Play@YSDC

It’s a fine, warm day with just a light breeze coming down the river.

Franky Esposito walks from NYPD headquarters on Centre Street to the Canal Street subway station and takes the uptown train to the 57th Street station where he bumps into Delores Brown. She has walked from the World-Telegram building on West 40th Street to Grand Central Station, descending to the subway and changed at Times Square to the uptown train, riding it to the 57th Street station. Together, they walk a couple blocks to 7th Avenue and arrive at the Carnegie Delicatessen together.

Dex Ford leaves Greenwich Village and drives up 7th Avenue to 57th Street, nosing his Model A into the curb a half block from the Carnegie Delicatessen and feeding a couple of nickels into the meter.

Langdon Vilas leaves the Metropolitan Bank & Trust building on Barclay and walks to his automobile. He motors along Church Street to Chambers and turns right onto Hudson. He picks up 8th Avenue all the way uptown until he turns right on 57th Street. He seeks out one of the new parking garages and turns his big Packard over to the uniformed attendant. He walks a block to the Carnegie Delicatessen.

[No one notices that the Carnegie Delicatessen won’t be built until 1937.]

Inside is a hubbub, a cross-section of Manhattanites – businessmen, secretaries, families, workmen, reporters, cops, chorines and actors – all with a short time to eat lunch or getting food to eat elsewhere. The first of you to arrive manages to snag a booth in the back. The menu board features a number of hot and cold sandwiches, various pickles and beverages from hot coffee to egg creams, as well as cheesecake and pastries. A harried waiter asks, “So, what’ll it be?”

[Go ahead and roleplay your arrival and orders and swapping the information you've obtained (or withholding it, as seems appropriate). I'll try to restrain myself to describing the activity around you and interjecting editorial comments. You've acquired a lot of detail and are still just getting to know one another, so don't feel you have to rush. This is your time, your game.]

I am simply overwhelmed and thrilled by the hustle and bustle of such a working-class establishment <OOC: it is working class, right?> It's a thrilling new dining experience for me. It takes me a while to find the booth with the others a table [ed.]...

[Langdon is the first to arrive and is holding a table for the others.]

...and when the waiter finally has a moment to make it back to the table, I ask "What's your most popular item on the menu? I'll try that."

I hold the door for Miss Brown and wait while she peruses the menu board. Once she's done I'll order my usual: pastrami on rye, extra mustard. Because I've had to spend all morning thinking about Red Hook, I decide that I deserve an egg cream.

While waiting for my order I find that I can't help whistling. Man,I love New York!

Dex will come in a few moments later, lugging his parcel of books and his trusty notebook. He will spot the others and settle into an empty seat. He'll order a corned beef, mustard on rye with a pickle, some potato salad, and a coke. He waits until the waitress disappears with their orders and he smiles. "Who wants to go first?"

"I'd normally suggest that ladies go first but I've not much to report," says Delores, "So why don't you tell us what you found?" She takes a delicate bite of the sandwich in front of her, raising a quizzical eyebrow as she waits for Dex's response.

Delores Brown wrote:She takes a delicate bite of the sandwich in front of her, raising a quizzical eyebrow as she waits for Dex's response.

<ooc - Delores must have gotten the tuna salad.>

The waiter returns with a large plate for Langdon, containing a grilled sandwich of some sort, melted cheese oozing out the sides together with a pinkish dressing, mingling with a warm potato salad and a large dill pickle. When he cuts into it, the inside proves to be meat and sauerkraut and swiss cheese. There's also a cold beverage of some sort, fizzy and transparent and slightly brown in color.

Dexter Ford wrote:"Who wants to go first?"

Delores Brown wrote:"I'd normally suggest that ladies go first but I've not much to report," <snip> "So why don't you tell us what you found?"

<I'd suggest starting with one bit of info you find most significant and then getting to everything learned, rather than trying to report everything in one go.>

Dex nods at Delores' suggestion and rests a hand on the books, saving that for a bit later. He flips open his notebook, and scans down the list of things.

"First off, as confirmed by a few sources, including the Joes at the local coffee shop who chatted with Mr. Hirt, our erstwhile employer, Miss Hirt, isn't really Mr. Hirt's sister. Every report has her being younger, blonder and in general, not quite the skirt who hired us to dig into Mr. Hirt's disappearance. I didn't think she was 'kosher' but now I am piqued to know who she is and what her interest in all of this is."

