Hunting the Hunter

[BBQLord]

"The pleasure is all mine... and thank you, for your consideration, earlier." I find myself responding warmly as Peter so quickly steers the conversation towards one of the things that interest me.

"I understand what you mean." I nod in agreement. "Sometimes the what and why are indeed so intimately tied to the who that the question of why eludes even the actor until the when and the where reveal an appropriate view of who she really was at the time."

"So whether I'm inspired by the selfish desire for experience with and knowledge of the arcane, the ultimately self-serving preservation of the Masquerade or the selfless drive to do good by laying a lingering and suffering soul to rest after so gruesome a death, I do not rightly know. All these motivations, and I dare say others besides, seem to work in concert to the point where my primary motivation is obscured. I am confident that if I stay the course and watch events unfold I will learn 'why'."

A bit ashamed of myself for rambling, I cast my eyes down for a moment. It was truly a blessed night if I found someone who looked past the banalities of what was and actively questioned the why, and not just the way of things but also his own ways... Or am I reading too much into the signs and making a fool of myself yet again?

"If you wouldn't mind me asking; if you were to venture a guess, why do you think you are here?"

[Majunior]

Peter shrugs. "I was out for my almost nightly stroll, looking for something of my own, and I ended up here. Fate, coincidence, or maybe dumb luck I suppose," he replies. "I picked up Aesop, and next thing ya know."

"So, Delia... sounds vaguely familiar. We know roughly where Inferno is. At the moment, it seems to be all we have for information."

[BBQLord]

Destiny, Fate, coincidence, luck... I suppose that in the end those are all the same anyway.

"You know of someone named Delia? Is she African-American? About this high?" I ask with some surprise. Somewhere I had hoped the homeless man was indeed crazy and Bradley's death just as crazy but it now appeared that perhaps madness had granted this homeless man insight... or perhaps it had been the other way around, such things were often hard to say.

[Majunior]

"I didn't pay much attention to her, but she was at the last court. Umm... if I recall correctly, it sounds about right," Peter responds.

[BBQLord]

"Hmmm." I wonder...

"I was considering calling the Econo Lodge to inform whether they would be so kind as to provide us with Delia's last name. Delia had made reservations and we can be all but certain her first was for the night of Bradley's death." I tell Peter, seeking his opinion no the matter.

[Majunior]

"Well... that could be helpful, but I don't know how feasible it is. I mean, most places don't just hand out customer information. Besides, it's a motel. Everyone's Brad Pitt or someone when they check in, because no one seems to use their real name. That being said, you could always get doubly lucky," Peter says after a bit of thought. "If one of us was, had, or could impersonate a person of authority... a cop, say... it could make asking at the desk a whole lot easier. But, that's not my thing..."

[BBQLord]

"Nor is it mine. But you are correct, of course. Nothing ventured, nothing gained and in this case neither outcome will cost more than the time of the phone call itself." I agree, while circumnavigating a puddle of water upon which I see reflected the neon lights spelling out the name of a hotel. The lights of the O and T are not functioning properly.

[Majunior]

"I would think a phonecall will be easy for them to shut down though. Police, people of importance, they show up in person with ID and paperwork. They don't just call."

Peter glances over to Aesop, who was still on the phone, before continuing. "Newspaper reporter then? That could explain just calling, but being from the paper isn't as likely to get an honest answer."

[Majunior]

Peter snaps his fingers. "That's it. I'm over complicating this. Why impersonate a cop or journalist or vending machine repair-man. I doubt night clerks are payed all that well. A simple bribe may very well be enough to get the information we want. If you want a level of dissociation, bribe someone to go in and bribe the desk jockey. That way, we're a few steps removed from the clerk if anyone comes calling to see who asked about things."