Dead in the Water (Dark Heresy IC)

[Destro_Yersul]

"No argument from me," Gabe said, "You'd best go sleep now, though. I'll stay up a bit later, but I'm not going to talk to club owners tomorrow."

---

In the morning, or what passed for morning on Landunder, when the lumen-globe streetlamps flicked on to their brightest setting and shops started opening, the acolytes woke to find Gabe snoring with his head on the table, little stacks of papers arranged neatly around him. The apartment's holoviewer was on, and grainy images flashed across the screen, the sound turned low. It looked like news, and what was better it looked like news that didn't involve any mishaps at any nightclubs.

The club itself had done a pretty good job covering things up, too. The staff must have worked overtime. When they arrived, looking for Saul, they found a replacement painting in the foyer, different from the one they'd seen previously. A bored-looking employee was mopping the floor, the scuff marks of running feet from the previous night all but vanished. He looked up at them when they entered.

"H'lo."

[Thragka]

Enoch blinked vapidly at the man for a few moments.

"We're looking for Saul," he remembered to say.

[Artemis97]

Whoever woke first in the morning would find themselves under the catlike gaze of the team's assassin, Joss, who had planted himself in the murky darkness of the apartment's kitchenette. Had he slept the night before? Or was he just an early riser? Would anyone mention the blanket that had been placed carefully around Gabe's shoulders? Probably wiser not to. And was that Strontian Synth Bacon, cooked and set out for the others? It was a little burnt... you think.


At the club, Joss stood slightly behind Enoch, again content to let the Psyker do the talking. He took a moment to stare at the employee with his exotic glare, an indication that he should answer quickly, before taking in the new painting, wondering if it was a work by the same artist, or if their new friend Theo would find it interesting.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Oh." The man pointed through the doors, towards the bar. "In there."

While he was doing that, Joss was able to take a closer look at the new painting. This one was not a landscape, nor did it have fish in it. Thanks largely to Theo's going on last night, showing off his own collection, Joss was able to tell that this was an original, rather than a print. The pricetag matched this assessment, though it was still rather low judging by some of the chatter from last night. The painting showed a shadowed stage, rendered in shades of grey. The stage backdrop, formed of abstract shapes reminescent of the architectural embellishments on the hive's buildings, loomed above the lone actor who stood, center stage, in a spotlight. He was wearing a black suit and top hat, looking up towards the viewer, but his face was hidden behind a bright red theatre mask - tragedy. The date, next to the artist's signature in the bottom right corner, marked the painting as being over a year old. The name, Joss couldn't make out.

Spoiler: OOC:

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It's a pretty easy Literacy test (+20) to read the artist's signature, if anyone is interested. Joss doesn't have the skill, so no test for him.

[Thragka]

Enoch approached the door cautiously, keeping his distance, as though it were a dangerous beast. He eyed it suspiciously from a couple of feet back, and then, after it had made no sudden movements for a few seconds, reached across the intervening gap with his stave and rapped on it loudly.

[LeSwordfish]

"Ow're we playing this?" Annie asked the others, as subtly as she was capable of. "Loud and pointy? Or all scoochie-like."

[Thragka]

She wasn't very subtle. Enoch turned his head and gazed vacantly in Annie's direction. It didn't seem that he'd understood the question - until he spoke.

"I think ... perhaps you should decide that, Miss Lee. Unless the proprietor is," he sniffed, "a man of breeding and taste, I am entirely at a loss as to how one engages these people."

[Artemis97]

"People are preople." Joss rasped. "We all bleed just the same." A lovely thought from the assassin. "Let's let him say his piece. If we don't like what he says, then we can be... loud and pointy." He smiled behind his scarf and his eyes glittered with excitement at the prospect. God Emperor it had been too long since he had shed blood!

[Destro_Yersul]

Enoch's rap on the door was answered by the sound of footsteps and, moments later, the door swinging inwards. The staff areas of the club were decidedly more spartan than the front of the house, just going on what was visible through the door. The person who had answered it was a short, balding man with a neat goatee and a build that suggested he was used to hard work. He had an autoquill stuck behind one ear, and a pair of small, rectangular-frame eyeglasses perched on the end of his nose. It was a decidedly older habit, but then, perhaps he couldn't afford corrective procedures.

"Yes?" He asked. "I'm sorry, but it's a bit of a bad time. There's been an incident, you see, and I'm still trying to pick up all the pieces."

