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Post by Jordanna on Dec 15, 2005 21:05:58 GMT -5
Miriam Van Linden wasn't sure what to expect as she approached the tired-looking facade of Grimalkin, Inc. Of course, she reminded herself, a mutant as obvious as Regina Dawson wasn't likely to have some flashy Fifth Avenue office.
She wavered for a moment between pressing the buzzer or just trying the doorhandle, then settled on the latter. Somewhat to her surprise, the door swung open, admitting her into an indifferent-looking reception area. There was no one to be seen--mutant or otherwise.
With slight trepidity Miriam looked around, uncertain whether some secretary was supposed to be there to meet her or not. Her eyes passed over the detective novels on the coffee table, and she felt a moment's uneasy skepticism of whether this "detective" she was to meet lived that role more in fiction than in real life. Shaking off that doubt with an effort, she moved slowly toward the door marked "R. Dawson, Investigator". She couldn't hear any evidence of a sound within.
Frowning, Miriam reached out and tapped her knuckles almost hesitantly against the door.
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Post by skybright on Dec 15, 2005 23:38:15 GMT -5
Regina Dawson shifted her feet quickly off of the desk -- Best to put up at least a modest veneer of professionalism, she thought; and called out "It's unlocked."
The door opened to reveal a well-dressed, good-looking woman with auburn hair. She wasn't wearing the white lab coat she'd had on their previous encounter, but Dawson still recognized her. She stood as the woman entered the office, glancing around with the eye of a trained observer. "Dr. Van Linden."
The women shook hands, and Daws gestured at one of the hardbacked client's chairs. "Won't you sit down?"
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Post by Jordanna on Dec 16, 2005 18:53:57 GMT -5
From their previous meeting, Miriam knew what to expect of Dawson's appearance, and did not stare or hesitate to shake hands.
"Thank you," she said, taking the offered seat. The chair was not particularly comfortable, and she had a sneaking feeling that was intentional. However, she had hardly come here to be comfortable.
"I'm sure you don't like to waste time, Ms. Dawson, so I'll try to come straight to the point." Miriam drew a deep breath. "The first thing you'll have to understand about me is that--I'm a mutant, too."
The hesitation was minimal, but Miriam didn't stop to congratulate herself for coming out with it so quickly, or to watch Dawson for a reaction. She forged on briskly, determined to lay everything on the table straight out.
"I suppose you'd call it a psychic ability. Usually, when I come near a dead body, I experience that person's last memories." She sighed. "That's why I became a medical examiner. I thought I could use my ability to find out murderers--and I have, many times. But now I have a case on my hands that I can't resolve on my own."
Explaining herself had been half the battle. Now the real point came.
"You might have read in the paper about the woman's body that was taken out of the river last week. When that body came into the morgue, thanks to my power, I relived her last few moments--and I saw her killer. It was this man." Reaching into her purse, Miriam took out a newspaper clipping: the photo which Henry Casselton had shown her. She passed it across the desk, identifying him with a grim voice even as Dawson read the photo's caption.
"Nicholas Tiernan, the pro-mutant activist."
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Post by skybright on Dec 18, 2005 14:59:10 GMT -5
Daws took a long moment before replying, on the pretense of studying the fuzzy newspaper clipping.
She hadn't been particulary surprised to discover that Dr. Van Linden was a mutant. She'd suspected as much the previous year -- it wasn't strictly true to say she could always tell another mutant, but a thousand small signs that her keener-that-usual senses could detect meant she was rarely wrong when she sensed one. As tense as the other woman had been about the announcement, though, Daws was willing to bet that it wasn't common knowledge -- those lucky enough to be able to hide their abilities generally did.
But that was far from the least of her problems right now. Daws finally set the clipping aside, cleared her throat, and fixed Dr. Van Linden with a gray cat-eyed stare.
"Doctor, I'm not going to insult your intelligence by asking if you know exactly who this man is and what he does. You're a mutant, so you know what he does to help people that normal humans wouldn't stoop to spit at. I'm not saying he's the salt of the earth by any means -- I know for myself that he's not -- but you're still leveling a pretty serious accusation against him. I know you know that.
"Now, I'm going to make two assumptions, Doctor. The first -- and believe me, it's not one I always make -- is that you're not lying to me about this. The second is that you haven't taken it to the police yet.
"At this point, I'm supposed to advise you to do that; murder isn't something that private badges are supposed to deal with themselves. I'm supposed to suggest you take this down to the local precinct. But," She added, before the other woman could speak, "I'm not going to do that -- because I don't like cops, and I don't trust them any further that I can spit a bowling ball."
Daws leaned forward gravely. "Now, with all that said I'm going to ask you three questions.
"Number one: is there any evidence, other than what you saw, to connect the dead woman to Tiernan?
"Number two: What about this woman's memories and death -- you're wrong, by the way, I hadn't heard about it -- makes you absolutely positive that Nicholas Tiernan murdered her, that it wasn't suicide or an accident or any other thing like that where Tiernan was just present?
"And number three," Daws leaned back in her chair, "What do you want me to do about all of this, and why should I do it?"
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Post by Jordanna on Dec 18, 2005 22:51:48 GMT -5
Miriam shifted slightly on that hard chair. Dawson's reaction wasn't the outright rejection or scorn she had feared, but the skepticism was still dismaying. She sat up straighter as the detective began to level her questions, determined to give a composed and articulate reply.
"Number one: is there any evidence, other than what you saw, to connect the dead woman to Tiernan?"
"No physical evidence, at least," Miriam replied ruefully. "If there was any of his DNA on her, it was lost in the river. I don't know if there are any witnesses somewhere who could link them, though."