"Well, I certainly can't say that much of what I found will lead us to find Miss Hirt's brother - or whoever he is - but here is what I found." I frown slightly at the sandwich and decide it's best to keep talking so no one will realize I'm hesitant to take a bite. Though the soda is quite tasty.

"It seems that Palatine Hirt, who I believe is the father of Miss Hirt and the brother. Er... well, purportedly the father. In any case, he named a Robert Stanton III, his business partner from Connecticut, as executor of his estate and guardian of his children. Now you'd think he'd have given these roles to his brother Jacob. So did Jacob! He filed a suit to challenge the will, but dropped it after reviewing some financial records."

I finally get up the nerve to take a bite of the sandwich. The slimy, greasy, stack of meat and soggy bread, with the savory and tangy sauce and the sweet and sour pickled cabbage is somehow remarkably delicious.

"Have you tried this? It's fantastic."

"Sorry, I'd better not lose my place. So there's Palatine and his brother Jacob. Before the war, it seems, they had a falling out and dissolved their business, Hirt Frères. After this separation, Palatine joined with this Stanton fellow and did quite well through the war and even survived the Crash!"

"Well, all that's business and history, right? I didn't see anything that stood out as particularly salient to our task at hand. Except..."

I take a bite of the potato salad to make a point.

"I stumbled across a rumor that Alphonse Hirt - now I believe this is the 'brother', yes? - has been spending rather above his means. He's been living off of his investments and money from the Stanton & Hirt Corporation, and those both took quite the dip in the Crash."

Delores nibbled at her tuna salad and listened as the other spoke. "Everything you've said about Stanton & Hirt rings true with our records," she said, "And losing everything in the crash might account for Jacob deciding not to pursue Stanton for what he presumably thought was rightfully his."

She took another mouthful and chewed carefully. "I did find out something interesting," she said, "There's a Marlene Hirt working over at the New Yorker - perhaps she's the daughter of Palentine Hirt?" She plucked a folder photostat from her handbag and unfolded it, passing it over the table to Dex.

"Hmmm." I wipe the foam of the egg cream from my lips. It's not bad, just not as good as the ones in Brooklyn.

"What do you suppose happened to the kids, then. They'd have been, what 17 and 12? Our Marlene Hirt -- whoever she is -- said they didn't go live with Uncle Jacob. That may or may not be the case. I wish we knew for sure who this dame was."

Dex gives Franky an incredulous glare."I think finding out who our employer is might be a smart idea. I don't fancy doing someone's leg work for them if Mr. Hirt disappeared for a reason. Moreover, I don't fancy being someone's patsy if things go south."

Dex glanced at his notebook, then added a bit more information. "Seems Mr. Hirt has been interested in some Middle Eastern mumbo-jumbo and he turned these books over to a local bookstore. What did the book store owner say?" Dex flips a bit further in his note book. "Oh yeah, something about Middle Eastern history and cuture, including Mohammedan superstition and witchcraft, especially about Yezidi devil worshippers." Dex quotes the last part in his best mimicry of the bookstore owner's voice.

"Seems these books were some of those titles he didn't need anymore. They were all purchased from the same gent in Brooklyn, Kaynak Bilginin, 219 Washington Avenue, Clinton Hill, Brooklyn. There is some sort of writing I can't puzzle out on the book plate, but if any of you can decipher it, go right ahead." Dex turns one of the books towards his companions. "I figured if Mr. Hirt were interested in all these titles, maybe there is something in here we can discover as well."

"Oh and one more thing connected to all these here books. Seems Mr. Hirt was convinced some cult was active in the Red Hook section and these were for his research. Told the owner he didn't need the books no more and he was ready to jump into sniffing about the neighborhood."

<OOC Note: The book titles are as follows: Adventures in Arabia: Among the Bedouins, Druses, Whirling Dervishes & Yezidee Devil Worshipers by W.B. Seabrook 1927; Devil Worship: The Sacred Books and Traditions of the Yezidiz by Isya Joseph (1919); An Inquiry into the Religious Tenets of the Yezeedees by George Percy Badger (1852). >

Gaffer wrote:[The characters are very similar to Roman, but with a variety of diacritical marks, that aren't like German, French or Spanish, though similar. Langdon you're the only one who put any points in Languages, do you want the language the bookplate uses?}

[Actually, I did also, but I somehow don't think that this script is Italian...]

"Easy, Dex. Either she's who she says or she isn't. She's still paying you, right?" No way he can miss the subtle emphasis on the "you."

