6.30pm Thursday 11th March 2010, High Wycombe, Buckinghamshire, England.
A five-year old girl, Regina Balfour, is kidnapped in broad daylight from the Eden Shopping Centre, while her mother’s back is momentarily turned. Left behind is her ladybird shaped backpack, which contained supplies for her insulin pump. She needs her medication to live more than a few days, and her condition will rapidly deteriorate without it...
"Do you want us to join you?" asks Jocelyn. "Our testimony could be useful. I don't think Louise is going anywhere for some hours yet, so we could lift the surveillance for now. Save some of that deodorant for me. I'm sure I must smell after that all-night stakeout."
"Actually, unless you think me absolutely necessary, I would rather stay here." Simon insists. "We should not let Louise out of our sight. And if an opportunity presents itself to get her alone, I will confront her. Better we not put all our eggs in one basket."
"We'll let Kris decide if you should stay here," says Jocelyn. "Don't confront her alone unless you're certain, and be careful. She's dangerous, and she has dangerous friends."
From his internet research, Simon couldn't find any evidence of specific threats against the Church of the Passover Angel. Far from it. There's actually quite a buzz around it with all the attention from Regina's kidnapping. There's a strong theme of religious persecution in much of the media coverage, particularly from GNS news, and a lot of people have reacted angrily to Regina being taken into care. There's definitely a prurient fascination with the church's apocalyptic prophecies and it looks like the church is going to have a fair few gawkers turning up to see what happens tonight. GNS news are promising to report live from the scene.
Once Kris and Jocelyn have left, Simon finds a sort of café across the road from the nail bar. It's a strange combination of greasy spoon café, with peeling laminate tables and metal foldable chairs, with a middle eastern cake shop selling baklava and other treats. From here he can observe the nail bar without being particularly obvious himself.
But there's not much going on. Customers start arriving at the nail bar, office workers sneaking in a manicure on the way to work, mums with pushchairs treating themselves, a few women Simon is pretty sure are prostitutes.
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Jocelyn and Kris wind through the rush hour traffic to eventually crawl into Bromley. After the usual ritual of trying to find somewhere to park they pop into Sainsburys to buy some deodorant and toothpaste to try and freshen up in the bathrooms. Traipsing round the corner to Bromley County Court they find a surprisingly large court complex housing the county court and the family courts for this part of London.
There's quite a few people milling around outside. Unlike the Magistrates and Crown Courts that Kris is used to, with the defendants in their ill-fitting suits, barristers in their gowns, there's a mixture of people from all walks of life. Some are definitely solicitors and there's a youngish looking blonde white woman in trouser suit standing to one side, she's drawing anxiously on a cigarette and clutching a folder of papers. She's looking up and down the street and when she catches sight of Kris and Jocelyn she gestures to them.
Everyone roll CON to see how you feel after a night of reduced and disturbed sleep
Although he’d washed, brushed his hair and applied some dubiously metrosexual aftershave sample he’d found stuck to a copy of GQ magazine, Kris was feeling less than chipper. Sleeping in the car had been less that ideal, and he had to stifle a yawn as he introduced himself.
“DC Kris Sapru,” he said. “Err… Thames Valley CID.”
Last edited by Philulhu on Fri Feb 16, 2024 10:19 am, edited 1 time in total.
Jocelyn is bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in spite of the all-night stakeout. She smells better after the deodorant and brushing her teeth - and her nails look good to boot. "Jocelyn Leigh, MI5," she says, approaching with her hand extended. "I'm consulting with the police on the case."
OOC: Finally got Simon a picture. Only took me five years
1d100
Despite his nap, Simon hates the world and everything in it. GNS painting Balfour as some kind of victim in all of this only irritates him further. But they'd all learn soon enough, and he'd be the one the public would love-- Dr. Simon Eagleton, the man who stopped a major terror attack and saved a little girl's life. He could almost taste the accolades.
