Play@YSDC

Izzy's gaze is drawn, not unappreciatively, to the posters and the Pirelli calendar first - damn hormones - before she refocuses and begins her usual hunt for clues and vestigia...

Sense Vestigia - 60%:

1d100

Observation - 60%:

1d100

Vestigia fail, observation extreme success!

Jordan doesn't look too closely at the scantily-clad women in the posters. They don't have anything Sarah doesn't have. He presumes. Well, except a fabulous sports car, but with his salary he could remedy that if she wants one. He certainly isn't paying much attention to them, anyway. Or to much of anything else here, for that matter.

Observation roll (70% skill) in the flat:
d%
Sense Vestigia roll (30% skill) in the flat:
d%

1d%50%

Regular success.

1d%30%

Skipper will spend 3 Luck to make that a regular success, if he can.

Skipper regards both the nice motors and young ladies in the posters with equal, but not excessive, frank approval. "Nice."

He begins a professional search of the premises.

While Jordan notices nothing of interest, Izzy and Skipper between them have better luck.

A now familiar vestigia is detected by Skipper - a floral scent, the feeling of strong sunlight on the skin and the chittering of tropical birds and insects. The feeling seems stronger in the small kitchen-diner than in any other room.

Admiring the calendar, Izzy notices that there are a few dates marked with mundane work meetings and appointments. However two dates – the second Wednesday of the last two months – are ringed with red marker pen.

Skipper notices that the only reading material in the apartment consists of motoring magazines.

yes, you may spend some Luck.

Done.

"Damn, this is starting to rub off on me. I can feel that vestigia thing more in the kitchen.... Same as you described."

Skipper focuses his attention on the kitchen /diner. He checks under the sink, in all the bottles etc. He checks anything in a bottle or packet in the pantry.

"Clearly our man's motor obsessed. His lock-up ought to be interesting."

"Speaking of cars," says Jordan, "let's check out his next."

"Hold up a moment..." Izzy raises a finger as she looks at the calendar. "Couple of dates here... the last two months, second Wednesday of the month. Might have been something important to the deceased, considering he marked them on here."

She turns to the supervisor. "I take it Mr. Chichester lived alone? No girlfriend, flatmate, anything like that? And do you know if he went out on these dates, or had anyone over then?"

She winces slightly at the idea that any woman might have been unfortunate enough to have been in a relationship with the late Karl. Izzy then updates her notepad with the information and knowledge gained so far here.

The supervisor shrugs at Izzy.

"No - never saw any girlfriend. In love with his car maybe, but no girls. Come to think of it, most of the girls that live here seemed creeped out by him - certainly during the last few months I guess."

He looks at the calendar.

"Hmm... not during the day, when I work. I finish at eight - sometimes later, but I never saw him leave then. He worked from home most days, so I would've seen. Night-time maybe?"

He turns to Jordan, jangling his bunch of keys.

"Got garage key here when you're ready."

Meanwhile, Skipper looks around the kitchen. Opening the cupboard under the sink, he is almost knocked back by the strength of the vestigia! Rooting through the bottles of detergent and washing-up liquid, the source of said vestigia appears to come from a 2 litre plastic container. Tucked away in the dark recesses at the back of the cupboard, it seems to glow...

"Whoa!" Skipper, crouching down already, reels back and lands on his rear end, just getting a hand down in time to avoid glutial bruising. "Aylesbury!"

"Ah, Voodoo Child, this is so definitely yours!" He prudently scuttles back a metre further and points at the suspect container.

Jordan hurries to the kitchen in case his medical assistance is needed. "Yeah, we want to be careful with that stuff," he says.

Part of Izzy is relieved for the potential girlfriends' sakes to hear that Karl apparently didn't have one, though she does suspect that maybe he's been spending a bit of time on the incel websites. For now, she asks the sergeant to put an action on HOLMES for a uniform to look into any local events or gatherings that took place on the dates marked on the calendar, with an emphasis on anything relating to cars or to the leisure centre.