"We're meeting with her on Monday, right? We'll get to the truth of who she is, one way or another." I take a look at the books and debate about how much to tell them.

"About the Red Hook stuff... our guy's been sniffing around an old case... you might remember it from 10 years or so ago. Bunch of buildings collapsed? Disappearing children? Our guy has been asking around about it. One of my friends remembered him. The detective who was in charge of the case is retired now. I'm waiting to hear back from him."

<Yes to the language>

"Did you say Middle Eastern? I'm sure you all noticed it - after all you are all" casting a sideways glance at Delores, "paid to notice small details." I shake my head slightly, as if clearing a bad mood. "I saw that Miss Hirt, or whoever she may be, was wearing a necklace. The engraving was quite beautiful, actually, depicting the moon’s phases. The reason I mention it is that it, too, was in a Middle-Eastern style."

"Dex. If she's not who she claims to be, do you think that perhaps Mr. Hirt's researches into these topics have brought him unwanted attention from people of that culture?"

<Would Langdon know anything about Red Hook? Either from news reporting at the time or from his work for the city of New York?>

Dex nods at Langdon's comments. "The owner of the diner next to Mr. Hirt's place said he thought the woman was Middle Eastern more than being connected to Mr. Hirt." He snaps his fingers. "What if she is one of these Yizedee, the one Hirt was investigating and seems to be connected to this incident in Red Hook?"

He rapidly flips through his notes and then taps the page he finds. "Oh, and the book store owner said something odd, but it took a moment. He said that Hirt mentioned he thought they were trying to open a path to the moon, or something along those lines. Didn't make a lot of sense, but was odd enough that I was willing to write it down. Any clues? And I think one of us each take these books and give them a read through this afternoon. See if there is anything in here we can tease out. And maybe the good detective can visit the bookshop owner in his official capacity."

Private Langdon Vilas,[color=#8000BF]You seem to recall a story while you were at Fordham about a building collapse in Brooklyn somewhere that killed a bunch of police and gangsters. Dr. Beaton, your city planning professor, made a big deal of it as indicating that city government wasn't paying enough attention to the dwellings foisted on the impoverished.[/color]

Private Dexter Ford,[color=#8000BF]Something about an old case in Red Hook stirs a memory. Also, in terms of reading times for the books, you estimate the following: [b]Adventures in Arabia[/b] is 346 pages and will take you 6 hours (24/Library Use) to read ([i]modern and meant for general audience[/i]) [b]Devil Worship[/b] is 224 pages and will take you 5 hours (20/Library Use) to read ([i]fairly modern, but pretty mystical and obscure[/i]) [b]An Inquiry into the Religious Tenets of the Yezeedees[/b] is only 54 pages, but will take you 2 hours ( 8/Library Use) to read ([i]mid-19th century writing and fragile pages[/i])[/color]

Langdon wrote:<Yes to the language>

"Did you say Middle Eastern? I'm sure you all noticed it - after all you are all" casting a sideways glance at Delores, "paid to notice small details." I shake my head slightly, as if clearing a bad mood. "I saw that Miss Hirt, or whoever she may be, was wearing a necklace. The engraving was quite beautiful, actually, depicting the moon’s phases. The reason I mention it is that it, too, was in a Middle-Eastern style."

"Perhaps we were paying attention to what she was saying, rather than admiring her décolletage," replies Delores with a cutting look.

"I can check out coverage of the Red Hook and the missing kids," she continues, "But not until the office re-opens on Monday. Assuming that I don't get some tinpot story to cover, that is..."

Delores Brown wrote:"I can check out coverage of the Red Hook and the missing kids," she continues, "But not until the office re-opens on Monday. Assuming that I don't get some tinpot story to cover, that is..."

"I don't think it got much press coverage at the time. It wasn't... it wasn't a pretty story." I hope they can't see how it affects me. I need a drink. "The people in Red Hook -- back then anyway, I don't know about now -- didn't talk to outsiders. Cops, press, or otherwise. They're a tight-lipped bunch."

It just occurs to me that Dex wants me to shake down some bookshop owner about moon men and I'm considering it. Maybe I don't need that drink after all.

"Since we seem to be convinced that your client is not who she claims, how about we try tracking down the real Marlene Hirt?"

