Heathcliff sat down in his apartment, his mind reeling from what he learned about poor, young Lupe. He couldn't bear to look at the exploited girl too closely for fear his heart would break, yet. His thoughts drifted toward Rachel, and that wouldn't do, he couldn't face his ignorance tonight...

He still had the problem of Maria. It just wouldn't do for her to show up and start spelling things in phantasmal blood when he had the kind of guests that the Seneschal was likely to have. Since he had a couple of hours before he would ghoul that amoral prostitute downstairs, the Seneschal decides to keep himself busy with this quandary. "Maria? If you're listening...I'm going to check out that building now. I intend to keep my word to help you."

With that said, he walks out of his apartment and locks the door. He casts his dead eyes about the floor to confirm no one is about to observe him don the Cloak of Night...

Cloak


The Nosferatu is getting better at that all the time. Invisibly, Heathcliff walks toward the building his ghost had pointed out to him, hopeful that he'll discover what she intended him to find.

Heath finds a run-down apartment building, not unlike the one he just left. Two stories, looks like 10 to 12 units per floor, poorly-maintained parking lot, lots of crappy, beat-up cars, indifferently-maintained yard.

Heath sees the place bears a "Apartments for Rent" sign and advertises "Playground." He can see the recreational area in question, back behind the far end of the parking lot... a rickety-looking swingset, a single basketball hoop with a broken back board and a sandbox that was no doubt used as a litter box by every stray cat in the area. Two kids are shooting hoops, under the single, pale light covering that area.

The Nosferatu silently bemoans what passes for a playground in his city. Allowing a kid to play in that sandbox would likely be grounds enough for Protective Services to intervene on behalf of the child's welfare. Stifling a sigh, Staley settles down by the blacktop to watch over the young ones as they play. They aren't exactly the hardened criminals he thought he'd eavesdrop upon, but Heathcliff knew that children picked up many things, so he paid careful attention to their conversation, especially names and places they might mention.

While shooting hoops, the two boys - who look to be about 12 - are engaged in the simple, wholesome activity of trading rumors about which of the girls they know put out, and in what manner. Heath figures the boys must be pretty good friends, because they are able to kid each other about one's sister and the other's mama being a ho without violence breaking out. The one's expression gets more serious, though, when the jibe about his sister leads to him telling his friend about how their "crackhead landlord" told her she could spend some time on her knees to take care of their mama being a month behind on the rent.

Ah, youth, Heathcliff thinks fondly. He tries to recall the names of boyhood chums as he listens to their banter. When the discussion turns to the old 'crackhead landlord,' he feels sick to himself. He did all he could for these people when he was alive, now he's dead, breaking all the rules, and it's still nowhere near enough. He focuses on the task at hand to keep from despair. He has a lead. It's a good start.

He assumes the landlord lives on-site, from what he had overheard, so the Nosferatu leaves the boys to their game and waits for an unobserved moment to gain entry into the building.

Heathcliff notices people occasionally coming and going, but not that many. He figures he can probably walk in easily enough without anyone making a big deal about it. The door is unlocked, or perhaps the lock is broken. He can't open the door while Obfuscated without breaking Obfuscate, but he might be able to slip in behind someone as they go in, if he times it right.

Heathcliff decides that, even though it would be easy enough to gain entry, there are enough people about that he can wait for someone to slip in behind. He'd rather not reveal his presence here at the moment.

A little while later, a guy pulls into the parking lot, locks his car and activates its alarm, checks again, then heads inside.

The Nosferatu sees a man approach and tries to time this perfectly...it would be very awkward if he lost his Cloak now.

Barely


Heathcliff finds himself in an entryway. One wall is taken up with mailboxes, marked by apartment number. The man Heath followed in checks the box for 201, takes out a few things, then closes and locks the box. The doorway to the rest of the complex is propped open with a half-crushed beer can. The man goes down the hall and heads upstairs. Heath notices the first apartment has a brass "Manager" sign attached to the door.

Heathcliff notes which apartment number boasts the manager of these illustrious property, then looks to see if there is a last name listed on the corresponding mailbox. He wouldn't be surprised if there wasn't, and either way, he settles himself on the steps to watch for any interactions between residents that might yield useful information, and to think. How was he going to find out who killed Maria? Another wave of despair crashes over him. He had been so angry after he saw Lupe, his Beast so rankled, that he had been trying to solve these problems from a vampire's perspective. What would Beth think of his plans for Esmerelda? The answer disturbed him very much.

