A Deadly Case of Mistaken Identity (Closed)

Awesomeocalypse · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Awesomeocalypse** on Sun Dec 19, 2010 8:35 pm

Thursday, June 14th
7:25 AM

Sunlight spanned across the streets of the suburban neighborhoods calling all of the inhabitants, to rise from their restful slumber. The birds in the trees sang songs of new days and dogs yipped and barked about whatever it is dogs yip and bark about. To most, it was just another beautiful Thursday morning. Some of the people of the middle-class suburban neighborhood had already began their commute to work, while others were still busily getting ready. Children had already began setting up to play a game of street hockey, as summer vacation had already begun and none had any obligations to fill other than to have fun before the next school year. Life in this neighborhood was good, calm, and normal.

On this day, normal is about as far away from the truth as someone could get.

shmband · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **shmband** on Mon Dec 20, 2010 12:21 am

CHARACTER BIOS: Tomas Dean - Abigail Dean

The long haul was at an end. With triumphant levity Tomas Dean pulled the wheel to the right, and the shiny grey saloon car swung through the open gate and into the driveway. Oh so welcome was the crunching of the gravel, the dappling light protruding through the fig tree standing tall in the middle of the courtyard. And behind it – home.

Never had a sight been more inviting than home. It was no mansion; and wouldn’t quite compare in most people’s eyes with the colonial fort he had been lucky to stay at in South Africa for the past three weeks. But it was home nonetheless, designed by his own hand and that of his wife. And it’s enduring charm lay in the fact that whenever he returned to this house, it was to the hand of his wife he was really returning. Especially now after three weeks; the longest he’d ever been away.

He parked the car up by the utility shed, got out and proceeded keenly towards the house, locking the car over his shoulder with the keyfob, and then with a second beep bid the driveway gate to close. The luggage could wait.

He paused at the front door to listen, expecting perhaps to hear piano music. But there was nothing. He smiled, perhaps Abigail was reading. After all, he had caught an early flight, and even though that flight got delayed, he was still home almost two hours early.

Turning the key in the door and stepping inside, he looked around. The huge open plan living room was swathed in vanilla coloured light which cascaded through the long netted curtains hanging in front of the windows. The furniture was neatly arranged, and the entire house was spotless. The smell of Gardenia brushed his face, and he closed his eyes for to savour the moment.

Walking further in, he looked around. There was still no sound. Was she in? Tomas has forgotten to look and see if her car was outside.

“Abigail sweetheart?” he called out.

tobisquestion · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **tobisquestion** on Mon Dec 20, 2010 3:51 am

Abigail hummed to herself barely audibly, her eyes closed, listening through earphones to the rhythmic classical guitar music. It was a piece that had been written over ten years ago by a man who was not himself a guitarist, and on it’s publication it was branded ‘unplayable’ by the Jazz community due to it’s difficulty. But there it was, playing on her smartphone; a courtesy recording given to her by the guitarist playing; Raoul Castaleyne. She was aware of his work even before he walked up to her in the Jazz club after she’d been on stage with the band, and introduced himself with an invitation to try out for supporting piano in a series of performances he would be giving in the city. His music was mesmerising; the way he combined the most involved Jazz rhythms with his native Moroccan fingerstyle...

Her eyes flicked open. Was that a voice in the house? Had she lost track of time that badly? He wasn’t due home for a couple of hours yet. Shooting a glance at the wall clock, she realised that it was actually no later than she had imagined. He must be home early. Biting her lip with excitement, she pulled her earphones out, dropped her phone onto the kitchen table, then hurriedly grabbed the steel baking tray from on top of the stove and slid it into the pre-heated oven.

Then, smoothing down her green floral wrap-around summer dress, she walked through to the living room, where Tomas was stood looking around in confusion. Poor man! He must have thought she was still out and about so near to his return.

“Hi darling,” she said, gamboling up to him and planting a kiss on his lips. “You’re so early, what happened, was the flight short? How did the final seminar go in Capetown?”

shmband · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **shmband** on Mon Dec 20, 2010 7:30 am

Tomas had been starting to get a little concerned after calling out three times, and was about to reach for the phone, when suddenly she had appeared in the kitchen doorway; his beautful wife, the panacaea for weary, long-travelled eyes. He gratefully embraced Abigail as she came up to him.