<seems like we want to find out more info about our client, about the real Marlene Hirt, and about Red Hook. How do we propose to do that?>

Langdon wrote:<seems like we want to find out more info about our client, about the real Marlene Hirt, and about Red Hook. How do we propose to do that?>

<I was waiting for some of the others to reply. I noticed the stoppage as well but figured people had gotten busy. There might be a couple of approaches to do: follow Miss Hirt, dig directly into Red Hook, and/or read the books Dex has, some one go to newspaper morgue to track down more of what happened, but I kinda feel we are overlooking an approach that doesn't directly involve wandering around the entire Red Hook district looking for our missing Mr. Hirt>

FrankyEsposito wrote:"Since we seem to be convinced that your client is not who she claims, how about we try tracking down the real Marlene Hirt?"

"I can make some discrete enquiries," replies Delores, stirring the coffee in front of her. "Perhaps I could tell her it's story I've heard and following up?"

OOC,Sorry for the delay - busy week, last week :(

"Well I am going to take these books and go through them over the rest of the weekend, unless someone else wants to dig into one of them. But if you have a better idea for my time, I am more the willing to take a look into whatever you want? Hell, if we knew where the fake Miss Hirt was staying, I'd be willing to put a few questions to her more directly. But I have a feeling we are going to have to wait for her to contact me. Reminding me of which, pardon me for a moment?"

Dex walks over to the pay phone at the back of the deli, in the hallway leading to the restrooms, and puts a nickel into the slot. He dials up the office, hoping Joe is in, or the secretary they have, checking to see if there are any messages waiting or if Joe has dug up anything.

"I'm pretty sure I can track down the real Marlene Hirt. Assuming she still lives in the city, of course."

While I'm waiting for Dex to return I ponder how much to tell them about the Suydam case. Damn it all, why did Zann dump this thing on me? It's bad enough I have to go dredging up old memories -- another shudder -- but does he really mean for me to drag these unsuspecting people into something like that?

Dex thanks his secretary and comes back to the table, rolling a quarter between his fingers.

"No news from the office, I guess, is good news. So where were we? Ah Mr. Hirt and the mysterious not Miss Hirt. I am betting some of the answers we are looking for regarding Hirt's disappearance are in these here books." He pats the top of them. "Unless someone knows why this mysterious section of Brooklyn is so mysterious? I mean other than the mention that something odd took place there a while back, what the heck would some cult be doing in that section of the town? And why would Hirt be involved in it other than morbid curiousity?"

There's just no way to get around this. This is on your head, Zann.

"About Red Hook." I look around and make sure that nobody is paying too much attention to us. "I know a thing or two. I was involved -- only peripherally -- in the original case."

I give them a second. I'm hoping all the while that they'll just wave me off, that it's not important, that it's not happening again. No such luck.

"I spent all day today reading the case file. What do you want to know?"

"Why not start at the beginning?" replies Delores, "And don't leave anything out." From her handbag she pulls out a notebook and a pencil. She flips the notebook open to a new page and sits ready, pencilled poised, to take notes.

Dex nods at Delores' comment and pulls out his own notebook and a pencil. Then on second thought, he pulls out a second pencil if necessary.

I take my good sweet time getting started. Do they have any idea what they're asking for? They can't know how hard this is for me. How in hell am I going to do this sober? Well, mostly sober. Start from the beginning, she says? Easy for her to say. I'm not sure I even know where or when that is.

"I was working a missing persons case when it all went down. I was a detective -- just barely had my shield -- out of the 76th in Brooklyn. Little girl was missing in Red Hook. She wasn't the only missing kid. Nobody was talking. Red Hook's like that."

I wipe the sweat off my forehead and look for the waiter. I ask him to bring me a Coca Cola. I get out my notebook.

"There was another case, a big one. Detective in charge was Thomas Malone -- the one I sent a telegram to earlier. He was investigating a Robert Suydam, a rich nutcase with a mansion in Flatbush and a basement flat in Red Hook. The subject was spending all his time and all his money buying crazy books like those. And, let's see 'studying the folklore, songs, and culture' of the Kurdish immigrants. Lot of them in that area.

"That's how Malone got involved. Suydam's relatives thought he was cuckoo, tried to have him locked up. Once Malone started digging around he found that Suydam's friends -- his new friends, not his old society crew -- were smugglers, gangsters, the worst of the worst. I imagine Dex put a few of 'em behind bars.

"They used to meet at this old decrepit church on Pioneer street, all the gangs. The place was used as a dance hall, too. Wasn't much the police could do until we got a report that one of the missing children was seen in the church. There was a raid on the church. Suydam's apartment, too. The girl never did turn up but we did find a whole bunch of occult mumbo-jumbo.

