Arc 5 Post 12: A Sharp Customer
A Sharp Customer
2nd of September 2006 A.D.
"So just to be clear about this," you give the Thomas a questioning once over. "You want to buy the warehouse they found Greene in, the one the CPD at least think he was murdered in?"
"Yep," he flashes a smile, a smirk really with which he's probably quite used to getting hearts racing, not that you are affected... much. "None more reason for the owner to sell the place on the cheap for cash no questions." He proceeds to explain what the other reasons are.
Quite apart from its recent bloody history the place isn't much to look at, it is a one story four thousand feet box built in the sixties boasting four thousand feet of floor-space and a fifteen foot ceiling clearance accessed through three drive through doors two of which open onto the street and the third onto the dusty graffiti covered parking lot. It is also insulated in asbestos and has sprinklers that are not up to code. He's pretty sure the building inspectors just haven't been around recently, not that you are in the least surprised.
North Lawndale is one of the places Reverent Martin Luther King Jr used as an example of discriminatory and predatory housing practices. The city has been putting more money into trying to fix the place up but to your eyes the new park across the way looks like slapping a bandied on gangrene. It takes you a moment to realize just what you are feeling. Apathy and desolation are manifest in the very air, a desert of man's disdain for man. Just like back at Helen's place you know bone deep that you could do more than survive here, you could thrive and help others do so as well.
"What's the price?" you ask as you duck under the door into what could be charitably be called a bare bones interior. About half the lighting fixtures are still in place.
"Twenty Thousand Dollars cash, no strings...."
His voice sounds distant as you make your way to the back of the werehouse, to the place you had seen through the cameras which are no longer here. The steel table hadn't gone anywhere.
"Where did Detective Greene really die?" you ask of inward insight.
Blood splattering on kitschy garden gnomes, dying the feathers of pink flamingos crimson
Agony, Screams, Terror
Why won't they come?
Greene had been killed under a veil practically outside his backdoor, it could not have taken more than ten seconds, but they had been seconds in agony.
Wait... "Clippy pull up the report on the Greene murder again for me." Ignoring Thomas for the moment you confirm that the detective's car had been found hear here, where he was meant to meet with Harry. So whoever had killed him must have shoved him in his own car and driven the body here.
Granted you knew this thing was capable of glamor or shape-shifting to pretend it was Harry, but why kill him so close to home and then drag him all the way here instead of letting him drive himself? Sadism maybe. That sounds like a coop out in your own head. Regardless you do not think Detective Greene's widow the FBI agent is going to appreciate the visit.
"She would not desire to know what slew her paramour?" Usum asks surprised.
"Well yeah but..." But what, you suddenly ask yourself. She's not going to be Daedalus. Odds are she wants answers every bit as much as you do.
Thomas clears his throat. "So the warehouse? And what are we going to call the company. I'm going to need it for he filings?"
[] [Name] Write in
[] [Warehouse] Buy
[] [Warehouse] Don't buy
[] [Greene] Go to his house to use the Crown the murder scene
[] [Greene] Go to his house to use the Crown on the murder scene and talk to his wife
[] [Greene] Don't visit the murder scene yet
[] [Greene] Write in
OOC: Votes are individual not by plan since they do not have much to do with one another.