[LeSwordfish]

"It's related ter that, actcherly." Annie said. This was as scoochie as she got. "We'd like a word, please, just quick-like, an then we'll be out of yer hair. Can we come in an 'ave a seat?"

Spoiler: OOC

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Charm vs 48: (1d100)[27]

[Destro_Yersul]

"Well, if it won't be long..."

The little man stepped aside to let them pass. The area into which they'd been admitted, now that the could see it properly, looked like it served a number of functions. There was a hall with a washroom set off it, and a staircase at the end that spiraled upwards. An alcove in one corner, barred by a chain-link fence, secured the club's surplus alcohol supply. There was a holoviewer, currently turned off, and a short table on top of which were a couple of cheap dataslates. A very old sofa sat next to the table, and across from that were a pair of equally old chairs. A clipboard, face down, was sitting next to one of these. Their host bent to pick it up.

"I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Saul. Did you have information about last night?" He sunk into his chair, setting the clipboard on the table. Annie caught a glimpse of a shimmering blue line on his bicep, under his shirt, as he leaned back. Luminem tattoo, maybe.

[LeSwordfish]

"All in good time, savvy?" Annie asked. She took a seat, and listed off a few of the victim names, specifically those who had attended the club. "These names mean anything ter you, mister Saul?"

[Destro_Yersul]

Saul had to think for a moment, before replying. "I believe I've heard the names before. Or seen them, perhaps. They're patrons of my club, aren't they? I haven't seen most of them in a while, though. What do they have to do with last night?"

[Thragka]

Enoch looked from Saul to Annie, and shrugged.

[LeSwordfish]

Deciding that the psyker was usually clearer in his contempt if a deception was involved, Annie turned back to Saul and pressed on. "I'll be honest with yer, mister Saul. We're private investergators with the 'biters, an' we're looking for whoever killed these folks. They're all yer customers, an they're all crunched. Nasty, like. Spook business, maybe. Something's killing folks, and your club is how they're finding'em. Last night, they were hunting again... I dunno what happened, but it went wrong. Picked the wrong bugger maybe. Either way, there were fallout."

She leaned forward, resting grubby elbows on the desk.

"So whoever killed them poor buggers also smashed up yer club, an we're gonna ask, all 'fficial-like, fer yer help an yer discrete-ion to catch 'em."

OOC

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Decieve test! Annie is testing vs 68 - 48fel, +10 training, +10 Enoch's assist: (1d100)[68]

well

[Artemis97]

Joss takes a step back to stand against the door. Saul wasn't going anywhere until he answered their questions, though Joss felt he'd be cooperative enough. Still, he felt a little intimidation went a long way.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Really?" Saul looked Annie up and down. "I must say, you don't look like constables. Still, if it's an official investigation I'm happy to co-operate."

He blinked, as a certain piece of information caught up to him. "Sorry, did you say killed? That is... very distressing. Yes, yes. Of course I'll help out. What is it you need, exactly?"

[LeSwordfish]

"D'you have security cameras? Inside or outside. Do you have records of who attends? Do you have records of the paintings you display, or of who performs? We want all of'em."

[Destro_Yersul]

"I've got a couple picters inside, but they're broken. Been broken for a week or two." Saul shook his head. "I really should have had them repaired. Just didn't have the time. Records, though, those I have. Most of the paperwork from last night has gone missing, but I can get the performance schedules, and list of paintings. Wait here."

Saul stood, vanishing down the hall. They could hear his footsteps echoing up the spiral staircase. The clipboard had gone with him, and there wasn't much interesting in the room to look at while they waited - the dataslates on the table turned out to contain copies of magazines and local news. Before long, Saul came clumping back down the stairs, a few new sheets of paper attached to his clipboard.

"Here's what I could find," he said, offering Annie the topmost sheet. "Attendance records are trickier, all I have for that is reservations and bar tabs. That's the performance schedules for the last couple months or so, and this..." he handed her another sheet, "is the inventory for the paintings. Everything that's been bought, and everything I still have on hand. Though, umm..." Saul picked up his autoquill and made a scratch mark through one of the lines. "That one's missing since last night. I had to bring out an old one that hadn't sold to replace it."

It was a lot of information. Gabe would have a field day.

[LeSwordfish]

"D'you still 'ave the records from afore the picters were crunched?" Annie asked, putting aside the pile of paper for now - it wasn't like she could read anyway.

OOC

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Is NPC!Mouse with us?