"Don't know if it was just a coincidence or not, but Suydam cleaned himself up after that. Started taking notice of his personal appearance. Started acting almost normal. Stopped hanging out in Red Hook and with his gangster pals. Next thing you know -- BAM -- he's engaged to some society dame. Gerritsen, G-E-R-R-I-T-S-E-N. Cornelia. The two were married in June and left on a Cunard liner for their honeymoon."

Now comes the good part. I motion for the waiter to bring me another Coca Cola, wishing he had something a little stronger to spice it up with.

What was it that Vinny always said, "No way but forward?" Yeah, I think that was it.

"Miss Brown, I apologize for the nature of the rest of this discussion, but the facts aren't pretty. The two of the were found dead, and I'm quoting here 'as if they'd been torn apart by a ferocious beast.' In their locked stateroom. And then it gets weird: a tramp steamer pulls alongside, demanding his body. He'd given them some papers authorizing -- begging for them to allow -- the transfer."

Getting a little too close to home, Franky. Almost done.

"At the same time, back in Red Hook, there was another raid. This is the one that everyone remembers, when the bunch of buildings in Parker Place collapsed. I wasn't in on the raid, but I worked crowd control after it. Malone was in the basement of one of the buildings; he nearly died. Next to him there was a body that was badly damaged to recognize. They couldn't identify it until later, after checking the dental records."

Now I really need a drink.

"It was Robert Suydam."

Private Dexter Ford,[quote][color=#0000BF]"Red Hook...Thomas Malone...Robert Suydam...smugglers, gangsters...bunch of buildings in Parker Place collapsed..."[/color] You remember something about that. You weren't involved in the case, but there were a couple of Prohibition agents killed in the collapse. No one you knew personally. They were investigating the smuggling aspects.[/quote]

Private Langdon Vilas,[quote][color=#0000BF]"Robert Suydam...mansion in Flatbush...engaged to Cornelia Gerritsen...married in June and left on a Cunard liner for their honeymoon...both of them found dead..."[/color] You recall hearing about it while in college. Possibly your family had some connection to the Suydam's; Cornelia Gerritsen was almost certainly some sort of cousin on your mother's side.[/quote]

Gaffer wrote:<I think everyone has touched on all that you learned, but there may be some benefit to providing a bit more detail to the others on a couple of topics.>

<I thought I pretty much rehashed everything I had learned - is there something important I'm missing?>

"Gerritsen you say?" I tilt my head and look off at a corner of the deli, mumbling to myself "Gerritsen, Gerritsen... OH!" I snap back to the group.

"Gerritsen! Cornelia Gerritsen was <ed.> a relation of mine, albeit not that close. But I'm sure I could ring her brother, Lewis <ed.> up and chat with him <ed.>. Anything we'd need to find out from her in particular?"

<edited because Cornelia was killed ten years ago. >

Delores' face goes pale as Franky recounts his story. She folds her knife and fork across her salad and pushes her plate away.

"Did they find out where the tramp steamer came from?" she asks quietly. "Could that be a clue?" She pauses and shudders, "Although why the whereabouts of two mutilated bodies should be a clue is beyond me..."

Dex looks up tapping his pencil for a moment once everyone is done.

"I do remember some Prohibition agents involved in the whole thing. And it does help fill in some blanks, but I am not quite sure I understand what Mr. Hirt or the mysterious Miss Hirt have to do with the whole thing. Unless Miss Hirt is a member of this cult and Mr Hirt is digging into what happened. But the question would be why? Unless he discovered some sort of truth behind this cult. Still...I am not sure all that information helps us understand what we should do next."

"Perhaps we should stick to what we know," says Delores, "Namely that Miss Hirt and Miss Hirt aren't one and the same. I suggest we talk to the real Miss Hirt and find out what she knows about her brother's disappearance."

Dex snaps his fingers. "Delores, the book shop owner where I got all these tomes mentioned that Hirt had a contract with some editor or agent about his book he was working on. This is New York City, but how many guys could there be that specialize in something outre like this? Weird tales, mystery cults, stuff from the pulps, et cetera. Do you think you might have a way to find out who the editor or agent that Hirt hired could be? That guy might be able to give us some definite clue as to what Hirt was working on in particular. It would seem if Hirt is getting finished with these books, that he might have been close to being finished on a rough draft."

