was shut down. What was the point really? "Oh, yeah. Well, Miss Kaczmarek, I thought that maybe someone would have wanted to pin it on your brother Dominik as a way to discredit Bromn for taking him on as part of his administration, somewhat."

"Sure it's screwball on its own, but add it all up." Lentham opened his arms wide and smiled at her. "Amazing how well ALL of that would benefit Calomel, no?"
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Postby channe » Thu Sep 20, 2007 3:42 am

"It would," she murmurs, and the average person may interpret it as shock that Calomel could do such a thing, that --

-- and her head snaps up, and her eyes are wide. "Why -- tha' would be completely wrong -- Dom ain't nothin' but good. It sounds -- I can't believe it, but it could be true..."

I could let Cinnabar go to the gallows instead of me.
It's Cinnabar. He's a strange one. He'd find a way out.
They wouldn't hang me anyway. They didn't hang Ariane. They didn't hang the others --

"Why's this murder so important, anyway? Baker was a shithead cad. Why don't you guys look into the Swithin brothers, into the burning up at the upper cave --"
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Postby Lent » Thu Sep 20, 2007 3:55 am

And there went Lentham's smile. It was replaced by a very, very cool look at her. Perhaps he hadn't quite expected that reaction from her. "Oh, calm down, Miss Kaczmarek. It's not true. You know it's not true. I know it's not true. Even McCoy knows it's not true. Furthermore, It's absurd. But it's a good story, no? That's half of being a Detective, you know, making the story make sense. See, told you this would be educational." Apparently, Lentham was not overly fond of the quite used tactic of entrapment. Who knew?

"The murder matters, Miss Kaczmarek. It matters to me, professionally, and I suppose my young partner here, personally, because we were assigned to it. That's it. You could have had someone else assigned to it and they'd have solved it by now, or who knows? I wasn't assigned to burnings and caves and Swithins. If you have a problem with that, you can take it up with my direct superior when we're done, though you'll have to ask McCoy who that is, since I'm not entirely sure, myself."

And here, the smile returned, though there was a bit more darkness to it than before. "Where were we then? Ah yes, stories and motives and who benefits. Discounting our friend in the big office, do you know who benefitted the most, Miss Kaczmarek?" Apparently mentioning Cinnabar as he did, there, meant that he didn't need to take another sip. "You and yours, Miss Kaczmarek, right up until the point that undead bastard launched himself down upon you. It's.. a damn shame, you know. None of that would have happened if Farmer Baker hadn't been murdered. Maybe that's why the murder matters, Miss Kaczmarek." Somewhere in the midst of those words, his smile had disappeared again. Somewhere, McCoy had stopped rubbing at his shin nervously. Somewhere, Lentham's gave became very, very accusatory.
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Postby channe » Thu Sep 20, 2007 4:05 am

Lentham wants to play hardball.

"Mmmm."

Agnieszka stretches, now, her eyes looking at the cieling, at her hands reaching for the cieling -- she regains her calm, sitting in that chair as if she were at the Dagger, as if she owned the place.

"You won't find a single person on the farm what'll tell you the truth about who did it," she says, in a whisper. "Not a single person. The only people who don't know who done it is 'er family, because -- well. It would jus' 'kill 'em. And they're grievin' enough as it is..."
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Postby Glenn » Thu Sep 20, 2007 4:10 am

Lentham's gaze upon her was steady. Real steady. McCoy, to his discredit, seemed a little confused. It was hard to follow that last exchange and this one seemed to be starting off worse. "Hey, Kurt." He mumbled. "Come on, don't."

But it was already done. Lentham had slid the flask across the table to her. It was surprisingly full considering how much he had been sipping of it. The man knew how to pace himself, apparently. "Your turn to tell a story then, Detective Constable Kaczmarek."
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Postby Lent » Thu Sep 20, 2007 4:10 am

Lentham's gaze upon her was steady. Real steady. McCoy, to his discredit, seemed a little confused. It was hard to follow that last exchange and this one seemed to be starting off worse. "Hey, Kurt." He mumbled. "Come on, don't."

But it was already done. Lentham had slid the flask across the table to her. It was surprisingly full considering how much he had been sipping of it. The man knew how to pace himself, apparently. "Your turn to tell a story then, Miss Kaczmarek."
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Postby channe » Thu Sep 20, 2007 1:38 pm

She drops her head, and brings her hand to her forehead; she shakes her head, and soon it's obvious she doesn't want to talk.

"I -- I can't. Don't make me. You gotta understand -- it's so hard, it's like -- he was always at her door, he was always after her in the fields, touchin' her, askin' her things no man should ask a good widow-woman, y'see, he thought he could get her but she was over with lovin', she'd had it and lost it and just wanted to live with her sister, see, but ser Baker couldn't take it, he --"

She breathes out, and looks at Lentham with a desperate stare.

"She won't hurt anyone no more, she won't."
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Postby Lent » Thu Sep 20, 2007 1:48 pm

Lent looked at her nice and patiently. He scratched at a very slightly unshaven face. "Oh, pass me the damn flask back. Either you're lying to me or you're remembering a truth and you're a downright coward for not doing it earlier. Either way, I'd rather you not sully it with your dirty little lips." He nodded over to McCoy. "For argument's sake, son, why do you think it doesn't matter if she'll do it again or not."

