Play@YSDC

Melbourne in the spring of 1928 is a prosperous city, although the gap between the haves and have-nots is wide. About a million souls live there now, ranging from bohemians and flappers, to staid professionals and officials, to impoverished factory and dock workers, to academics at the University of Melbourne or the National Museum, to the inevitable criminal and underclasses - yet only a handful of Australia's Aboriginal population live there, most having been forced off to reservations or missions in the country.

It's been six months since the death of underworld crimelord Leslie Taylor, known as "Squizzy" - a big event to everyone with an interest in crime and investigation. The underworld is now run by Harry Stokes, although there are still ambitious new gangsters looking to make names for themselves.

PI's deal usually deal with smaller stakes than that, though. Sara's employer, Oscar Moreton, spends most of his time digging up dirt on one private citizen for the sake of another - he's managed to parlay this into a lot of upper class clients and connections. As a boss, he's middling to work for - he's a sexist toad, but at least he doesn't get grabby.

You can tell he's just been a sexist toad right now, as his latest appointment, a young woman by the name of Carol Osborne, emerges from his office, sobbing.

Sara London gets up and goes over to Carol Osborne to comfort her. "What's wrong, Miss?" she asks. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I came about my friend Elsa," she says. "She's walking into trouble - that man's bad news, I just know it. But your boss doesn't think it's worth his time. No, worse than that, he said 'If she gets her heart broken, it would the kind of lesson valuable to any young woman,'" she quotes bitterly.

"Well, I think it's worth my time," says Sara. "I've learned a lot about investigations in my job, and I have enough skills to be a private investigator. If you give me the details, I can look into it."

"Oh, thankyou," she gushes. "Her name is Elsa Hauser, she's been my friend since we were little girls. The man she's taken up with is called Austin Kittrell. He's very rich, and... you know that kind of charming that you can tell isn't right? I know he's toying with her, he's had a string of girls in the past, but he's got her under his thumb, thinking it'll be different with her."

"You're welcome," says Sara. "I know the sort. Someone like him would be in Who's Who, which will make it easier to get some basic information on him, and I can check the periodicals to see when he's made the news. I can also try following him around and see where he goes and what he does, and once I find out about people he's connected to, they can also be sources of information. Is there anything else you can think of that might be helpful?"

"I know where he's going to be tonight. He's taking Elsa to a club called the Royal Hunt. Usually it's a 'Gentleman's'" - you can hear the scarequotes in her voice around Gentleman's - "club, but every month they throw a ball for all the rich folks in Melbourne."

"Thank you, that will help," says Sara. "I'm not exactly rich, but maybe I can dress up as one of the staff. Do they have women on staff?"

"I think so," she says. "Thankyou so much for helping. I can pay you what I was going to pay him."

"You're quite welcome," says Sara. "It'll just be the standard rate, plus expenses. I'll be sure to itemise them all. I'll need to buy a waitress outfit for the Royal Hunt, for starters. Since he didn't want the case and I'll be doing it on my own time, I'll just have the entire fee for myself."

The rest of the day goes without incident. Another client - a well-to-do man, obviously far more worth Oscar's time, in Oscar's estimation - comes for a report on his case (he is worried his wife is cheating on him, which she apparently is not).

You have a short window after work to buy an outfit you think will suit a waitress at such a party.

Sara looks for a shop near the Royal Hunt, reasoning that not only would it allow her to get to the club faster, but also that that is where employees of the club would be most likely to get their own work clothing.

You can find a shop still open. A suitable outfit doesn't break the bank, but it costs enough to make you wish you'll have another use for it after tonight.

Sara keeps the outfit on after trying it on and buying it, keeping her old clothes in a shopping bag to change back into later. It occurs to her that she might find a use for it again later. If she's successful with this case, she could go into business for herself full time as a private investigator, and such a disguise could be useful in future cases. In any case, she knows she'll be reimbursed for the expense. She heads over to the Royal Hunt, looking for the staff entrance.

OOC,I presume [b]Carol[/b] gave me a description of [b]Elsa Hauser[/b] and [b]Austin Kittrell[/b], but I don't see it in the above posts.

Mr. Handy wrote:

OOC,I presume [b]Carol[/b] gave me a description of [b]Elsa Hauser[/b] and [b]Austin Kittrell[/b], but I don't see it in the above posts.

OOC,Yes. Elsa is 22, blonde with green eyes, with a full figure and a loud laugh - she's planning to wear a green flapper dress. Austin is in his late twenties, thin, brown hair and eyes, and with a "smile like a wolf."

The Royal Hunt has four entrances, whose locations make them easy to sort into members, staff, trade, and back door. There are men at all four, but the one at the staff entrance is clearly bored...

OOC,Sara's Luck: 45 Rolled 1D100: 30

... and waves you in having barely looked at you.

The door leads into a cloakroom, which in turn leads into the kitchen area. The party is close to starting, and the serving staff are all gathered there getting instruction from a man, mostly about which rooms they'll be taking trays to. He's giving several of them directions, which at least means there are extra staff here, not just those familiar with the place.

Sara leaves her bag with her normal clothes behind in the cloakroom and hurries to join the serving staff to get her instructions, glad that there are extra staff. She should be able to blend in among them.

The steward or whatever he is doesn't seem to register your arrival, and keeps giving orders until he gets round to you. He doesn't bother asking your name and tells you and another girl to take trays of drinks and hors d'oeuvres to the "blue gallery" - he tells you this is up the stairs, turn left and go through two doors straight in front of you. He doesn't wait for you to acknowledge the instruction and moves on to the next person.

Your colleague waits till you're out of the kitchen and heading for the stairs before introducing herself as Maria.

"Hi, I'm Sara," says Sara, following Maria to the stairs. "I've never worked here before. I'm just here for this event. How about you?"

"I've worked a couple of these events, but that's all. That bloody Jenkins never remembers me who I am though. Sorry, that's the fella who was telling us what to do. He does work here, and fancies himself a proper English butler, as if the rich dags in this place think any more of him than us."

"Know anything about the rich dags?" asks Sara. "Any in particular I should avoid? It wouldn't surprise me if some of them had roaming hands."