Tue Sept 5 - Franky

[Gaffer]

A brand new day.

[Gaffer]

After attending roll-call (and hearing his APB for Marlene read), Franky heads up to Marlene Hirt's address.

ooc,Hope you don't mind that I'm pushing you along a bit.

1288 Lexington Avenue near Central Park is a very classy place. Clearly more costly than Alphonse Hirt’s apartment, just for the location alone.

Danny Boyle is at the front door in a navy-blue uniform with gold epaulets, a portly, red-nosed middle-aged Irishman.

“Miss Hirt, is it? Now there’s a proper young woman, not like some a these wild ones nowadays. Very kind at Christmas, too, let me tell yez. She’s not been home in a few days. She has a number of friends out on Long Island who she visits pretty regular. Society types, y’know. Miss Hirt moves in very fine circles, she does.”

[FrankyEsposito]

I'm still a little fuzzy. Not hungover -- for a change -- just a little slow getting going this morning. I suppose that's why I'm not feeling real charitable towards Mr. Boyle. Or maybe there's something else about him. I pinch my nose in that way that Siobhan always makes fun of. Or maybe "made" fun of. She's not real interested in being around me right now. Way to go Francis. Put your foot right in that one.

"Okay, Mr. Boyle. Can you tell me precisely when you saw Miss Hirt last? Who she was with, what she was doing?" I scribble down whatever he says in my notebook. I also ask him about the car, the dog, any strange people skulking about recently.

I've already turned to leave when it occurs to me -- damned headache making everything harder today -- to ask him for a physical description of Miss Hirt. Will she match the real Marlene or the fake one?

"And tell me more about these people from Long Island. Names, descriptions. You know the drill."

[Gaffer]

Danny Boyle is clearly swamped by so many questions, most of them concerning things he's never really thought about much.

"Well, ah, Miss Hirt is about yay tall, I s'pose, not fat, but not skinny neither, y'know? She dresses real nice - nothin' fancy ya unnerstan. Uhhh... blond hair - natural blond too, not some peroxide job - blue eyes, real pretty face, always smilin' too. She parks her car in that garage over there, li'l red coop.

"I last seen her...uhhh... Monday night it was! I know on account she said somethin' about th' ball game that afternoon. She's a Yankee fan an' I follow those Brooklyn bums an' we always kidded around about it. She was just gettin' home from work, I guess, kinda late, but they kep' her late sometimes. She wasn't with no one. I didn' see her nex' mornin' but I'm busy sometimes with other things an' I don't see everyone every day.

"I don't know her friends, detective, honest. Just sometimes she'd be leavin' on a Saturday maybe and I'd say 'Big plans this weekend, Miss Hirt?' an' she'd say 'Oh goin' out to see some people on Long Island.' That's all I know, honest."

Boyle's sweating by the end of his catechism. "Oh yeh, dogs, I see lotsa dogs along here, detective. The parks just down the block there."

You can see an idea pop into his brain and he clutches it like salvation itself.

"Ya might wanta talk to th' building super, y'know, name's Pauly Rosetti. I only see Miss Hirt comin' an' goin' like. but he's s'poseta keep an eye on things inside. He's prob'ly in his apartment down in the basement. Y'want I should showya?"

[FrankyEsposito]

I feel bad, suddenly, for making the old guy sweat. He doesn't deserve to have me take out my bad mood on him.

"Easy, Danny, easy. Take a breath. Show me to Rosetti's office, if you would." As we start to walk I turn and give him a conspiratorial grin. "And don't you take any guff from no damn Yankees fan, you hear?"

When we get to Rosetti's office I'll hand him my card and shake his hand. "You've been very helpful Mr. Boyle. Very helpful. If you think of anything else, don't hesitate to call me."

[Gaffer]

"Oh, sure, detective, you gotta do yer job, I know that," he says, visibly relieved to be off the hot seat, "Pauly ain't got an office, but his apartment is B-1, down in the basement. If he's workin in the buildin, his wife'll know what apartment he's in. This is as far as I can go," he says taking your card at the door, "Can't abandon me post, y'know."

The lobby is not opulent, but very sleek and smart, lots of glossy gray paint and brass and oak trim. By the brass doors of the self-service elevator (key required) are a couple dozen buttons in several rows, each labeled with a number. There's no button for any basement apartment. Pressing the button marked 407 (Marlene Hirt's apartment) yields no results. There's a small card in a brass frame that reads: For inquiries, see the building superintendent, Apt. B-1. A door marked Stairs is nearby.

At the foot of the stairs are two doors marked B-1 and B-2 and a heavy door marked Staff Only. A knock at the door of apartment (from which a baby’s thin cry issues) summons Pauly Rosetti, short and squat with suspenders over a white undershirt.

"Yeh? Whatta you want, mac?"

[FrankyEsposito]

I let my badge do most of the talking.

"Mr. Rosetti, I need to ask you a few questions about one of the tenants, a Miss Hirt." I ask him call the same questions I did Boyle.

[Gaffer]

“Yeah, Miss Hirt is a resident here. Been here, what? two-three years, I guess.

"What's she look like?" He takes a quick peek into his apartment and steps out in the hall closing the door on the baby's wail, "She's a dish, pal, lemme tell ya. Like some movie star, blond hair, oh-so-kissable lips, an' a body. Oh, mama! What, I guy can look, right? Don't hurt nothin.