He was still a man, dammit. Yes, a man addicted to blood for the foreseeable future, and that can't be helped, but he didn't have to addict anyone else. Heathcliff has a flash of inspiration- he could set up a webcamera, couldn't he, in Lupe's room? He could record the tragic things her mother makes her do for men, and anonymously get them to the proper authorities. The system could help Lupe, if they knew about it. The neonate was much relieved at this thought.

His mind goes back to the necklace that the apparition had worn. Perhaps, if this landlord was the murderer, he would have kept it. Heathcliff resolved to search the man's apartment, which requires that he gain access, first. He looked at the mailbox. If he used his full Blood-strength, he could probably smash through it quickly, noisily, take his Cloak back up before anyone could catch him, then sneak in during the chaos that followed. That is, assuming the man was home. He resolves to wait and watch the residents for a few more minutes to see if he learns anything germane to his investigation. If not, he'll try to confirm the manager's presence by putting his ear to the door before he put his fist through the mailbox.

Heathcliff sees the manager's apartment is numbered 100. The corresponding mailbox doesn't have any name on it; in fact, few of the mailboxes include names, and in the case of those with names, the names are written on faded and peeling masking tape.

Listening at the manager's door, Heathcliff hears what sounds like two people interrupting and yelling at each other. They are tossing around words like "Obama" and "Republicans," suggesting the manager is probably watching some political pundit show.

Heathcliff nods. The manager was in. Good. He summons his Blood-strength, looks around to make sure no one will see him suddenly appear, then takes off the cloak long enough to punch his dead fist through Mailbox 100.

Punch out


Fist ringing in pain, Heathcliff pulls open the shattered mailbox, grabs the mail within, then summons his Cloak before anyone comes looking.

Cloak 3 sux


He glances at the mail, and finds it is addressed to a Mr. Anthony Harrison in Apartment 100. Heathcliff waits to see if Mr. Harrison will come running to find the cause of the noise, and give the Nosferatu an opening to slip into the man's apartment. Then, he can search it while he sleeps.

Unfortunately, Harrison's TV is apparently loud enough - or Harrison engrossed enough in what he's watching - that it masks the sound of Heathcliff's larceny.

Heath's still considering options, a Domino's delivery guy comes to the door. He glances at the broken mailbox as he heads into the building, then knocks on the manager's door.

A few seconds later, a thin man - younger than Heath had expected, though his blonde hair is thinning pretty badly - opens the door. "Hey man," the delivery guy says. "I think someone broke into your mailbox out there." He hikes a thumb toward the entryway.

"Wha....?" Harrison exclaims, his voice almost a whine. He steps out past the delivery guy to look at the mailbox, then stalks over there. "GodDAMN!" he hisses.

"Your pizza, man," the delivery guy says. "I gotta get to my next delivery."

Heath notices Harrison left his door open as he went to go check the mailbox burglary.

Heathcliff feels rather defeated in his inability to raise much of a ruckus, but tells himself it's the neighborhood, not him. They're used to gun shots, police sirens, and battering rams. How's a vampire to compete? At any rate, the opportunity created by the pizza's arrival, and sneaks into Harrison's apartment to have a look around. He'll wait until the man is asleep before he uncloaks and does a more thorough search of drawers and such. Heathcliff is struck with creepy this is, to be a fly on someone's unsuspecting wall, and shudders at the thought that Sebastian had watched him the same way. He tells himself he has a nobler purpose, and tries to believe that's enough.

Heathcliff forces himself to endure an hour or so of FOX News punditry along with Harrison. After that, he flips through channels for about 10 minutes, stopping to watch a few minutes of a gunfight from an old Arnold Schwarzenegger action film, dubbed into Spanish and playing on one of the Spanish channels. Finally, and mercifully, the apartment manager decides to go to bed. Leaving leftover pizza in the box and sticking the box in the fridge, he drinks a glass of water, then heads to bed. 20 minutes later, he's snoring.