“There was a space on an earlier flight,” he said. “So I took it. Thought I’d surprise you.”

tobisquestion · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **tobisquestion** on Mon Dec 20, 2010 7:56 am

“Well that’s typical,” Abi said, drawing away slightly and pretending to be put-out. “You’re little stunt has ruined my surprise for you. Rack of lamb with pistachio crust. It was supposed to be ready to serve as soon as you came in, but it won’t be done for a couple of hours now.”

She was relying on Tomas not knowing how long it takes to cook a rack of lamb, as she should have put it in the oven thirty minutes ago. Unfortunately she had set the oven to pre-heat and started listening to Raoul’s music, and forgot about time.

shmband · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **shmband** on Mon Dec 20, 2010 7:57 am

Tomas salivated at the very thought of the dish Abi had served to her guests about three months ago, at a dinner party he had not been able to attend due to work. The fantastic smell when he had come home that night...it had been torture. There hadn’t even been a scrap of leftover.

“You’ve outdone yourself again Abi.” he said, grinning broadly, pulling her back in and gently kissing her again. “And I promise I’ll act surprised in two hours.”

They smiled at each other for a moment, then Tomas added, “Oh and Capetown was good. Not as well attended as the others, but there were some good questions asked, and I got a one on one with Professor Van der Merwe. The guy’s every bit as good as I’d been told.”

tobisquestion · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **tobisquestion** on Mon Dec 20, 2010 8:01 am

“That’s great.” Abigail nodded, smiling obligingly. She so tried to be excited about husband getting to talk to some old men about aerospace engineering, but it was an effort. After so many years of her father talking about it...she always thought Tomas must have done something to really impress her to get her to marry someone who did the same thing as her father. “Really, that’s really good news. And speaking of which, I have some good news also.”

shmband · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **shmband** on Mon Dec 20, 2010 1:53 pm

Tomas took a breath and nodded. He knew what she was about to say.

“About the audition with Raoul?” he asked. “Actually I saw on his Twitter page that you got the job. Congratulations sweetheart, I knew you could do it!”

It was a concerted effort to make his congratulation genuine. Naturally he was hugely proud of his wife’s musical achievements...and to be playing alongside one of the biggest upcoming players in the Jazz scene was a big deal. But...that Raoul guy set his teeth on edge. He’d been hitting on Abi as hard as a guy can hit on someone ever since he’d seen her at the club, and despite Tomas’ efforts to be friendly towards him, Raoul had shown no interest in reciprocrating. The guy was interested in Abigail only, and not just because of her piano skills, that was for sure.

Tomas’ forced smile became a false grimace. No doubt Raoul had actually been here at the house to give Abi the good news in person. Wow, that was a thought that left a bad taste.

tobisquestion · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **tobisquestion** on Mon Dec 20, 2010 7:00 pm

Abigail sighed and shook her head. She was well aware of how Raoul acted towards her, she just wished that Tomas could understand it was just the way he was; he was a flamboyant artist. Sure, he had a thing for her at the moment, but it was only a matter of time before Raoul’s attention passed to some other young musician – or, equally likely, member of the club staff or patronage – and Abi would be left to get on with playing the music.

“Yes,” she said with a nod and a reassuring smile, “I got the job, he came over to tell me. It was last Tuesday when I had the Fitzpatricks over for dinner. He brought some very expensive wine with him. Gretchen said he should join us, and there was enough food, so he stayed. But believe me, Raoul and Eugene at the same table...personality clash doesn’t quite say it. It was civil enough, thankfully.”

Hoping that had diffused Tomas’ worries, she shuffled a little closer and said, “Anyway, that’s not the good news I was going to tell you.”

shmband · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **shmband** on Mon Dec 20, 2010 7:14 pm

As uncomfortable as it was knowing that that creep had been having dinner with his wife and her friends in his own home, Tomas contained himself with a deep breath. He had never had any reason to doubt or mistrust Abigail, and his rational side knew quite well that there was nothing to worry about. It was his emotional side that got riled up.