At the call from Skipper, she dashes into the kitchen to see what he's pointing at. Izzy wastes no time in extracting a standard issue set of latex gloves from her shoulder bag, for evidence handling without getting fingerprints all over the merchandise, and after putting them on, pulls out the bottle of strange glowing stuff from the cupboard.

"I don't think I'll be using this in the dishwasher any time soon... Sarge, can we get a sample of whatever's in here to pass to Forensics? I've got a suspicion that this might be the same as whatever was in the spray bottle from the incident scene."

Skipper clambers back to his feet and looks at the container suspiciously. "So, doesn't seem like a one-off then. Old Mate was either buying in bulk from his supplier, or making it himself maybe?"

(He has an easier time relating this to drugs than spookiness.)

"I'm wondering how he - or someone else -found out the formula," says Jordan. "He didn't strike me as a chemist. And we've found nothing to indicate how it's made here. It would be interesting to see his Internet search and browser history."

"That's a good point," says Izzy, as she pulls out another few pairs of latex gloves from her bag and hands them to Skipper, Jordan, and Sgt. Dhillon (the latter of whom would of course already be aware of evidence handling procedures).

"Here, put these on. We don't want to contaminate any evidence with our own fingerprints. We should have a look for anything like a laptop, tablet, even other phones. If they're not sanded then it's something else for Forensics to take a gander at."

Because chances are they won't be likely to guess any PIN or password themselves...

The glow fades when the container if brought out into the daylight. The small amount of liquid inside seems to cling to the bottom with a rainbow shimmer, similar to that of oil upon water.

Some childish-looking handwriting is written on the side of the container in faded black marker pen. It says 'pRopertY of FlOwers FeildS'

Donning suitable gloves, Sgt. Dhillon is happy to take charge of the container.

"Yeah, I'll get this to Forensics," she says with a nod, placing it into an evidence bag.

There is indeed a laptop, set upon a small desk where Chichester obviously worked from when not at his office, judging from the paperwork piled neatly adjacent.

To access the laptop, you'll need a Computer Use test.

Seeing Skipper crack his knuckles while wearing latex gloves is more than a little creepy, as he descends on the laptop. "Ah ha ha, I can't promise miracles but the more gutter end of Fleet Street used to pay me to do this." He pulls out some chunky old, black-rimmed, NHS-issue glasses and puts them on, then powers the laptop up, while scouring the area for clues to passwords.

1d%p60%

Regular success.

"His emails should be interesting too," says Jordan.

Izzy glances nervously at Sgt. Dhillon before stepping away from the laptop.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," she says to Skipper. After all, she'd rather not be party to the wildly illegal searching of a laptop without a warrant, even if the owner is deceased.

Not that most evidence in Falcon cases can be reasonably submitted to a mundane court of law. And also considering that aside from voyeurism, they don't have a specific crime yet to be investigating.

Skipper grunts, amused, as he focuses on the laptop. "I believe I could put up a pretty good legal argument that exigent circumstances require the urgent examination of the laptop, previous to any search warrant being obtained if needed, given Old Mate died in mysterious circumstances that may potentially be putting others in real danger too."

"That said, I cannot imagine too many of these Falcon jobs wind up being scrutinised for proper procedure by a Beak at the Old Bailey."

"But if you are not listening, I have some more tales for you not to hear. There was this time we were on shore leave in Greece. I met this Austrian backpacker lass who had the weirdest ideas about how best to experience sites of great cultural significance. Of which Athens is well sufficed..." Skipper continues on with his (others may hope unlikely) tale of indecent behaviour in famous Grecian and Roman tourist attractions, all the while tapping away on the laptop.

It doesn't take long for Skipper to work out Chichester's password (P0rsche9!!).

The man had indeed been trolling Loz Drivez. His motivation? That can be found by reading the many online articles he has bookmarked, written by Will Grimes. 'Grimsey' seems to have developed something of a grudge against the influencer, deriding her motoring and mechanical knowledge. "Leave it to the experts love," seems to be the general theme.

Anything else you want to look at?