Finally. Having to endure an hour of Hannity made the unabashedly leftist Heathcliff really, really want to find evidence that Harrison had something to do with Maria's death. Mindful that he is uncloaked, he takes the utmost care to be quiet as he looks through drawers, cabinets, anything he can find in the outer areas of the apartment before he looks about the occupied bedroom. He doubts he'll find the evidence he's looking for simply laying about, but you can learn a lot about someone by the inanimate company they keep.

Heathcliff finds things that clue him into Harrison's political views: right-leaning, but not in an extremest or racist or neocon way, but more a simple anti-tax/big government way... small-l libertarian. He discovers that Harrison is a member of the NRA, though he doesn't see any sign of a firearm anywhere in his apartment, and that he has an interest in sports cars way above his income level. Heath also learns that Harrison is a bachelor and something of a slob who likes micro-brews and higher-end pizza, and smokes pot, and has a fascination with porn involving white guys with black or Latina or Asian women

Crackhead may have been a reach on the children's part, Heathcliff understands now. He has found enough to say that Harrison would have been interested in Maria, if he knew her, and the kids outside had spoken of how the slumlord showed that interest. The NRA thing...Heathcliff knew where people kept their guns. They kept them in their bedrooms, which is exactly where the Nosferatu was headed. He's going to have to be careful, or this next part is going to be prematurely violent, and that won't do at all.

Heathcliff slowly creeps into the snoring Harrison's bedroom and looks for a nightstand where the man might keep a weapon, so that the Nosferatu could dispose of it before it became a problem.

Heathcliff notices a nightstand right next to the guy's bed, naturally enough. He also notices the guy has a holstered pistol hanging from his bedpost. Harrison is sleeping soundly.

Heathcliff nods to himself. This is going to be tricky. He tiptoes into the room and tries to remove the gun from the holster without waking the man. If he can swing it, he'll deposit it in the man's toilet tank for him to discover later, long after Heathcliff has presumably left.

As Heath reaches for the gun, his Cloak of Night fades, as he's chosen to interact with the environment in a direct manner.

Roll Dex + Stealth; Heath can get up to a +2 bonus by taking extra time. On a failed roll, Harrison will get a Per check to see if he wakes up.


Stealth roll passed


Taking his time, Heathcliff is able to unholster Harrison's pistol with nearly complete silence, making no noise having even a chance of stirring the man from his sleep.

The neonate didn't know what he had been worried about. Awake and alert people seldom took note of Heathcliff when he wasn't actively making his presence known. With the gun tucked into the toilet tank, Heathcliff returns to the man's room and looks to investigate the nightstand.

Go ahead and do another Dex + Stealth check, same modifiers for time, -1 circumstance penalty.


Failed

sleepyhead


Heathcliff finds the nightstand drawer sticks, and as he tries to open it, he knocks over an empty beer bottle on top of the nightstand. It falls over with a clunk and starts to roll to the floor, but Heathcliff manages to catch it. His eyes dart over to Harrison, but Harrison continues to sleep, oblivious to Heathcliff's presence and his fumbling about.

The neophyte burglar nearly had a heart attack, thinking he had woken Harrison for sure, before Heathcliff remembers he doesn't use a heart anymore. Thank goodness for that, he thinks to himself wryly, and goes back to combing through the sleeping slumlord's personal chattel. That's when he realizes what he's been looking for this whole time...photos of Maria. Proof that Harrison knew her. Heathcliff looks around the bedroom then, searching for anything that might be a collection of photographs.

He doesn't find anything of the sort. He does find still more porn, of the same type as before. In Harrison's sock drawer, he finds another revolver, semi-automatic, loaded. He does find a photo book, on the top shelf of his closet, beneath a pair of dress shoes. It contains photos from Harrison's childhood and adolescence, through early adulthood. Comparing the young man in the photos to Harrison now, Heathcliff figures the most recent photos were taken at least 5 years ago.

Roll another Dex + Stealth check at +1 for Heath to conduct his search quietly.


Stealth check passed


Glad that Harrison appears to be a pretty sound sleeper, Heathcliff takes his time looking around. He even gives the nightstand another shot, and there finds a third pistol, also loaded, as well as a few boxes of condoms and bottles of lubricant... and a flash drive for a computer.