"She's been away awhile. Lemme see, must be a week now. Her friends? Do I look like i get invited to her sor-ways? high-hat types, y'know Park avenue an' Algonquin club. 'Cept fer the boyfriend; he's a right guy. Talks to a fella like a fella, y'know?

"No, I ain't let nobody inna her apartment. I don't let nobody inna anybody's apartment without their say-so. Yeh, that includes you. That’s a very nice badge, officer, does it have a search warrant to go with it?”

OOC,[color=#FF4000]You can try an ability to convince him to let you have a look around. You can also make a one-point Oral History spend.[/color]

[FrankyEsposito]

OOC,I'll make the Oral History spend.

[Gaffer]

Did you also want to get him to let you into the apartment?

[FrankyEsposito]

Did you also want to get him to let you into the apartment?

OOC,I have a couple ideas on how I might accomplish that. Wanted to see what the spend got me first.

[Gaffer]

“Yeah, wit times like dese it’s tough t’keep a place respectable, right? Boyle, th' doorman keeps chewin' my ear 'bout some Turks he run off las' week – big hero, right? He’s got th' wife all upset 'bout dangerous elements -- like th' Micks ain’t crooked enough, right? So she gets me up inna middle uvva night las' week, 'cause dere’s a car runnin' inna alley an' she figgers it’s a getaway car. Den the baby wakes up cryin' an' I gotta put my pants on an' go run em off, she says. I get up to th' service entrance an' there goes this red jalopy like a race jus' started. Bang! he scrapes th' corner at th' enda th' alley an' I gotta walk th' floor witha baby an' me s’poseda fix Mr. Hubscher’s pipes nex' mornin. I tell yah."

[FrankyEsposito]

I get out my notebook and pretend to scribble some notes. I fix a steely gaze on the superintendent. "And you didn't think it was important enough to report this?"

I shake my head, scribble some more notes, and look back at him. "You don't have any plans to leave town, do you, Mr. Rosetti. That's R-O-S-E-T-T-I, correct?" More pretend scribbling. "I'm probably going to have to ask you to come in for some additional questioning..."

[Gaffer]

Rosetti's swarthy skin pales. "Hey, hey... Lissen, I di'n't think it was a big deal. just a coupla kids neckin in th' alley, y'know? C'mon, Esposito, paisan, gimme a li'l slack here, 'kay? How can I make this square wit' youse? I gotta wife an' kid. I need this crummy job."

[FrankyEsposito]

Time to twist him a little more. "I don't know, Rosetti. If Miss Hirt is actually missing..."

I let it hang for a bit. "Could be pretty bad for you. Paisan."

I figure he'll be knocking down the door to her apartment any second now.

[Gaffer]

"Aw, Jeez, how could I know... Lissen, let's take a look up there, hey? Maybe she's even home! I'll get the pass key."

He's back in seconds, the key held high like a talisman to ward off unemployment. He practically trots to the elevator and presses the floor number. Esposito can hear him muttering Ave Maria's under his breath.

Rosetti jabs the buzzer several times in short staccato bursts. Quickly satisfied no one's going to answer, he twists the pass key in the lock and the door swings open.

"Aw, Christ. Aw, noooo..." the stocky little super sags against the door jamb.

Marlene Hirt’s apartment has been thoroughly ransacked. Drawers have been pulled out, books dumped from their shelves, clothes thrown from drawers and wardrobes. Letters and other documents are scattered on the dining table.

There’s no sign of Marlene.

[FrankyEsposito]

I take out my piece and make sure there aren't any surprises here. Once I determine that I send Rosetti back to his apartment to call it in.

When the uniforms arrive I give them the information and go looking for Danny Boyle to ask him about the "Turks" he ran off last week.

[Gaffer]

There's no one in the apartment. While waiting for the uniforms, Franky notices a few things.

On the wall of the living room is a frame holding two photographs, a man and a woman. A strange symbol has been daubed on the glass over the woman's picture.

Symbol.jpg (4.84 KiB) Viewed 1057 times

Locksmith: Marlene’s door was picked open by a pro.

Evidence Collection: There’s a chemical smell from the rumpled bedsheets and from a rag in the bedroom wastebasket. Under the rag and some tissues, is a matchbook from the Pioneer Street Diner (at Pioneer & Van Brunt, Red Hook, Brooklyn). It’s clear that Marlene’s handbag, identification, keys, etc. are gone.

There's a knock and a call from the front door, "Detective? We're from the precinct."

It's two plainclothes detectives, Rory and Donnelly. Franky knows Rory a bit.

[FrankyEsposito]

I nod at the detectives. "Rory, Donnelly. This is the APB from this morning -- Marlene Hirt. I spoke with the building super and he told me about a disturbance a couple nights ago. We came up to have a look..." I direct them to the evidence I've already found. "I'm gonna go have another chat with the doorman -- see what else he might remember. I'll check back in with you guys in a minute."

Before I go I take a closer look at the sign and copy down the address of the diner. "Hey, Rory? Can you make sure to take a look at the back of these pictures? Just a hunch."

[Gaffer]

...looking for Danny Boyle to ask him about the "Turks" he ran off last week

Danny's at his post and hot on the subject: “I can’t stand loafers an loungers, specially these foreign types. Last week, I hadda run a couple of 'em off three times, Y’know them as wears them Shriner hats. The beat cops oughta do somethin' 'bout these foreign types hanging 'round respectable neighborhoods.

"I found a couple of 'em hangin' 'round the service door innee alley. Now y'know they wasn't upta no good."”