When Abi mentioned about some other good news, he tilted his head quizzically. She smiled enigmatically at him a moment longer, and suddenly it occured to him.

“Oh my gosh!” he exclaimed, “You’re...are you really?”

They had been trying for a baby for almost six months, and although the doctors had said you should try for at least a year before getting checked out, it was something that had played on his mind a lot for a while. Though he had barely thought about it whilst in South Africa, his excitement welled up at the thought that their time may finally have arrived.

Awesomeocalypse · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Awesomeocalypse** on Mon Dec 20, 2010 8:02 pm

Elsewhere, set aside from the hustle and bustle of daily suburban life, a man sat in a large black SUV with tinted windows to prevent passerby from peeking inside. The man inside, although he didn't look it, could possibly be the worst nightmare for anyone who did dare even glance inside the vehicle. At the present moment, he was preoccupied with a small computer that was conveniently sized to fit inside a pocket. A man by the name of Thomas Muller.

Quickly opening a program which he had received from very important people in very important places a few years back, the man typed in the name Thomas Muller, but was disappointed when no results came up. The program was tied into every major database across the nation, including DMV records, criminal records, hospital files, dental files, the FBI, CIA, and every police station in every state. The man was intrigued when a common name, such as Thomas Muller, didn't retrieve anything at all. He decided to resort to a more unprofessional approach, and typed the name into Google. At the top, Google recommended to the man that he might be searching for a Tomas Dean, formerly Möller, a rather important simulation designer who works for Marius-Jacobs. Switching from Google to the dossier on the man he was searching for, he discovered that the man he was looking for did, in fact, work for Marius-Jacobs, a very well-known aerospace company. Angry at the fact that whoever had assembled the dossier had made such a mistake, the man cursed under his breath. This wasn't the first time such a mistake had been made, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

Returning to the program used solely for tracking people down, the man type in Tomas Dean and immediately found everything he needed to about him. Tomas lived in Deep River, Connecticut with his wife Abigail. No children. And so on a so forth. For the present moment in time, all the man needed was an address, which was printed as clear as day on the small monitor. Switching to a rather secretive airline service's website, he booked the next flight to Connecticut and booked a rental car to be waiting for him at the airport upon arrival. The man had flown through the airline multiple times before, so he had no need to call to explain how to properly charge his account for the flight, which was a very deep offshore account meant for such occasions.

Pulling the SUV out of the ally, the man began his drive towards the airport. Whoever this man was, he was well-connected and had ties to some very important people. People with power. Power enough to allow the man to wander, virtually undetected, across the nation, and if need be, the world. There was nowhere the man couldn't go, nothing the man couldn't get, and nobody the man couldn't find. Which was exactly his job. To find people. And then to make sure that they were never found again.

His next target: Tomas Dean.

tobisquestion · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **tobisquestion** on Tue Dec 21, 2010 12:57 am

Abi smiled sweetly and shook her head.

“Not yet my love.” She said in a near whisper, “But the good news is that you have come home on exactly the perfect day.”

She fixed his gaze for a moment, but her husband was a scientific man, and his aptitude did not lie in reading between the lines or taking hints. When he simply stared back at her, as though waiting for the punchline, she put her cheek against his and whispered in his ear.

“...to try again. And since we have some time right now...”

With that, she took hold of his tie and slowly fell back onto the long modular chair arrangement, taking him down with her.

shmband · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **shmband** on Tue Dec 21, 2010 1:55 am

The news that Abi wasn’t pregnant was a punch in the gut, especially after the build up. “Oh”, he murmered, trying to put on a brave face. But her next equivocal remark set his mind racing, and for a moment he panicked, wondering if he should know what he meant. Thankfully, in her kindness, she solved the mystery she had set out herself, and his eyes widened a little.

Feeling a tug at his tie, he turned his head to kiss her again as they collapsed onto the sofa, taking his arm away one last time only to push a button on the remote control which was sat on the coffee table. In response there was a quiet chorus of whirring, as the lights dimmed, and the automated venetian blinds rolled down...

[ooc – I think that seems as good a place as any to snap the clapper-board on scene 1....before any forum rules get broken...]

