Play@YSDC

Grimes expertly maneuvers the large Ford automobile through the evening streets, the rain began to patter down again in a hypnotic thrum on the metal roof. The large engine purred softly as the five new companions began to consider what they had learned so far...

Grimes brushes away some non existent dust from the steering wheel. "Amanda, may I call you Amanda, miss Somerville?"

"You may have gleaned some bits of information pertaining the case than we uncovered down in the apartment. Both from prior knowledge as well as the talk with Mrs Pelletoot."

He purrs the engine and shifts the first gear in.

"Hector Hornley did not plan to die tonight. Someone he knew or at least trusted enough to invite for a late tiffing decided it was. With a vengeance. He has a missing flat-mate with the initials B.F. of smaller build than mr Hornley. Hector got his neck snapped and his eyes scoped out not with a spoon but with broken china. He was a student of literary art, most certainly. At King's College of Strand Campus. His interest in books is evident from his library card and a letter from a rare books store, Calloway and Sons at High Street, Oxford. So we have two locations to visit. Strand Campus, London and a ways over at Oxford. Now, Atherton, my chief inspector believes a second murder at The Isles of Dogs. This murder at the Dogs I believe is the primary site and this Hornley murder is the second in line as there's been talk about a bad smell for days from that address. Something at the Isles sent our brute killer to the doorstep of Mr Hornley. Something to do with rare books, presumably."

He checks back and forth to change lanes and presses the gas pedal.

"We did collect three burnt clues in the fireplace. A notebook, a letter and a libretto of sorts. A small book."

"So, Amanda - did you know Hector Hornley? Or maybe his flat-mate? Do you know what they studied at university? But mainly my prime query should be what did Mrs Pelletoot reveal of tonight?"

He turns and winks at Sam. "Old chap, have a glance at them burnt papers and see what you say of them."

"Well, you already have called me Amanda," says Amanda, "so you may as well keep doing it." She winces when Grimes describes how Hornley was murdered. "B.F. is Barnaby Fitzgerald. Mr. Hornley was a nice enough sort, but Mr. Fitzgerald...well, he's a wolf. He's drunk quite often and keeps odd hours. He's tried to make a move on me a couple of times, probably thinking that I must be loose because I sing in a nightclub, but I told him where to head in and he got the hint...eventually. According to Mrs. Pelletoot, he's now trying for a new bar girl at the Cock and Feathers. That could be where he is now. Both men were already living there when I moved into the building last year. I haven't really talked to them much, and I don't know what they're studying. After Mrs. Pelletoot recovered, she told me that she had heard a crash in the boys' apartment below, but at the time she had thought it was just Mr. Fitzgerald falling down drunk, which he's done before. But after that there was only silence, and she eventually got worried enough to check on them. She found the door open, and when she checked inside she found the body. She doesn't remember much after that, poor dear, but she must have been the one who summoned the police. I asked her what time she heard the noise, and she said it was about a quarter to nine.

"I may also be able to help with investigating the other locations tomorrow. I am a student, though I go to University College of London, not King's College. However, I can play the part and make discreet inquiries there. Nobody else here is really young enough."

Millicent gazes out of the window as the lights of the city testify to its vastness.

Millicent thinking:   Somewhere out there is a cold blooded murderer with a strange penchant for eyes. Of course he could be anywhere, even in daylight the city hides its filth well enough, but in the dark...

As she thinks she lights another cigarette, cracking the window open lightly to allow the smoke to exit the car. She watches the dim reflection of the glowing cigarette tip in the glass.

Millicent thinking:   Well it seems that the 'lovers tiff' angle has been laid to rest.

ooc,Airbornoxo's summary of our Drives is spot on, I think! Syrinx, I like [quote]He purrs the engine and shifts the first gear in.[/quote] etc.

Amanda said: He's tried to make a move on me a couple of times,

"I say! Miss Somerville, I am sorry to hear that," remarks Felix with more than a hint of passion.

"The Cock and Feathers may be worth a visit?" he thinks, he also notes with approval Amanda's willingness to help pose as a King's College student.

~

Felix says: "Ms. Broadacre, a penny for your thoughts?"

Millicents reverie is broken by Felix's question, she tears her vision away from the night view of London rushing past outside, takes a drag on her cigarette before winding down the window and flicking it away into the darkness. She half watches as it hits the road with a shower of red sparks.
"Uh...I was thinking how easy it must be to conceal oneself within the anonimity of the city." She closes the window against the chill November night.
"The, um, booksellers. Calloway and Sons I think they were called, I may be able to find out them from my publisher. Could save time and effort"

"Thank you," Amanda says to Felix with a smile, "but it goes with the territory. If I had a penny for every man who made advances towards me, I'd be quite wealthy indeed. Actually, I feel bad about all the hearts I've broken."

how easy it must be to conceal oneself within the anonimity of the city

" 'Mid seven millions he felt--alone,' " quotes Felix, and to Millicent he says, "The perfect place, I agree."

Listening intently to Amanda, Felix says: "As a confirmed bachelor and a man old enough to be your father I find your words disheartening, Miss Somerville, all women should be worshipped!"--he grins sardonically at his own words--"Today, my attitude excites derision and pity."