Sweet Lord, this man does love his pistols, Heathcliff thought. And his porn. He was tempted to take both from Harrison, but stealing is wrong, the blood-sucker amused himself to think. He's nearly ready to give up and leave the man to his slumber when he spies the flash drive in the nightstand, an unusual place for such a device. Heathcliff retrieves it and, after securing it in his pocket, decides its time to go. He'll need to check the hallway from the peephole before he opens the door and make sure there's no one about to see him. Heathcliff decides to leave the pistol he placed in the toilet right where it is.

Heathcliff waits until he's sure nobody is around, then unlocks the several locks and chains closing the apartment manager's door shut before departing. He doesn't see anyone in the hallway, though he does see two men talking at the back of the parking lot as he heads out.

The Nosferatu chuckles to himself as he thinks about the manager wondering how the hell his pistol ended up in the toilet, when he eventually finds it. He felt a perverse kind of pleasure at having used his Disciplines to toy with the man's wits, which he discounted to the Blood. Surely, I'm not a malicious man, he tells himself. When he sees the hoods in the parking lot, he decides to put the Cloak back on and observe them for a few minutes before he returns to the office to check the drive.

He sees two men engage in a quick exchange of money for envelopes of white powder.

Heathcliff is not surprised at all by what he's just seen. He takes care to learn their faces before going back to the office, taking the Cloak off within the real shadow around the corner from the entrance of Greevey's building. It's getting late. Heathcliff doesn't like to stay the day in this neighborhood, if he can help it, so he's anxious to check out the files and depart for home.

Heathcliff has no difficulty getting back to his office. Once there, it is easily enough to access the flash drive, upon which he finds numerous files, each with a woman's name and a date, all dated within the past 6 months. Each file contains amateurish porn: pictures of a male engaged in sexual acts with a different African-American or Hispanic woman, the pictures shot from the point of view of the male and thus never showing his face. Some of the women in the pictures look to be in their teens. Although the expressions on the faces of many of the women are less than pleased, none of the pictures show anything particularly violent. Indeed, the pictures repeat scenes common from any number of porn videos.

Heathcliff drums his fingers along the desk as he watches Harrison's amateur porn collection. This is not the evidence he seeks, though it is quite entertaining. Oh, my, yes. It looks as though Harrison was involved beyond collecting though, Heathcliff thinks as he reviews the list of names and dates. The Nosferatu finally does what he should have done from the very start- research. Heathcliff pulls up the Google machine and starts with Maria Elizalde. After that, he'll look up the girls on this list, perhaps there is some sort of connection.

Heathcliff realizes quickly that he has little to go on, as Harrison's files are identified ony by first name and an initial as well as the date, such as "Anita S, 12-4-09" Finding much is going to be difficult and probably time-consuming. He also realizes that tomorrow he's supposed to spend some time with his daughter. With those facts in mind, he jumps into the task.

As the night moves toward morning, Heath has been able to identify two of the women in the pictures. One, Anita Santiago, has a Facebook page. She's a HS senior. She looks much happier in the pictures on her site than she does in the one on the flash drive.

Heath identifies another, Cheryl Washington, by a mug shot photo included wth a newspaper article a couple years back, at which time she'd been arrested for involvement with a stabbing. He's sure she's the woman in the photos on the flash drive, based on a distinctive scar along her left jawline. He finds out that charges against her for the knife incident were dropped in exchange for testimony. The fact she has multiple past arrests for prostitution probably explains why she looks somewhat more at ease in the photos than do some of the others.

Heath isn't able to locate a Facebook (or any other social network site) for Maria, but he does find a Facebook site that includes a memorial for Maria. The site is that of one Lucinda Reyes, who refers to Maria as a classmate. He also notices that her page hasn't been updated for more than a month. A news article suggests why this might be the case: she was reported as a missing person around the time of her last page update. Those with information as to her whereabouts are encouraged to contact the police.

The civil servant is at first quite pleased with the results of his web-searching skills; but this satisfaction wilters after he finds Maria's friend is missing. He sighs. Another mystery to solve, and he has a date with his daughter. He'll tell Maria about Lucinda tomorrow; he doesn't have the time to do anything about it tonight, as the clock reveals its near dawn, and he doesn't know how she'd take the news. He's going to have to stay here at Greevey's tonight after all, he admits reluctantly, so he turns off the computer, locks up the apartment, and goes to lay his head on the futon in the bedroom. He lets the dark night slip away as his last thoughts before sleep are of seeing Rachel's smiling face tomorrow.