Léon Barnes's Story

Cops.

Shit.

Ivan finished committing what the police had said to memory, straightening when the one guy announced his intent to barge into The Den. He took a few steps backwards, belting his waistcoat tightly as he pondered the information.

Three attacks. All from the same markings. The police were chasing the same lead he was, and that meant nothing good for him. Cops sniffing around his business meant answering more questions than he'd be asking, and watching his step far more than he felt was comfortable. He'd need to stew on this a little more, figure out how to proceed.

He leaped the gap between the buildings easily, a dark shape on light sky.

As he opened the door on the roof to head down to the den, his stewing turned to brooding.

Brooding always made him uncomfortable.

Aldous had to let out a light chuckle. "That's putting it lightly," he said with a grunt as he leaned down to peer at the body some more, looking for any traces of hair or anything Richard may have overlooked. Deciding the scene had been thoroughly scoped over, however, he stood once more.

Looking at Richard, he spoke. "I can't go with you, unfortunately. My presence would only make things worse. Go, and good luck." Looking back at the mangled corpse at their feet, he sighed. "I'll make sure you get some assistance on our end. I'll head up an investigation, let you know if we come across anything."

With that, he strode away, heading back to the University. He'd need to run by Thaddeus, but he was confident that he'd get the resources he needed to carry out his own investigation.

"Hey what the hell? What do you mean I can't get in?"

Alfred Fay's voice wasn't normally loud enough to be heard from outside of The Den. Well, it was also fair to say he wasn't exactly a regular there compared with it's clientele. Today however, he had business within it's walls, and the officer blocking his path waas an obstacle he had not been expecting.

"What's going on inside? Something happen?"

Alfred's answer came in the form of jostling bodies as people where being instructed to exit the bar which it would seem was being closed for the time being. The police where keeping the bar patrons held for questioning, and none of them looked particularly happy about being made to mill about outside while the police where securing the second crime scene in as many nights, and on the same street no less.

"No need to shove," Ivan murmured mildly as he was led out of the bar by a fist at the collar of his jacket and an angry, violent lunge. He didn't stumble - at six foot five, he wasn't easily knocked over - but relented to the pressure at his back, moving into the crowd. One of the constables was ordering people to sit down, shut up, answer a few questions - various cop related bullshit, with lines stolen straight from terrible crime dramas.

Ivan chose a dumpster to lean against and wait, pretending to fidget back and forth by rolling his back against the opening flap of the dumpster, letting it open with a creak, close with a sudden snap, and then opening it again. Each time, he could feel the object he snuck out of the bar riding higher and lower against the small of his back, cool metal against flushed skin.

He glanced around, ensured that nobody was heeding him any mind, and leaned back on his tiptoes, so that the dumpster was open at almost a forty five degree angle. Reaching backwards with one hand, he slid the Uzi out of his jeans, let it fall into the dumpster, timed the closing snap with the sound of the gun hitting the garbage.

Instantly, Ivan felt relieved. It had been the very first thing that he'd done - affirmative action-wise - for Baron since joining up, and it had been a close call. The gun was safe - enough, at least - so long as the cops didn't check the dumpster. And if they did, it was a much further stretch to call it Baron's - or anyone's in his gang, for that matter- due to it being in a public place, in a dark alley, and unregistered.

Feeling like his work was done, and craving a cigarette, Ivan smiled widely at the first female cop he saw, mentally slowing his pulse, calming his senses.

He waited for questioning.

Like a good dog.

Eli always thought that the various police departments around Terra favor people with exceptional amounts of simian genome in them, since suppressing the commonwealth with brute strength tends to get along with law enforcement. Currently the law was enforcing Eli out of the bar, since the situation escalated from a simple property search to something more serious. All that time Eli was trying to stay inconspicuous, all the while eavesdropping on whatever the police had with the bar patrons. Eli suspected the secret dog fighting ring downstairs was a health liability and now the said "mutts" of the bar are being let astray.
And now, he was back on the street, with no useful information and only a bottle of jack. He had an urge to slip away before the police question him, but then again he was innocent. What would he have to be afraid of? He sat down on a street corner, pondering where a man from the grave should belong in this city. The other undead were hardly of any interest. This put Eli to think how boring he was himself, and whether being monotonous and boring was a part of being undead. He certainly hadn't won the bar people's hearts, that's for sure.

As Alfred was shoved once more back away from the bar, he found suppressing a snarl very difficult. But when he noticed the officer grab onto some weapon at his hip, the young man backed away with a scowl.

"Fucking Bobbies." He muttered under his breath as he retreated into the crowd. Damn, of all the times for this bull to happen It had to be one of the few times he decided to show his face around the Den.

Before he could reach into his jacket for his trusty flask, Alfred found himself spotting something useful.

"Hey, you." He called with a gesture of his head in Ivan's direction. "I've seen you around before, could I talk with you for a sec?:

"Sure," Ivan replied, turning to face the speaker. His gaze was wary, cautious.