To Amanda, Grimes says, "Hmm, that seems plausible that this Barnaby mate is indeed at the Cock and Feathers. He will thus arrive at a home in disarray. The constables will deal with him. Even if it would be fun to do some masquerading, I'd wager we'd be in for a wait for the result. Probably best to just hit the book store..." He nods at Millicent "That paired with the letter ought to be leverage enough for them to cough up something useful. The library could be covered by Sam and Felix, right? I'd be along, of course. Then we can ask the professors at Strand what he was reading up on."

Grimes ponders some, "But first we should get to the Dogs. "

"The Slaughterhouse case, we save to those drinks we're missing out on now. No need to mix our facts up."

"On that, what do we know for a fact of this Hornley case? A - He was murdered at nine, by a strong man, or woman. He had an interest in rare books. Not just the kind you loan at libraries. A presumed missing flat mate - Barnaby. WHO can shed most light on what was going on with the books."

He steps on the brakes.

"That would put him in grave danger."

At this he puts the car in idle and rethinks their order of business,

OOC:   Lee, we'll let Sam read up on the books while you're away.

Millicent raises an eyebrow at Felix's inane comment, she would laugh at such unmodern chauvinism, but catching the innocent look on his face in the lights of a passing car, she decides to settle on a quiet sigh.

Echoing the detective she quips "To the dogs" whilst mentaly raising a glass.

Millicent thinking:   Mother always said I would end up going to the dogs, maybe shes about to get her prophesy fulfilled.

She wonders at the abrupt stop Grimes brings to the vehicle, but notes the look of concentration etched across his brow.

Millicent thinking:   Ah thinking, well it is dangerous to think and drive

"So, Detective Grimes, the Cock and Feathers then?--to rescue Mr. Fitzgerald," says Felix.

"Yes, dead guys wear pale all night." He makes a right turn to get to the other left side, back towards the boys' public house of choice.

"Thank you again,' says Amanda to Felix. "You are a true gentleman. Most of my admirers aren't as crude as Mr. Fitzgerald, fortunately. I often get notes and flowers from them. I daresay some of them do worship me and may have even fallen in love with me. Those are the ones I feel bad about disappointing. I have no problem telling the Fitzgeralds of the world off. All the same, I wouldn't want anything terrible to happen to him. If we're going to the pub, I'll need to go inside. I'm the only one here who knows what he looks like! Oh, and the murder was most likely at a quarter to nine from what Mrs. Pelletoot said. It is a scary thought that the killer could easily blend in with the crowds. You could be right next to him and never know it until..." She looks out the window, shivering again. "Do you really think a woman could have done this?'

The car pulls up sharply outside down the street from the Cock and Feathers Tavern, a modest establishment in a reasonably respectable neighborhood. The pub is still lively and bustling despite the fact that last orders had been called at eleven. That doesn't seem to bother the clientele or the bar staff who continue to let the liquor flow; normal practice until the local bobby gets fed up and calls for time.

A woman is bashing out a passable tune on the old piano in the corner. Her voice is nothing like as good as Amanda's, but the locals seem to enjoy the bawdy and irreverent lyrics. The five new acquaintances push their way over the the bar and Sam orders a round of drinks with gusto, finally happy he can contribute to the case!

Amanda describes Fitzgerald to the others and looks around the pub to see if she can spot him. "If he's not here, we might still be able to find the girl and ask if she's seen him," she says.

"W'ell sit over here while you ask him to join us." Grimes suggests. He brings two of the pints to the free table and waits. "No need to alarm the lad before we have to. Better he's seated when we tell him about... his friend." He seats himself to have a clear view over the back of the bar, covering the rear exit. He doesn't touch his drink.

"And yes, women are capable of the most fierce of acts. With a sedative and some tools, a woman could have overpowered Hornley and painted the canvas of a larger assailant. That and wearing too large boots to throw us off the track. It's a question of capability not probability. However, I still believe the assailant is a man."

Millicent snorts at Grimes' description of a weak female resorting to silly subterfuge to kill a man. "Men are so vain, and their simple vanity to believe their sex gives them some kind of imunity from being killed by some poor weak woman is probably there Achilles heel"

She pushes past the 'men' and takes a seat at the table.

Millicent thinking:   Amanda has all the qualities needed to make a perfect assasin of men, all she lacks is the bloodthirstyness. However it helps that she has the perfect alibi she was on stage during the murder.

She slowly scans the room, attempting to spot a man who fits the girls description...

Amanda quickly spots Barnaby Fitzgerald, making a fool of himself at the bar telling an extravagant tale to a couple of bored regulars. She points him out, miming a shudder of revulsion, before heading over to attract his attention.



He is in his early twenties, thin built and rather ugly. His expensively tailored suit hangs limply from his bony frame and he is in his usual state of looking permanently disheveled due to drink.

As Amanda approaches him, she hears him guffaw at the end of his own story: "...and the old Dean was horribly upset with me! He stood there whiskers still smoldering and expelled me from Magdalin on the spot, old fool! Daddy was dreadfully cross of course and cut my stipend right down, got me living in dingy little digs...frightful..." He catches sight of Amanda, "...apart from one little ray of light. Ah the angelic Amanda, you've decided to take my offer of a tipple up finally." He staggers, drunkenly towards her grinning inanely showing tobacco stained teeth.

"I agree. However, if a woman killed Hornely, she'd be forced to dress up in this case to appear as a large man. And in this case - brute force is a factor. Call me male chauvinist if you like. Tonight Hornley was not killed by a mistress over tea. We're dealing with real black coffee of a dock worker. In another case - certainly. In most cases involving either sex, it's opportunity and not force that is key element. In this case it's the other way around."