"Justice, Kurt. And the law!" McCoy looked at the older man as if he had two heads.

"The flask, Miss Kaczmarek, now. I need it. Sudden headaches and all that. Your shin isn't even worth kicking, junior, by the way." Lentham leaned his head back shutting his eyes. "The reason is that we need to set examples at times like this, or else we'll have every shithead peasant out there killing the first farmer that copped a feel. You really want us to storm down to the farm and pull out anyone that matches your description, Miss Kaczmarek?"
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Postby Vanidor » Thu Sep 20, 2007 1:50 pm

Perhaps the Detective-Constables had heard the hullabaloo in the adjoining rooms. The various demands for someone to -stop- their motion through the headquarters that the constables maintained. Yet there was something about the man, and the way he moved through the hands and arms that rose to forestall him. There was something about the officer, the way he moved, the way he glanced at the constables and the way they whispered back in return.

Second Captain Jons Feul was no man to trifle with, armed or no, as it was in this case. A few that had stepped aside whispered to one another about his orders and deeds that had been done within the confines of the cavern that held the Order of the All. His decree that resulted in the cavern-complex being soaked with incendiary oils and matter, then set ablaze. The way the man had surged, almost unharmed, from a room that had been ablaze itself. It was as if he was more daemon than man. Yet...

A vitriolic glare at one of the Street Constables that stood before the room that led to where they were questioning Sister Agnieszka Kaczmarek. And the door, now unburdened with guards, would sweep open. A quick glance to ascertain the situation of the room. A quick dismissal of the two Constable Detectives. Then, his baleful voice spat forth.

"Sister Agnieszka Kaczmarek, your unit was supposed to depart for the Ringwall, and the Xanth Grange Gate an hour ago. And I find you here." Eyes darted to the two Constables. "Report to Fort Sumpter immediately and join Lieutenant Xanders, this conversation is at an end."

Just as easy as you please, as if he could order them about. Would it work? Most likely not, but there was an air about him...

One should always be drunk. That's all that matters... But with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you chose. But get drunk. - Charles Baudelaire


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Postby channe » Thu Sep 20, 2007 1:58 pm

Ah, Jons. Most of the time you're an utter ass.

Sometimes, though --

"... I don't talk t' people who talk t' me like that. Yer a little man, thinkin' yer little words can knock the truth outta me. You woulda done a lot better if you hadn't treated me like a dungheap; if you hadn't started swearing, y'see?"

And then she places her palms on the table and pushes up, standing.

"I will give you no name righ' now. The only way we've survived this long 'gainst Straka, 'gainst you -- 'cause you're Straka again, you Constables, abusin' the populace what is just tryin' to get along. You don't fix things like this. You fix things wi' action, see? An' now I gots to go an' do some action. To keep your bloody arse safe from mind-benders tha' can kill you soon's look at you. Yessir," she says loudly, that final bit for Jons.

Or for the theatrical nature of the whole bit.
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Postby Lent » Thu Sep 20, 2007 2:06 pm

"That's all well and good, Miss Kaczmarek." Lentham drawled. Meanwhile, McCoy was up on his feet, and yes his sword was drawn. The Detective Constable, on the other hand, was still sitting, though he seemed a little impressed with his partner. Braver a fool than he figured.

Of course, there were stories about just how brave Kurt Lentham had been at Haberdasher's Row. Unfortunately (or perhaps quite fortunately), he was a very different man then, wasn't he.

FINALLY, he rose, still letting those last words hang. He was up and around the table, lifting the flask up and drinking from it liberally. After a deep exhale, he decided to speak on. "But I'm just a man doing my job. I'm not the shithead who stabbed a man with a kitchen knife and in doing so brought doom down upon her family. Anyhow, here's what my job tells me I have to do next. I have to go down to that farm, round up all the widows, sit them in this selfsame room and tell them what you told me, and we'll see if we can get to the bottom of all of this. So, Miss Kaczmarek, I'm afraid I just don't have time to stay and brawl. McCoy. Put that away, little soldier. We've got work to do. The unpleasant sort." One last nod to Agnie, even as he toasted her with his flask. "You go and keep us safe, Sister Kaczmarek. If you happen to remember anything else, I'm sure I have a desk SOMEWHERE around here."
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Postby Vanidor » Thu Sep 20, 2007 2:44 pm

Jons had been there as well. Haberdasher's Row. Indeed, he'd been the man that led the force of pike that had been the anvil to Aeryn's hammer of horse. There was a flash of recognition for Kurt Lentham when he'd stepped into the room. And as he spoke, there was the shadow of a smile that flickered across the Second Captain's features. His eyes, small and dark and mischievous, swept over the two after Agnieszka rose and made her agreement known.

"Pardon the interruption, Constables. Good luck on your hunt, wherever it leads too. Perhaps, if Sister Kaczmarek, or myself for that matter, survive the coming crisis, we can all share a round of drinks." Again, that ghost of a smile, and a sort of bow (this from the waist and deeper than such a man should ever make) towards Kurt. "We are all men of duty. A heavy thing, only to be put down when we die. Good day."

And, unless aught was done to impede his progress, Jons Feul would turn about on his heel and saunter towards the exit of the constables office. This would surely turn into a shit storm, but things had to be done.

One should always be drunk. That's all that matters... But with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you chose. But get drunk. - Charles Baudelaire


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