Awesomeocalypse · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Awesomeocalypse** on Tue Dec 21, 2010 8:39 am

"Cellular phones aren't allowed on flights, sir. They interfere with the plane's systems." a flight attendant said, looking at the phone that was vibrating next to the only occupant of the small, yet comfortable plane. The man didn't look friendly. His face was weathered and scarred, his eyes dark and unforgiving. His hands looked like hands that had done things that some never wish of even knowing about. Upon the flight attendant's words, the man slowly looked up at her. She took a step back, as if evil itself had taken hold of her.

"You must be new to the airline. So let me give you a piece of advice, walk away and never let me see you again." the man said coldly. His facial expressions were unreadable, his eyes seemed to ignite into flames. The flight attendant remained, however her pose had shifted from an authoritative stance to one of fear and retreat. She was new, but not to being a flight attendant. She knew she was right about the cell phone and that they could easily get off course because the navigation was set awry from the phone. She didn't move. "But..."

The soft thump from the silenced gunshot was all but unheard. The man had pulled the gun out with such speed, the flight attendant had no time to react. She may not have even seen the weapon at all, but it didn't matter to the man. He quickly rose from his seat and caught the woman's body before it collapsed to the ground. Holstering his weapon, he wrapped his arms under the woman's and dragged her body to the back of the plane and sat her in a seat in the back. Blood had already began to seep through her shirt, so he grabbed a blanket and lay it over top of her. They would find the body later when the cleaners came to clean the plane.

Moving to the front of the plane, the man knocked on the cabin door and was granted entrance without any hesitation. "Excuse me, I've just killed your flight attendant, so you will have to bring me my drinks from now on." the man said looking at the two pilots. They exchanged panicked looks, but the man had already returned to his seat. Picking up the small computer which had been vibrating, he saw that he had been e-mailed a map of commonly visited locations by Tomas Dean. This list had been generated by a collection of newspaper articles that noted locations, check and credit card purchases, and waiting lists. At the present moment, this wouldn't help the man as his first stop was still the Dean residence. However, it may prove useful later.

"What can I get you to drink, sir?" one of the pilots asked, looking to see the flight attendant's body in the back of the plane.
"I would like a Sprite with ice and a bag of pretzels." the man said, still staring down at his computer.
"Um, sir? Cell phones aren't allowed to be on during flight."

tobisquestion · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **tobisquestion** on Tue Dec 21, 2010 9:43 am

Saturday, June 16th
10:10am

Abi stepped up to the mirror and fastened on a pair of earrings. Glancing sideways out the window, she checked the sky carefully. It certainly seemed like a beautiful day to spend on a boat. Throughout most of her life she’d never been too good on water, but having a husband who rubbed shoulders with a lot of professor types, and living so near to the Connecticut river, she’d found a lot of their friends owned boats and loved to invite people out on them. So she had more or less learned to stomach it.

She stepped back and checked her outfit one last time; a dark brown A-line skirt with pink detail, flat knee boots, and a light pink wrap-top with matching cardigan. Abi wasn’t the sort to agonise over how to dress, but Tomas’ work socials were always difficult to pitch right. This outfit, she thought, hit the notes well; smart enough to look good, conservative enough for the science crowd and their wives (who by and large were her and Tomas’ seniors by some years), and most importantly, warm enough for the marina, which always seemed to have a chill no matter how the sun shined.

As she put everything away she realised that it had escaped her which marina today’s event was at. Stepping into the doorway she called down the stairs, “Tom, you remember which one we’re going to, right?”

Asking questions as thought she was making sure he knew the answer was a long mastered art.

shmband · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **shmband** on Tue Dec 21, 2010 10:59 am

Even the simple task of loading up the dishwasher seemed like a strain after a late, large breakfast. But Tomas knew they were going to be out all afternoon, and he knew Abi hated leaving the house in a mess. He was already dressed and ready, in black Chinos and a cream coloured shirt, currently with the sleeves rolled up and collar button left open.

