Music From a Darkened Room

[Borderline]

"Will do." Im a fast driver so keeping up shouldn't be a problem.

[Silver Priest]

The Meadowbrook Store-It is a short car drive away. It includes about 50 large storage sheds, visible and surrounded by a four-meter fence topped with razor wire. A single, two-room trailer stands at the entrance of the lot, and looks to be the only entrance into the place.

Looking down at the notes they were given, the agents learn that the storage unit was not in Donnelley's name but a Mr. Felix Greene.

The insides of the trailer are cramped, and there's little in the way of furnishings for guests. A large counter takes up most of the room, and a balding, slightly overweight man sits on a chair behind the counter, his feet up on it as he watches a small overhead TV to the left of the the entrance. (Judge Judy is currently berating a plaintiff on it). A side door leads out to the storage units.

The man only reluctantly pulls his attention from the TV and back to the agents. "Help you folks?" He asks with barely concealed disinterest.

[HoneyDog]

“Hi” says Nik. “Storage unit of Felix Greene please.”

[Silver Priest]

The man-- his name tag reads Brian-- looks at them and gives them a smile that resembles a used car salesman.

"Really? Unit 2230, then? Well I'm afraid we have a bit of a problem. Mr. Greene is nine months behind on his rent, and the number and address he provided are no longer valid, so I haven't been able to get in touch with him. I've never met Greene either. The only person who's accessed that unit that I can recall is an..." he makes a show of looking through papers, "Here we are, Mr. Arthur Donnelley. Oh right, I know him, fellow who killed himself a few weeks ago. Tragic."

"Anyway, if you want access to the unit, you're going to have to pay the late fees. Along with the renewal fee and interest for all the back pay I'm owed. That comes to about... $1,500." The grin gets wider. "And I'll need that in cash."

ooc,If you decide to pay, I will need a luck roll from Nik.

[HoneyDog]

Nik folds his arms across his chest.

“Out of interest, what did you charge Mr. Donnelley to access Mr. Greene’s things?” he asks. “I mean, you’re willing to let us have them for a price. Are you like that with every storage unit in this place?”

[Silver Priest]

"I didn't give him access," Brian replies. "The night employee did. New to the job, he did not realize you don't just let anyone who shows up and asks access a storage unit, especially when their name's not on the lease and said unit is nine months back on rent.

"And please don't mistake my intentions; you knew Greene's name is on the unit, so I assumed you know the man himself. Are you implying otherwise? Because if you know the man, I assume you're here to pay the balance he owes me. I'm happy to square it up with you if that's the case. Otherwise, I can't help you."

[Mr. Handy]

"If you've heard about Arthur Donnelley's tragic passing," says Vanessa, "you know that he worked for the FBI." She produces her identification and shows it to him. "So do we. It's our job to follow up on this."

[Silver Priest]

Brian's smile dips slightly, but he quickly catches himself.

"While I of course want am a friend to a law enforcement, the fact of the matter is Mr. Greene has used my premises without pay for going on nine months now. I assume the bureau is willing to compensate me for all this? Please, give me your supervisor's number, if you would."

"Or maybe, if the FBI's alright with cheating a hard working small business owner out of his payment, maybe the media should be involved."

[Borderline]

"And you'll be able to follow the story from your jail cell if you continue to obstruct our investigation. Hell they probably even have Judge Judy." Changing my tone I walk forward and put a hand on his desk. "Or you can help us now and we'll male sure you get whats owed to you."

[Silver Priest]

OOC:   I think this is a good time for a persuade roll Borderline .

[Borderline]

ooc,thought so too but didnt want to assume :D [dice]0[/dice]

[Silver Priest]

The man looks deep into Chaz's eyes, clearly attempting to gauge how serious he is. Finally, he breaks first, and his smile drops completely.

"Fine." He grabs a key. "Unit 2230, fourth row on the right. But I mean what I said. If I don't get payment, I'm going to the media with this.." he looks at Vanessa as he says this, who he has seen the identification of.

The agents can proceed onward to the unit. The key works, and they find themselves in the large storage unit. Much was here, and it might takes hours to go through it all. But they catch sight of several things:

Several pieces of furniture, including two twin sized mattresses and a sofa bed, are piled into a corner.

Three containers marked with the yellow bio hazard warning, along with two gallons of gasoline. All of these appear empty.

Two bags of quicklime along with two shovels.

Four pairs of work gloves.

Three keys taped together in a piece of cardboard, unlabeled.

A box loaded with dozens if not hundreds of rounds of 12-gauge shotgun buckshot. Another box holds two new shotguns with the serial numbers filed off.

A set of various fake ID's, all of which are made out to Arthur Donnelley. Everything from medical examiner to an inspector for the local gas company, and all featuring the same unsmiling picture of the man.

A telephoto lens and camera, along with a set of 24 photos of a home at various times of the day. In some of them the house is completely visible; in others, it's so dark only the outline can be seen.