"Number two: What about this woman's memories and death -- you're wrong, by the way, I hadn't heard about it -- makes you absolutely positive that Nicholas Tiernan murdered her, that it wasn't suicide or an accident or any other thing like that where Tiernan was just present?"
"Believe me, Ms. Dawson, I know murder from suicide." Miriam closed her eyes for a moment. "There's a very different kind of fear in each--and this woman's fear was the terror of someone who didn't want to die. As for how I'm sure Tiernan was involved..." She gave an involuntary shiver. "He was laughing when she died."
"And number three," Daws leaned back in her chair, "What do you want me to do about all of this, and why should I do it?"
Miriam spread her hands. "I need to know more about Tiernan. As you pointed out, I don't have any evidence worth taking to the police. If I had, I would go to them, even if it meant exposing myself and losing my entire career. All I want is something that would help me prove I'm telling the truth." She leaned forward earnestly, searching Dawson's eyes.
"Just find that much for me, and I'll take the responsibility for everything else myself. And if you don't want to do it for the sake of that dead woman..." She wrapped her arms around herself and shrugged. "Maybe it'll be enough to know that I'll pay whatever you ask. If what I have isn't enough, I've a friend I can turn to for more." She silently apologized to Henry for her presumption upon his friendship and generosity, even though she knew he would do anything he could for her.
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Post by skybright on Dec 21, 2005 13:46:35 GMT -5
Daws' respect for Dr. Van Linden had increased considerably during this inteview. She'd assumed the woman had some personal reason for contacting her -- a mutant relative in trouble or something similar. But instead the doctor was willing to sacrifice time, money, reputation -- not to mention personal safety -- for the sake of a woman she'd never even met.
She didn't envy Dr. Van Linden, even with her "normal" physical appearance and her mainstream life. Having to see the last memories of complete strangers . . . Daws would take fur and fangs any day. She straightened up in her chair and nodded.
"All right, Doctor. You've convinced me. I'll take your case, snoop around and see what I can dig up on Tiernan. I've run across some leads before that make me think he's not as clean as he looks; it'll remain to be seen whether I can turn up anything to link him to the dead girl."
She stood briskly, the prospect of a fresh case bringing (as it always did) a rush of excitement. "Once I've uncovered your solid evidence, we can discuss payment."
Daws glanced back down at the blurry photograph of Tiernan, sobering as she recalled the other woman's words -- He was laughing when she died. Daws touched the photograph with an outstretched claw. "Now -- aside from the fact that he's phenomenally wealthy and well-connected beyond Al Capone's wildest dreams -- I'd like to know what I can about what I'm up against. You wouldn't remember anything about Tiernan that might help me, would you? Anything about what you saw, or how he killed that woman?" She waited, patiently, as the other woman collected her thoughts.
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Post by Jordanna on Dec 21, 2005 21:26:27 GMT -5
As Dawson agreed to investigate, Miriam's expression had brightened with relief and gratitude--but when asked if she had any more details about Tiernan, she sobered again quickly.
"That's the other part that frightens me," Miriam replied quietly. "The victim's internal organs were ruptured--all but torn apart--but there was no outward damage to her body." She paused. "What's more, I'm sure Tiernan wasn't even touching her when that happened. From what I saw, he was several paces away."
She took a deep breath, and delivered her last bombshell. "I don't know how you'll take this, but... I believe Tiernan must be a mutant himself. I don't know how he could have done what he did without some kind of power--and besides, why would a rich and successful man risk so much standing up for mutants unless he had a personal interest?" She lowered her gaze and shook her head. "It's the only way I can make it make sense."
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Post by skybright on Dec 27, 2005 21:52:53 GMT -5
Ruptured organs, and dumped in a river . . . . Daws winced as memories came rolling back to her. It sounded suspiciously like a case she'd handled four years earlier -- not exactly a failed one, but one that had bothered her anyways. A man she'd been hired to protect for a day had turned up dead, months later -- in much the same condition as the nameless woman.
She nodded soberly as Doctor Van Linden finished explaining her suspicions about Tiernan. "All right, Doctor. Seems to me my best bet is sniffing around the bottom rungs of Tiernan's organization. I know of some people who work for him; might be they could lead me into a position to learn something."
Daws stood. "I'll hit some of the local underground spots tonight, see what turns up. For now, the best thing you can do is forget you were here today. Tiernan's got a lot of influence in a lot of different places; he finds out you're connected with me snooping around, things could get needlessly ugly for you. Don't contact me: I'll get in touch with you when -- if -- I turn anything up."
She grinned and extended her hand. "Congratulations, Doctor Van Linden. You just hired Grimalkin, Inc."
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Post by Jordanna on Dec 27, 2005 22:04:01 GMT -5
Miriam let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and gratefully clasped Dawson's hand. "Thank you." A worried shadow passed over her face, and she added, "And be careful. If this mess I think I've pieced together is even half true... I don't know what could happen."
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Post by skybright on Jan 3, 2006 0:37:58 GMT -5
Daws chuckled. Miriam Van Linden was a woman who cared about strangers -- that much was obvious. It was rare, in Regina Dawson's business -- rare and welcome. "Doc, I am always careful. It's the only reason this good-looking head of mine isn't mounted on somebody's wall yet."
She moved from behind the desk and ushered Dr. Van Linden to the office door. "I'll be in touch."
Daws took a deep breath as the other woman departed, leaning against the office doorjamb and scratching absently behind her ear. Well, Daws, we've got ourselves into something now. The inner voice that was partly her and partly her dead partner whispered.
"Yeah." She closed the office door behind her and sat back down at the desk.
"I'm just not sure what that something's gonna be."
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