[Artemis97]

Behind his scarf, Joss smirked a little at the mention of the paining. That could be accounted for, easily. It was too bad it'd been damaged.

"When were the picters broken, exactly?" Joss asked, wondering if it corresponded with when their target began killing. He also made a mental note to look over the footage from before they were broken, to see if anyone was acting suspiciously.

[Destro_Yersul]

"I've got records, but the storage is pretty small. It's only a few days, from right before everything broke down. The system overwrites itself unless I pull something out and save it. Or, at least, that's what the fellow who installed it said. Can't say my business attracts a lot of criminal acts. Let me think..."

Saul adjusted his spectacles, counting off days on his fingers. "Would've been... two weeks and three days that the system's been down. I knew I should've had the blasted picters fixed."

[LeSwordfish]

"Yup." Annie said cheerfully. "An if i were you, i'd get some bugger in to get them fixed afore you open tonight. Send the bill to Detective McKaren, 'e'll sort the money."

She conferred quickly with mouse, and then turned back to saul. "My associate 'ere will be reviewing yer paperwork, and my other associate will be looking at your camera footage for the night four weeks ago, please. As fer me, you an i'll 'ave a little chat. We can walk an' talk if you've stuff to do."

OOC

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By "Four weeks ago", i mean the night of the murder - correct me if that wouldn't be it. Joss expressed an interest in that, so i'll give that to him, unless Artemis disagrees, in which case i'll edit and Annie can do it.

I would suggest that mouse looks at all the paperwork we have and tries to spot patterns for each night the murders were at - were new paintings added each night? Specific performers? Were there any people there on the nights of the murders but not other nights, as best can be ascertained from the bar tabs?

I would also suggest that Enoch goes around and does a bit of poking around with his wizard eyes.

Annie will ask Saul the following questions:

• Has anything unusual happened here recently, other than the incident last night?
• Have more people been coming to the club recently? Or less?
• Who are the regulars at the club? (Was this how we found the last lot of leads? If so, Annie will still ask this - she wants to see what Saul's response is.)

Charm test: (1d100)[54] vs 48

[UncleWolf]

"It might be best if you simply lead me to where you keep your records." Mouse says with a small nod. This time she's left her shotgun behind in the apartment, judging that after the fiasco of the last day it'd be best to avoid spooking people too much. She felt naked without it but she still had her pistols. "It is just that I would know best what to look for is all and from the sound of it you keep good paperwork so it'll be all the easier for me." She adds with a smile.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Right, of course. Please, follow me." Saul answered Annie's questions on their way down the hall, though he seemed somewhat distracted by the need to talk and navigate at the same time. He hadn't been doing anything with the clipboard while he was talking to them, either. Likely he was bad at multitasking. No, there'd been nothing really unusual at the club, patronage stayed about the same, though he'd noticed a few less regulars in recent times. Who were the regulars? Saul had to stop walking while he rattled off the list. Kriek was in there, as well as the others they'd pulled from the precinct database, along with a handful of the victims and lots of names they hadn't heard before.

The camera room turned out to be the same as the file room, which explained why he'd asked everyone to come along. It was up the stairs, behind one of two doors leading off a small landing. The files were neatly put away in large steel cabinets, and the cameras linked to a dimly glowing cogitator screen on the other side of the room. Right now it showed a test pattern, but Saul dismissed that to pull up the old footage, starting from the beginning of the day they'd asked for. It looked like it ran all day, and the cogitator had an output slot for holding high-density storage blocks - Mouse recognised a stack of these on a nearby shelf. If they needed to save something, they'd be able to take it with them.

[Thragka]

Enoch listened to Saul as the man spoke, only looking half-attentive. When they got to the vid-cassettes, he stepped away from the group. "Excuse me," he said, reaching into his robes and retrieving the Tarot deck from its wallet. "I'm just going to take a quick look around."

He shuffled the deck in his hands and drew some cards on a flat surface, with a mutter that was inaudible except for the occasional reverb from the vox inducer. Then, warily stuffing the unused cards back into the folds of his gown, he walked around the Club, occasionally glancing at the hand he'd dealt.

