the_lioness | (no subject)

Alanna's flat in the staff wing hasn't been used for much more than a place to nap and take a hot shower since she and Adam moved to Olau. The memories it holds make her reluctant to outright give it over to someone else, but when the idea strikes her to use it for something more, like Raph and his gym, she makes the decision easily. Why not? An investigation like this requires room to spread out and private places to talk.

After availing herself of the tub and blissfully hot water, she starts piling the belongings they had left -- most of which would be impossible to explain in Tortall, like Adam's video games and the modern bow he'd gotten her one year -- in the bedroom. The kitchen needs some cleaning, but it's empty of all but appliances. The couches, chair and table are all simple but serviceable. Baby stuff is stacked haphazardly in a corner; she has no intention of needing any of that again.

She locks the bedroom and pockets the key. When she considers doing the same to the spare bedroom, she smiles and pushes the door open instead. Maybe someone will find their insane mural and feel like adding someone to it (hopefully not West).

Paper, pens and folders are dropped on the table.

Finished, she gives the living room and kitchen area a nod and goes across the hall to the office to finish writing the notes she needs to post in the main bar.

[OOC: Open for any and all West things!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

A note will be delivered, probably by a waitrat: Philip Marlowe, Private Investigator, is offering help.

He sends his card, with room info and such.

When Alanna gets the note, she promptly sends one back:

Mr. Marlowe,

We'd certainly be interested in speaking with you about how you can help. Thank you for the offer. When you have a moment, please stop by the security office or the flat across the hall.

-Sir Alanna

So, not too much later, there will be a knock on the security office's door. "Excuse me?"

The voice is a deep bass, polite and strong. The man is tall, just over six feet, strong and not hideous to look at by any means. In his suit, Philip Marlowe gives a very professional image.

"Over here," Alanna calls out, voice raspy, without looking up from the report she's reading.

The door directly across the hall from the office is open, revealing a short redhead leaning against the arm of a couch that has surely seen better days. She frowns at the paper in her hand, then glances at the hall.

She too looks very professional, for a knight: riding leathers, Tortallan colors, boots and sword.

"Hullo. Can I help you?"

"I was hoping to be able to help you." The man offers a nod, moving over, taking off his hat. "Philip Marlowe, Private Investigator."

Alanna studies him for a moment, tossing the report on the couch with a flick of her wrist.

"Marlowe! Good to meet you. I'm Alanna," she says, standing up straight and tossing him a distracted smile. "Do you have experience investigating murders?"

"Nice to meet." He nods, letting something of a smirk appear. "A lot of it, for good or worse, and until now, just one of the many cases was left unsolved."

"Well."

One side of her mouth hints at a similar smirk.

"You'd know something of what we face, then, though it must be said that any murder investigation at the end of the universe carries its own peculiarities. Have you been here long?"

He nods to her. "A few months, and noticed the oddities of the place. Still, I would like to give a try at puzzling why it happened, and how did it."

"Where and when are you from?" she asks conversationally.

It matters, both because she's not going to turn any reports over to someone without that kind of information and because she imagines private investigating techniques vary a great deal between time periods.

"Los Angeles, California, 1935. I have my own business in investigation, worked previously at the DA office." For him, nothing more natural than exchanging some information.

Alanna nods.

The year tells her he probably won't want access to some type of lab.

"Are you good at reading people?"

He nods at the question. "Yes. Also at puzzling together strage details."

"What can you tell me about the murder itself, and the condition of the body?"

By way of an answer to the latter portion of his question, Alanna scoops the papers off the couch and silently hands him the autopsy report.

"We have no cause of death. A knife was found near his body."

And a cupcake.

He takes the report, and start going over it, nodding here and there, hum-ing at other parts... "No mention of possible defense wounds. I am guessing the body was too damaged to discern any?"

Alanna nods; it starts slow and becomes firm.

"Much too damaged." Beat. "The pictures are there," she says, pointing at the office. The board is just visible from where they stand. "As well as the suspect list."

He will move to watch the pictures, frowning. "Smashed, gutted, flayed, obviously who did this had some deep personal hatred, or is one sick individual."

"No footprints or other marks in the area? And of those suspect, who is able to cause damage of a ton of weight?" Of course, like a good investigator, he will check the obvious first, before going on.

"There were prints. Tracks," she says, tapping a finger against another picture. "Different sorts."

A faint smile.

"Most of them have powers of some kind. We can't rule out demon rabbits or other people tampering with the corpse, either."

"Very much a murder mystery. If it were not for my experience, I would say it looks like the plot to a dime novel where the writer backed himself into a corner."

He looks to Alanna. "The biggest clue is the lack of clues. Too deliberate, too convenient for the murderer."

"Very well, what would you prefer me to do? Seek out suspects, or work on the clues...?" She is the one in charge, after all.

"Or that the pertinent clues are hidden amongst false ones."

Like the cupcake.

"Both," answers Alanna. "Whatever you think you need to do to find answers. Within limits, of course."

"Of course. I will do my best in checking things."

He nods. "I think I will start with the other people investigating."

"Tom Riddle. River Song. Charlie," Alanna nods. "And feel free to use this space as you see fit."

She gives him a small smile.

"We appreciate it."

X and Alanna, especially.

"I will. I will see you later." He nods, and makes his way out.

Mystery. Crimes needing solution. Those things the hardboiled detective seeks.

"Until then, Marlowe."

Alanna nods back, watching him leave, then promptly sits back on the couch and exhales.

What a mess.