OOC:

Just to be clear, you want to inspect the room for the third time? You just finished checking the hotel room before interviewing the janitor...

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 120):

No. Missed the first time. Sorry

Leo nodded at the suggestion. "Sounds like a good plan."

The hotel staff patiently admitted the two men to the hotel room previously occupied by the deceased Jackson Elias for the second time that hour. Despite probing every orifice of the room for clues, they were unable to turn anything up, which was in retrospect unsurprising as the room had been thoroughly searched by many people in the last day. They had gone over it themselves the day before, then the police had gone over it, then the hotel staff had cleaned the room, then they had gone over it again not twenty minutes past.

Resigning themselves to the fact that even the combined sleuthing might of Sherlock Holmes and Hercule Poirot was unlikely to turn anything up from that room, the two men departed their hotel, got back into the car, and headed to the Upper East Side to the address given to them by David Jones.

A woman in her fifties greeted them at the door. "Yes, how may I help you?"

---

OOC:

Both Stanley and Leo get critical successes on their search of the room, but still find nothing.

11:04, Today: The Keeper, on behalf of Dr. Leonardo Elias, rolled 1 using 1d100 with rolls of 1. Spot Hidden.
11:04, Today: The Keeper, on behalf of Stanley Bishop, rolled 1 using 1d100 with rolls of 1. Spot Hidden.

"Sorry to bother you. We are looking for Mr and Mrs Duncan." Bishop said in a professional manner. Dealing with distraught parents could be a very touchy matter. He was glad to have Doctor Elias with him in case things grew difficult.

"I'm Mrs. Duncan. What can I do for you?" the woman asked, standing in the doorway.

"I'm sorry to trouble you. My name is Bishop, we are looking into the death of Walter Van Buskirk. We understand he was working on a case for you at the time of his death and hoped you might be able to help us." Bishop said as he handed her a card. This card had his name and below it the word detective.

"Yes, yes, Mr. Buskirk was looking into the disappearance of our daughter. We heard some time ago about his passing. Please, do come in. It's cold out," she said, opening the door so that the two men could enter the warm environs of the home within.

She lead them into the living room, where there was a bespectacled man maybe a few years her elder who sat reading a newspaper by the fire. He looked up as they entered the room, and she introduced them. "Honey, these men are detectives, and they're looking into the matter with Mr. Buskirk."

"Oh yes," he said, folding his newspaper and putting it on the side table next to his seat. "Please, have a seat. Anything we can do to help."

"Thank you." Bishop stomped lightly and wiped his feet off on the mat before stepping inside.

"We are trying to see if his death might have been related to one of his cases. We were hoping that Mr. Buskirk might have updated you on the progress of the investigation. Did he check in with you? When was the last time you heard from him?"

Leo looked around as if he were actually a detective. He acted just like a detective might under these circumstances, so the first thing in anyone's mind when they saw him would be 'detective'. He nodded his thanks in addition to Stanley's, and made himself comfortable as well, attention fully on the people discussing the disappearance of their daughter.

"Well, the last time we heard from him was a couple of weeks ago, just before he died. He didn't have much of an update - just said he thought maybe she was in Harlem somewhere," the man said.

"I am sorry to ask you to go over this again, but perhaps you can tell us what you told Mr. Buskirk. Perhaps if we retrace his work we can find some answers." Bishop said.

"We hired him to find our daughter, Andrea. She had been consorting with the wrong sorts of people, if you know what I mean. You know. Negroes. Negro foreigners. I don't know how she got involved with them, but she stopped going to church with us, and she started spending more and more time with these new friends she somehow made. She came home smelling of alcohol sometimes, which I'm guessing she got from them," her father said.

"Those people were up to no good, I told her!" interjected the mother.

"Anyway, one day Andrea just didn't come home. We hired Detective Buskirk to find her, because the police weren't working fast enough. But then he died. We figure she's probably gone too," he said, sadly.

Bishop listened and nodded, when they spoke of death he nodded more solemnly. He let a long moment pass before he continued.

"Did he go through the things in her room .. her diary  .. her address book?" Bishop asked, hoping to get permission to check her room. What he really wanted was a chance to check her coat pockets and hand bags.

"We gave him the full run o' the place, though I kept a close eye on him, just to make sure he wasn't up to any funny business. He wasn't. He went through all of her possessions, clothes, you name it trying to turn something up," the father said. An older man, he dressed respectably, wearing attire that seemed if not formal, not overly casual.

"Only thing he found was a slip of paper with an address written on it."

Bishop nodded.

"Do you know the address? Have you found anything else like match books or ticket stubs from a show or a club?" Bishop asked. He had hoped to look things over, but at lead a professional had already done so.

"I don't remember," the man said, shaking his head, looking a cross between sad and very angry. "Or I'd have gone there myself." It was likely an empty threat, made out of a feeling of powerlessness. This was not a man that was in any condition to pose a threat to anyone, nor did he seem to have the temperament for violence.

Bishop looked a bit sheepish at the man's anguish. Having lost his own wife and daughter he knew that there were no words.

"I know you have already been through a lot, but if I could impose on you to have a look at her room, perhaps we Mr. Buskirk might have overlooked something."

OOC:

Give me a Persuade roll.

10:07, Today: Secret Roll: Stanley Bishop rolled 97 using 1d100 with rolls of 97. Persuade.

Perhaps, too hardened by war and death Bishop came off colder than he intended.

The man shook his head. "I'm sorry Mr..."

"Bishop," his wife filled in, having been the only one to see the card.

"Mr. Bishop. I've been through that before once and I don't think I care to do it again. You'll just have to take my word for it - the man was very thorough. Besides, you can maybe call up his partner. I'm sure the detective would have left it in his files."

---

OOC:

What next for Leo and Stanley?

Bear in mind, all the other players are somewhat held up by this thread, their characters waiting on the return of Stanley and Leo. If there is something pressing that must be investigated now or never, let's do it. If something can wait, reconvening the group would be my preference.

OOC: My preference, too.

OOC:

We'll decide how to proceed after hearing back from Stanley. If you are both alright with reconvening the group, go ahead and move into Chapter 1.4: Dogs, Sorcerers, and Murderers.

"I am sure Mr. Buskirk was very thorough." Bishop said nodding in agreement.

"Sorry to have troubled you folks at this late hour. Please have a good night." Bishop said heading to the door.

Once the goodbyes were made, with Doctor Elias' agreement they headed back to the house.