Today's get together was going to be a regional event, so lots of Marius-Jacobs employees from all over the north-eastern states. And although Tomas wasn't involved in any especially high-profile projects at the time, he expected that many of his colleagues would be eager to hear about the trip to South Africa, and in particular the seminars given by the eminent Professor Van der Merwe; an honorary board member of the company.
And he'd already rehearsed in his own head the most concise way to cover all the main details, since he would no doubt have to tell the story many times to many different people today. But at least there would be free drinks.

"Three Belles Marina," he called out in response to Abi's question. "In Niantic. Shouldn't take more than a half hour to get to."

He closed the appliance and walked out into the living room, checking his coat to make sure it had everything he'd need. It could, he thought to himself, turn into a tiring day, but he was pleased at least Abi had been able to cancel her lessons to come with him.

tobisquestion · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **tobisquestion** on Tue Dec 21, 2010 4:34 pm

Abi hadn't realised the party was quite so far out, but considering Tomas had travelled all the way to Long Island after a full day of work to see her play in concert, it seemed only fair! She grabbed her purse and made sure everything was left in order, then made her way downstairs. Tomas was already getting his stuff together also. She smiled at him and winked cheekily.

"I didn't realise those were actually your day clothes, I thought that was just for breakfast." she teased, reassuring him with a kiss on the cheek. Men didn't know how easy they had it when it came to planning an outfit!

She went to the front door and stepped outside to pick up the paper. As usual, it hadn't quite made it as far as the doorstep. Picking it up of the gravel, she turned to bring it in...but stopped as she caught a glimpse of the headline. She wouldn't normally read the paper until she had time to give it attention, but something caught her interest.

Walking back into the house, she said to her husband, "How about that...you know anyone in your business called Thomas Muller?"

shmband · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **shmband** on Wed Dec 22, 2010 1:50 am

Tomas shook his head and grinned at his wife's teasing. There was no need to answer, she was just amusing herself.

Satisfied that everything was in order, he picked up his cell phone. He wrinkled his nose, noting that the battery was pretty low. Probably didn't matter, who would he need to call today anyway? Abi was coming with him, and anybody from work who could possibly want to pester him was going to be somewhere on that marina. He slipped it into his jacket anyway; it might be good for one call if they needed it.

He looked up as Abi came up to him holding out the newspaper, and he took it from her and looked.

"Can't say that I do." he said, scanning the story. According to the journalist, someone called 'Thomas Muller' who worked for Marius-Jacobs was due to stand in court later in the week as a prosecution witness against the company. Apparently, Marius-Jacobs was being indicted with breaking an arms embargo by selling prototype weapons to rogue states! Tomas' jaw dropped. "Gosh, I'm not heard anything about this. Wait, no wonder, this guy works in the weapons division. They operate completely seperately from the aerospace side. Scary though, he must know something pretty incriminating to be standing in court for it."

He set the paper down on the coffee table and looked at his watch.

"You know we'd probably better be going." he said, "And, uh, maybe best not to bring this story up! Might be someone at the party who's job is on the line because of it."

tobisquestion · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **tobisquestion** on Wed Dec 22, 2010 7:23 am

"Well as long as he's not going to cost you your job!" Abi said. "It happens too often that the bad eggs take the good ones down with them. But if you say he's in a different division, I suppose it should be OK."

She looked down at the headline again.

"You know," she added with a smirk, "if things worked the other way around then your married name would be almost the same as his. Then you'd be in trouble."

As they headed out she produced her car keys and offered to drive. It was an offer that would serve as useful leverage when the drinks came out and it came to deciding who should drive home.

shmband · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **shmband** on Wed Dec 22, 2010 8:34 am

Tomas obligingly got into the passenger side of the car; he was a confident navigator anyway.

"You got that right," he laughed at Abi's remark. "Don't think I ever once pronounced it quite right...Möller...Möller..."

He was completely aware of how rediculous he sounded trying to pronounce the German umlaut vowel.

"Guess it works out for me that I don't need to that often." he said, smiling, "By the way you look amazing honey. What's the German word for 'beautiful'? That's a word I'd get more milage out of."

At the same time he thought about their route; south on Chester Bowles Highway, and then straight along east on the I-95. Piece of cake. And even with Saturday traffic they would easilly be there in time for boarding the hired yaucht at 11:00.

A Deadly Case of Mistaken Identity (Closed)

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