He settles in for yet another uncomfortable stakeout, buying whatever seemed edible off the menu. A shame the others had run off on their fool errand, leaving him to do the work as per usual. But he'd make the best of it. Once Louise was alone she and him would have a little talk, and he was quite certain he could get her to see reason. A mother's love was a powerful thing, and something he knew well how to exploit given his clinical training. Far more than a jumped up huckster with messianic delusions of grander.
Taking one look at Kris's stubbly, haggard appearance, with the sharp stench of his aftershave hanging in the air, the young woman turns straight to Jocelyn, who is admittedly looking rather more the part of serious law enforcement officer. She holds out a hand limply to Jocelyn,
'Uh, hello Miss, um, Officer Leigh...look, um, I don't usually do these sorts of cases. Um, so, uh, what are the grounds for the Emergency Protection Order?' She takes out a notebook which she drops onto the floor, fumbling around to pick it up before opening it up and taking a pencil out from behind her ear. 'We need something pretty big to justify not serving notice on the mother. My boss mentioned something about human sacrifice...' She wrinkles up her nose as she says this.
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The fug of fatigue hovers over Simon's head like a cloud of depression. His thinking seems fuzzier and less sharp than usual. But still sharp enough for this task he thinks to himself. The coffee is bitter and the food worse, and he sits by the window cradling something between a hangover and a grudge, watching the comings and goings of Get Nailed! across the road. The nail bar is surprisingly busy throughout the early morning, and Simon suspects there might be more than just nails being painted watching the clientele come and go. Things start to thin out in the run up to lunchtime.
I think that might need a Luck roll to see if the nail bar empties out.
For those of you who are fatigued that might come and bite you later with maybe a few rolls with a penalty die.
"It is a complicated case," says Jocelyn. "Louise Hayman is a member of a doomsday cult led by Reverend Balfour. Balfour's daughter Regina was recently abducted, and we were part of the team that rescued her. Her kidnapper was a social worker who believed that Balfour was planning to sacrifice his daughter tonight in an imitation of Abraham's offering of Isaac, and that if she could hold onto her past Balfour's announced doomsday date of tonight, she could prevent it. From the evidence we recovered and our interviews with the child herself, we have found this assessment to be accurate. We have already been granted an order to keep her away from her father.
"However, Balfour is not just going to give up on this. He still plans to go ahead with his ceremony tonight, and we have reason to believe that he has recruited Louise Hayman to provide her daughter as the sacrifice in Regina's place. We have been keeping her under surveillance, and during that time she has been in the company of a known criminal. Her daughter is currently in school, but Louise has taken her backpack with her to work today. We believe she plans to take her directly from school to the ceremony tonight. We're running out of time, but we only need to keep her daughter from her for 24 hours. After that, Balfour's predicted doomsday date will have passed."
About 12.30 someone pulls down the blinds of Get Nailed! and turns around the sign in the door to say closed. The receptionist and the other young nail technician both leave together and head off down the high street chatting. Only Louise seems to be left inside the shop but Simon can't see what she's up to because the blinds are down.
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'Oh, that's terrible!' gasps the young women, evidently taken back by Jocelyn's explanation. 'Of course we can't warn the mother in case she tells this Reverend Balfour.' She is quiet for a few seconds then starts to screw her face up in a way that suggests she is thinking deeply and that this is something quite difficult for her. 'So you will be able to give evidence to the judge to say all that? I'll ask for a closed session but they'll want to hear what you have to say.' Watching her mind work is almost painful, 'And you have some evidence connecting Louise Hayman to Balfour? Something we can show the judge?'
Finally. Simon drains his drink and gets up, heading over to the nail saloon as soon as the others are out of sight. He tries the door, entering if its unlocked.
The door is unlocked and Simon pushes it open with the tinkle of a bell.
There's a long table down the middle of the room, just off centre with simple plastic seats in bright primary colours running down both sides and a few more comfy looking padded chairs against another wall.
It is clean and bright but there's something a bit tired looking about the nail bar, the colours are faded, cracks and tears are visible in the fabric of the place.
Sitting at the long table is a tired looking white woman in her forties, Louise Hayman. She looks up at Simon and says,