Spoiler: OOC

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Invocation, with Psy-focus: Invocation52 - (1d100)[92]
Glimpse on three dice: (3d10)[2][1][3](6), +4 WP bonus, with another +4 if the Invocation was successful, with a Threshold of 18.
Using that result on Psyniscience, Perception 40 +10 for mastery +30 if Glimpse was successful: (1d100)[8]

When he had concluded his erratic little jaunt around the premises, he joined Mouse with the attendance records. "Ms. Mouse. Anything of interest? I can also take a look, if you don't mind." He didn't really offer her the chance to respond - taking the pages that she was finished with, he again began arranging the tarot cards around the sheets of paper, alternately tapping the laminates and the names on the list with those long, thin fingers ...

Spoiler: OOC

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Same again: going to Invoke to Glimpse a Literacy Test. The Warp holds all knowledge!
Invocation52 - (1d100)[10]
Glimpse - (3d10)[2][2][7](11) +4 WP bonus, +4 if Invocation was succesful
Int 37, Literacy +10, +30 if Glimpse went off: Literacy - (1d100)[27]

[Artemis97]

Joss scans through the picter footage, looking for suspicious behavior from the patrons, particularly anyone who paid too much attention to the regular clients.

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(1d100)[64] vs 32 for awareness check.

[UncleWolf]

Mouse and Saul

Mouse begins to go through the files wordlessly with a slight frown of concentration, but when Saul begins to help himself she directs that frown towards him instead. She won't move to stop him, but her displeasure at having her methods interrupted, even slightly, is quite evident. Even so, he might catch something she doesn't.

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Literacy Test: (1d100)[51]vs60

[Destro_Yersul]

Enoch Only

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With the club empty, it was at least a little easier to focus on the energy of the warp, without being distracted by the swell of humanity. The hand of cards Enoch had dealt himself was strange, hard to interpret. It was mostly minor arcana, and those were always a little trickier, but the Arbitrator had found its way in there as well, and that was not the sort of card one would expect to apply to their quarry. Possibly things were being muddied. He was on the second circuit of the club, near the door, when he noticed it - darkness, sorrow, fire and conviction. For an instant the walls fell away, replaced by the smell of oil and the impression of a tiny studio. Then it was gone, and the club was back, but it took Enoch only a moment to find the source. The painting they'd seen on the way in was a focus, of a sorts. There was nothing wrong with the painting itself, which was why the impressions it left in the warp were so well buried, but it reminded Enoch of something Theo had said the other night. Something about artists pouring out their souls, and how every piece contained a little of the artist who made it. At the time, it had sounded pretentious, but here it was, open for anyone with the will to see it.

Joss found going through the picter footage to be slow business. The feeds were grainy and ocassionally distorted, and there was no audio input, none of the sounds he might have relied on while tracking or hunting someone himself. People mingled, their faces hidden, their conversations unheard. It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack, if you didn't know what you were looking for, or at the very least, where and when you needed to look. Saul was hovering nearby, trying his best to be helpful, but it was going to take a long time before Joss got anywhere at this rate...

Meanwhile, Mouse was having a similar issue with the files. The performers for each night didn't seem to follow any sort of pattern, aside from a general rotation of what must have been the more popular acts, and the rotation of the paintings didn't seem to have any especial bearing on it either. It needed to be something that happened once a week, didn't it? The bar tabs were the most likely place, but there were a mountain of those. Fortunately, she only needed to go through a few days, and Saul was particular enough about his filing that it wasn't too difficult to find the names of everyone who had bought a drink on those nights. There was a scattering of the regulars they knew about, and a scattering more of the ones Saul had mentioned, and one or two who had also been listed as artists in the records of paintings sold by the club. Of course, one of those hadn't sold any paintings recently... the old painting, the one in the foyer now, Saul had said it hadn't sold before. The records said it was the work of a man named Titus Ananius, and he'd been here every night somebody turned up dead. He hadn't given Saul any new paintings for sale in months, though. Then Enoch returned, tapping names and flipping cards. Mouse caught a glimpse of the card the psyker flipped over for Titus. It was upside down, and depicted a pilgrim in a sackcloth robe.

Enoch Only

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The pilgrim was an interesting card, number 0 of the Major Arcana. It was generally associated with a journey, metaphorical or otherwise, and represented positive qualities. Enthusiasm, invention, idealism. Reversed, it meant folly and mania. Whoever Titus was, he must have done something exceptionally foolish.

[Thragka]

"Ah," said Enoch. His sunken eyes could not widen much beneath the weight of the band around his forehead, but they sparkled. He gave Mouse a knowing look, oblivious to her frustration, and bustled off.

Returning to the door, he stopped before the painting on display.

"Ms. Lee," he called out. "We have a Code PB here."