He glances at his wristwatch. "The door man goes off duty at 6 or so. He mentioned that there wasn't a night guy, so I might do some things until 7, then mosey down to Hirt's flat and see if I can't let myself in. I am open to some company."

I very carefully ignore Dexter's comments about letting himself in to Mr. Hirt's apartment.

Fully realizing this could seriously jeopardize my career, but too enthralled by the concept of the hard-boiled detectives I so avidly read about, I clear my throat.

"ERmm... Mr. uh... Ford." I dig through my briefcase and pull out a blank building inspection form <Preparedness + (Bureaucracy or Law) spend?>. "It's certainly no police warrant, but if there's damage to Mr. Hirt's apartment that renders his occupancy unlivable, he is entitled to due recourse according to the law."

I can't look at Dolores. Her duty to the press, to inform the people, to report on the rampant corruption in the government... I was never one of those. Until now.

<Because this course of action - providing documents to facilitate Dex's less-than-legal entry of Mr. Hirt's appartment - goes against one of my pillars of Sanity (Those in power have a duty to those they serve) I'd be willing to take a Stability or Sanity test if needed>

Langdon wrote:<Because this course of action - providing documents to facilitate Dex's less-than-legal entry of Mr. Hirt's appartment - goes against one of my pillars of Sanity (Those in power have a duty to those they serve) I'd be willing to take a Stability or Sanity test if needed>

<ooc - As I read the rules, "violating" a Pillar of Sanity doesn't call for a Stability test, as violating the Drive or damage to a Source of Stability would. If I'm mistaken about that, I'd make the difficulty only 2. His action, though irregular, is in the interests of finding out the truth about Hirt's disappearance and research, which may be of vital importance to the wider public.>

Langdon wrote:Fully realizing this could seriously jeopardize my career, but too enthralled by the concept of the hard-boiled detectives I so avidly read about, I clear my throat.

"ERmm... Mr. uh... Ford." I dig through my briefcase and pull out a blank building inspection form <Preparedness + (Bureaucracy or Law) spend?>. "It's certainly no police warrant, but if there's damage to Mr. Hirt's apartment that renders his occupancy unlivable, he is entitled to due recourse according to the law."

"Call me Dex." He glances down at the building form and files it in his notebook after carefully folding it in thirds, like a letter to be placed in an envelope. "It might not come to this sort of subterfuge, but I do think if the police aren't going to use their powers to directly seek access to a missing man's apartment, then a concerned citizen could always just...see if the door were accidentally left open. But this document might come in handy...Langdon, was it? You know, you could just come along and make sure that we had a reason to be in the building. Gas leak? Boiler inspection? Rodent problem? Illegal immigrants...hell I'd even argue communists if it came to it. We'd need a good story if some beatcop took a quick looksee, but with a friend on the force, well that won't be much of a problem, now will it?"

He taps the top of his pad. "I could make an inquiry with my friends in the Treasury Department if it came to, but I would prefer to keep the Federal authorities out of what is a simple missing person's case. Admittedly an odd missing person's case, but calling in those favors aren't warranted just yet."

Delores places her hands carefully over her ears with a wry smile on her face. "I'm not listening guys, you carry on with your plans. I'll just turn up with a snapper so if it goes wrong, I'll get an exclusive." She pushes her food plate away, and dabs her mouth with a napkin.

She looks at Dex. "Books and papers aren't exactly in the same ballpark but I can ask around and see what I can find?"

Delores Brown wrote:Delores places her hands carefully over her ears with a wry smile on her face. "I'm not listening guys, you carry on with your plans. I'll just turn up with a snapper so if it goes wrong, I'll get an exclusive." She pushes her food plate away, and dabs her mouth with a napkin.

She looks at Dex. "Books and papers aren't exactly in the same ballpark but I can ask around and see what I can find?"

"Understood, but you probably have the easiest contacts to get in touch with someone in the book trade. I am sure there is someone on staff who might be writing a book, the next great novel, you know what I mean." He looks at the books then back at Delores. "I'll take a look through one or two of these tonight, but would you mind glancing through one of them? Your choice."

Then glancing at Langdon. "You ready to go give Mr. Hirt's apartment a quick looksee?" Regardless of the answer, Dex will look at the policeman among the group. "You are, of course, welcome to come along and lend some official authority to this caper. Unless you have something else you think should be done?"