"Help you?"

As the pack came out to the outside, being ushered by the police, Blaze took her phone from her front pocket, then sat down on the side walk, wondering what was happening. She then began biting her nails, her nasty habit.

"Thanks mate." Alfred nodded, breathing a sigh of relief as he slid against the dumpster to lean on it beside Ivan.

"Can you tell me what all this nonsense is about? I mean, I aint around enough to be a face everyone knows, but I'm regular enough. I had business with some people who were supposed to be inside, important business. But lo and behold, fuckin coppers all over the place got it shut down tight. "

"Greetings gents.", a younger man walked down the alley in their direction from the main street and the front of the bar. Even from here they would know that he was like them but not a part of the pack. "You mind answering a few questions for me?" He was armed, a black semi-automatic pistol on his right hip. Around his neck by a loose chain hung a gold badge and across his shoulder was a strap holding a camera. The black jacket he wore had a logo that clearly displayed a name, 'VINDEX'.

A black car pulled up behind where Bowen's car was parked at the curb. Bowen opened his door, pausing to speak to Léon who was driving. It was Léon who alerted Bowen to Vanessa who was standing in the middle of the street. They both stepped out of the car and both were well dressed but had heavy bags under their eyes. Bowen was the only one who moved around his door and started to walk in Vanessa's direction. "Vanessa?", he called to her.

He had tried to call her earlier in the morning. Being that he was representing Baron he was alerted to the warrant nearly as soon as it was issued but his call went to the machine. Vanessa had stepped out to visit the corner store earlier that morning and had missed his call.

"Sophia!"

Vanessa was near hysterical by this point.

"She was just here," she said as Jeanna came running back out of the house. "Where would she have gone?"

"Sophia!"

She raked her fingers through her soaked hair as the rain ran in rivulets down her face. She couldn't see anything out here and she turned about in place, not at all paying attention that she was in the middle of the street.

As Bowen appeared on the scene as well she was feeling nauseated.

"Sophia's missing," she shouted to him, before trying to call for Sophia again.

"Sophia!"

Long lines drew at the sides of Jeanne's mouth as she frowned. She knew the terror of missing one's child. Especially in Lutetia.

"What does your daughter look like?" she asked Vanessa. "I'm going to send out my officers on a search. We're going to try and find her."

She glanced at the men who rolled up, but her concentration was on the woman and getting the task done.

Bowen looked at Léon, then ran back to him. He spoke to him briefly, describing Sophia. Léon stepped back into the car and took off to make a pass around the block. Bowen jogged back to stand near Vanessa and frantically looked around and joined in calling her a few times. Unlike her he remained somewhat calm. His calm gave way to anger. "We will find her. We will find her...", he said. He tried to coax Vanessa out of the street.

"Ms. Bonheur?!", he would question her. He knew her. They traveled in the same circles and spoke to the same people. He knew what she was well known for but he knew that it was hopeless. The fresh smell of the rain had destroyed everything. The trail was gone before either of them could get so much as a whiff. His jaw clenched and his anger boiled over, anger at his own powerlessness, anger at the police for allowing this to happen.

"I.. uh..." Vanessa turned around.

She needed to find Sophia, but she couldn't get her thoughts together beyond that. She didn't know which direction to go, where to start.

She put a hand to her mouth trying to think.

"There's a picture of her, on the shelf in the living room," Vanessa managed.

Jeanne nodded to Vanessa. "I'll be right back," she said to them. She glanced at the man who'd called her for a moment. "I'll talk to you when I come back out."

Her reputation spread a little far, Jeanne realized as she hurried inside to look for the photo. Once she did, she passed it around the other officers inside, telling them to spread out and keep their radios close. "We've made a big mistake today. We're not letting her get away for long!"

"I need to call someone..."

She pressed her knuckles to her lips as she tried to get her thoughts together. Baron was still in prison, The Den was closed and no one would be there.

"What if her father took her?" she asked suddenly.

She was grasping at straws, but she was panicking.

He was drenched to the bone and so was she but he did not care. "Would he do that?" For all Bowen knew Sophia's father was capable of anything but he didn't understand why he would do it. He didn't know the guy well enough to profile him.

Léon pulled back up, rolled down the window and shook his head. "I didn't see her. The police should cordon off the area and do a house by house." Bowen would look back to Vanessa. "Please.", he would call to her and then step around the car and out into the street. "Come out of the road. I have a phone. Make your call." Again he would try and coax her out of the street.

"I don't know... maybe?" she said as Bowen managed to get her to step out of the street. "I don't know who else might have taken her."

She looked at the phone in hand but she couldn't figure out who to call with Baron still in jail. She finally hugged her arms to herself as she tried to get her head around the situation.

"I shouldn't have left her there, I should have been watching her. I just... she was right there. Maybe if I shift I can pick up a trail," she said.