Several books on a table, standard notebooks of some sort.

A vintage fireman's axe from the 1900, worn down but still apparently quite sharp.

And lastly, a crumbling, four-foot-long wooden coffin, covered
in recent dirt.

ooc,Quite a lot to go through here, and not everything may be relevant. Let me know what if anything you wish to examine in more detail, but do keep in mind examining everything thoroughly will likely take more than a day. It's all up to you how much time you want to spend investigating.

[HoneyDog]

“This is pretty much what I expected. Standard DG collectibles” Nik says looking around.

“I hope to Christ there’s no vampire in here” he adds, eyeing the coffin warily. He looks at it more closely to see if he can open it.

[Borderline]

I give an uneasy laugh looking at Nik and hoping he's joking. As I move into position to help him "I could hold onto the camera, maybe theres more on the roll. I always develop all my own film."

[Mr. Handy]

"I wouldn't open that coffin," says Vanessa. "You never know. I think it's the notebooks we really want anyway." She picks them up and begins to leaf through them.

[Silver Priest]

The coffin lid looks heavy but it should be easily openable with a bit of exertion. A plaque on the front of the coffin reads ANTON TURÉ, 1957–1966

As for the camera, Chaz finds no further film. But the camera itself is top notch, and a new model. It's likely it was purchased within the last year or so.

Ever the investigator, Vanessa looks over the notebooks. There are several here, and in a sloppy penmanship that seems to get worse as they go along:

I'm putting this down for anyone who may come after me, who uses this green box for their own ops. Let's be honest; every agent eventually leaves notes like this. The unlucky ones, at any rate.

1206 Spooner Avenue has haunted my mind for many years. I grew up in Meadowbrooke, and we kids all told spooky stories about the “witch's house.” It was kid bullshit, none of us believed it as we grew older and became accountants and lawyers. Even when I entered into Delta Green and came face to face with things that would have frightened my very nightmares, I never considered it as anything more than folklore.

Tycroft's death changed that. Something about it did not ring right. I investigated the house, pretending to be a buyer to see if I found something strange. But instead, I found myself actually considering buying the Spooner house. These thoughts were so seductive, so alien,and yet coming from within me. For a few months I had to give all my banking information over to my ex-wife, so that she could prevent me from doing anything rash. Yet, like a cold, I was able to eventually shake it off. Things returned to normal, at least as much as they ever do. This has inspired me to write this journal, to transcribe my investigations into the matter:

A space indicates a new entry:

Sent word to A-Cell a few weeks ago about Spooner. They've yet to reply.


How much longer must I wait?

Someone else is buying the house. The UAE woman. I tried to warn her, but the look in her eyes was that of a zealot. It was my look. Could not be convinced, and I could not bring myself to do worse. I'll keep watch.

She rarely leaves the house. Spends a lot of money in local antique shops. Is she looking for something?

Dead. Suicide they say, but I know the house did it. I could have prevented this. I should have. A-Cell won't answer my calls, I'm going to investigate myself.

Can feel it's pull on me once again, but I need to resist. Cannot let the mirrors in.

The writing is now nearly ineligible, and Vanessa has to strain to read the last pages of notes:

Ture= not dead! Roaming the house? Lonely at night/Grave.

Shovel, gloves, cash?

Burn it? Crease tried, didn't work. Others.

Talk to survivors/ Canadian mental health laws??

Music from dining room/ laughter from (illegible) upstairs.

Someone else in house/ not returning calls

Tycroft death? Coroner?

Wheeler furniture/books, letters? Estate?

AX MAKES NO SENSE

Spoke to it tonight. It knows my name that I'm WATCHING it. Taunting.

Open house next week, must take action. Buy it/Burn it?

ooc,Vanessa and anyone else who takes the time to look over the notes can make either a psychotherapy or HUMINT roll, whichever is higher.

[Borderline]

Humint,against 70 [dice]0[/dice]

As I roll the diary around in my head I look at Nik with a nod as if to say "Are we really not going to open the coffin?" I steel myself for something horrible still wondering about different passages of the odd writing.

[Mr. Handy]

"No, we should open the coffin after all," says Vanessa. "It turns out to be relevant to this case. Otherwise, it would be better to let sleeping corpses lie. If there's even a corpse in there. It may very well be empty."

OOC,HUMINT roll (55% skill) about the notebooks: [dice]0[/dice]

[HoneyDog]

HUMINT,HUMINT 73: [url=http://orokos.com/roll/705307]HUMINT[/url]: [u]1d100[/u] [b]85[/b]

"Looks like I'm right about the vampire" Nik says. He grimaces when he looks at the dates on the coffin, but takes out a pair of latex gloves, and a spare for Charley.

"Give me a hand, Charley. Marchand, weapon ready. Better be safe."

He starts to prise the lid from the coffin.

[Borderline]

I glove up. "So" as I give a test pull on the lid "what do you think of the diary?"