With eating, talking, browsing the books and so forth, you've consumed much of the afternoon -- as well as sandwiches, cole slaw, pickles, some dessert and several cups of coffee. It's almost four o'clock. Outside, it's sunny and about seventy degrees. Inside, the temperature's a bit chillier, waiters and countermen giving you sour looks, since you haven't ordered anything except refills for the past hour and they want to start getting ready for the dinner crowd.

<Will each of you declare your plans for the rest of Saturday. Do you want to set your next meeting? Does everyone know how to get in touch with the others, if necessary.>

Delores pulls the books towards her and skims through the pages of the book on top of the pile. "I'll take a look at these tonight and let you know what I find." She turns and glances out the window before turning back and looking at the sour faces of the waiting staff. "I think we may have outstayed our welcome, gentlemen, judging by the looks we're getting. Shall we arrange to meet up tomorrow then I can get on with reading these?"

<will post tomorrow, jsut got back from vacation>

The man just can't take a hint. I tried to look the other way, but he insists on rubbing it in my face. I stand up, spilling half of my Coke in the process, and let him have a piece of my mind.

"Damn, it Ford." I cringe inside at my own coarse language. I'll apologize to Miss Brown later. "Maybe you've been private too long. Hell, maybe that's how you G-Men do things down in Washington. But it's not how we do things here, not it my city. You want to get in Hirt's apartment? Give me one shred of evidence -- something I can take in front of a judge -- and I'll knock his door down myself. Here in New York we don't go busting into a man's home just because his sister says we should. You know why? Because the last time I checked, not being at home on a holiday weekend ain't a crime. And all we've got is the word of some twist who you're quick to point out ain't even the man's real sister?

I can't see my face but I know it's on its way from red to purple. I turn my attention to Langdon. "And you -- you think about what this could do to your career? Or do you want to shuffle papers for the rest of your life?"

I sit back down, hoping that I haven't made too much of a scene, or at least that none of the crowd will recognize me. I need a drink and the remnants of my spilled Coke aren't going to cut it. "We're going to do this by the book, ladies and gentlemen, or we're not going to do it at all. If I hear of any mysterious break-ins or a 'surprise rodent inspection' at Mr. Hirt's apartment, anything hinky at all, and I will haul the both of you in and let you cool your heels for the rest of the weekend, savvy? I ought to do it right now and save myself the grief."

A heavy-set man in a white shirt and bow tie comes from behind the counter and hurries over to the table.

"We got a problem here, folks?" he asks, "Cuz if so, I suggest ya take it outside. I don't wanna havta call the cops, okay?"

He stands, glaring pugnaciously at the three men.

I laugh nervously and hide my trembling hands beneath the table. "No problem, here. Just got a bit heated, that's all."

To the other men, particularly to Detective Esposito, "Look here. You can't go shouting like this in public. I appreciate your desire to do your job and to do it by the book. I truly do. I suppose I got carried away with this investigation stuff. But you know, what am I to do? Here I am a city official, bound by paperwork and red tape and a swarm of politicians whose sole purpose in life is to get one leg up on the other guy... look, I'm just trying to do us all a favor, to do that woman a favor, to help your man here," I cock a thumb at Dex, "do his job and investigate this disappearance."

I straighten my jacket, clenching my lapels tightly to keep my fingers from shaking. I slowly put them on the table and stare harshly at the detective, "If you want everything done by the book, Detective, get me a copy of your book or give me some suggestion of what to do. I'm not a professional investigator, I'm a city facilitator. I help our citizens live comfortably and our city officials do their jobs. If you've got a task you need me for, here's my card." I slap it down on the table as I get up.

"Good day, Sirs. Miss." I give a brief nod to all at the table and begin to walk out of the restaurant, leaving a couple loose coins and crumpled bills on the table to cover my lunch plus tip.

With my back to the group I take a deep breath. Easy, Langdon. He's right. Don't lose your job over this. I know you're frustrated. You're always frustrated. You can't do much in your position. Not for these folks. Not for yourself either. Maybe it's best to let them go.

Dex waits for Esposito to finish his rant, but before he can respond, Langdon says his piece. He quietly takes a deep breath or two, and then looks at the detective as Langdon stalks out. <I'll use my Cop Talk for the following information. That and my relationship with Captain Boyd.>

"Detective Esposito, maybe you have a point. Just maybe I was pushing you to do something." Dex is calm, his voice deep, reassuring, but also with an hint of the interrogation ability he learned on working for the government. "I don't care about the rumors the force has about you. I don't care if you think they are true. I want your help, officially, and you keep throwing roadblocks in this investigation. Your past doesn't define who you are, unless you let it. Sure we all have things we would rather forget, but we either let them run our lives or... You used to be a good cop, but now they give you shit like this. I'll respect your wishes and do this by the book. But if someone dies because of this, because you are afraid to do your damn job, then I will make sure you can't hide this time around."

He looks at Delores and nods his head. "Pardon the language, Miss, but I am going to go after Langdon and see if I can calm him down. If you need me, you know how to reach me." He tosses a $20 down on the table. "At least our erstwhile employer can help pay for lunch. I'll find Langdon and give him his money back." He scoops up the money and heads outside to try and track down Langdon, tipping a finger to the brim of his fedora as he exits into the afternoon.

Dexter Ford wrote: He tosses a $20 ten-spot <ed.> down on the table.

<I've amended this to be closer to 1930s reality, but even with tip, it's probably twice as much as necessary. Franky or Delores can keep the change, or split it.>

Big tipper with someone else's cabbage. "I'm still a good cop, Ford. That's the problem." Talking to his back will get me nowhere, of course.

"Can I walk you somewhere, Miss Brown? I'm heading back to the station house to make some more calls. It's not easy finding all these 'roadblocks' I keep throwing up."

Dex races out to the street to see if he can spot Langdon. He can't be too far ahead, can he?
If he does, Dex speaks loudly: Langdon, wait up. Don't let the detective get to you. Do you still want to go and check out Hirt's apartment building, even if we don't go into his apartment? I am not much for one sitting on a case when the clues are there, staring us in the face. Maybe we will even stumble into this false sister dame and get the real scoop on who she is and what she thinks she is doing in all this.

If Langdon says yes, Dex will head for the subway and the nearest train heading to Hirt's apartment. If Langdon says no, then Dex will try to convince him to come along, but ultimately will head off himself. He will realize when he is on the subway car that he grabbed only one of the three books in his haste to leave the restaurant/deli.

Dex, you and Langdon both have your cars with you. Let's say you grabbed Devil Worship: The Sacred Books and Traditions of the Yezidiz by Isya Joseph. At 224 pages it'll take him about 5 hours to read. It's fairly modern in language, but pretty mystical and obscure in style.

Delores, that leaves you with the other two books. Adventures in Arabia: Among the Bedouins, Druses, Whirling Dervishes & Yezidee Devil Worshipers by W.B. Seabrook. At 346 pages it will take you about 6 hours to read, as it's written for a general audience. An Inquiry into the Religious Tenets of the Yezeedees by George Percy Badger is only 54 pages, but will take you about 3 hours to read, due to its mid-19th century style and fragile pages.

Franky, I'm assuming you don't want to read either one.

"I'll walk with you," says Delores to Franky as she picks up the books. Accepting the change from the man by the till, she heads for the door. She studies the dustjackets of the books as they walk alone the pavement. "You think that we'll find some answers in here?" she asks Franky as they walk.

<sorry. Had a busy weekend>

"Well, Dex. I suppose visiting the building can't hurt. It's not unlawful for a citizen to walk past a building, is it?"

After walking a ways, Langdon starts up the conversation again, "I'm sorry about what I said in there. I didn't mean anything against the police. I think the detective and I just have different ways of seeing our duty to the people. But that Dolores woman! Look, I don't take it personally, but I think she's out to get me. Well, not just me. She seems out to 'get' just about anyone she can! Did someone hit her brother with a car or something while everyone stood by to watch? Is there some story of a jilted lover? Her fiance ditch her at the altar? I'd be bitter if any of that happened to me. But boy, it sure feels like she's got a grudge against the world. I'd be surprised if she weren't running over to her newspaper right now to print a story about a crooked cop and politician breaking into some poor man's house."

"Answers? From those?" I think about it for a bit. "I hope not. But anything is possible in Red Hook."

I close my coat against the sudden chill, knowing even as I do that the chill comes from the inside. "I'm hoping to get some answers from some more mundane sources."

I'm going to call "Scene" at this point.

I assume that Dex and Langdon are going to their respective offices and will meet around 7:00 pm to check out Hirt's building and/or apartment.

I assume that Delores is going home.

I assume that Franky is going by the Hudson Street Station, then going home.

Correct me if any of my assumptions are off.

I'll cover the next couple of hours in private threads; then start a double thread for Dex and Langdon.