Post by Deleted on Nov 9, 2022 0:22:07 GMT -5
[ ONE-SHOT Follow up to Bones with @berengar ]
With Stormcrest headed back to the castle to give information to Aveline and send an undertaker, Warren still had a little more work to do. There would have been no reason to have the kid stay much longer, not when all that was left was to ask some elderly people some questions. Warren wished the previous clerk was still working. The new, younger woman didn't seem to know much and everything he needed seemed to pre-date her occupation of the front desk, but what could you do?
As she gathered up whoever might have still been in the rooms upstairs, he returned his attention to the older couple who had been playing chest. "The two of you recognized Whitby. Were you also familiar with Long?"
The older man shrugged. Not surprising. Older men didn't often pay attention to the comings and goings of other men, at least not the ones that were married. The woman, however, had more to say on the matter. "We're the ones who stay in apartment seven, across from him," the disapproval in her tone was obvious. "We told them he was probably dead in there. That smell...ain't no other smell like that but rot."
"Indeed, ma'am," Warren said, hands behind his back. "The girl behind the desk said that she hadn't seen Long in the last week. Is that true for you as well?"
"Mhm," she confirmed. "Which I thought was awfully strange 'cause usually he's in and out at all times of the day and night. Marve and I thought he up and left."
"And before he disappeared, did he have visitors often?"
She shook her head from side to side. "Every once in a while, but not that much. Maybe two or three times the whole time he's been here? We've been here since...when was it, Marve?"
"'Bout three Aestas' back," the older man said. Warren nodded.
"That's right. And Long moved in at the end of Ver. Real quiet 'cept for the comin' and goin' but always polite when we spoke to 'em."
"Did you get a look at his visitors? Were they the same person or different people each time?"
"Can't be sure," the older woman said. "Only saw one of 'em. The others came real late, we were in bed. Only know they came 'cause we heard the footsteps. But the one was a woman. Real pretty, but a little young for him if you ask me. She didn't stay for long."
"And when did this woman visit?"
"Not long ago, come to think of it. Right at the end of Aestas, so maybe five or six days before...well, you know."
Warren nodded, sighing as the woman by the desk came down with two more people - another older woman accompanied by a young girl. "What about Whitby? He moved in six to seven days before Long's last visitor, is that correct?"
"Yep," she nodded, chewing the skin of her lip. "Now he was a weird one. He wouldn't talk to ya or look at ya even if he walked by and you spoke to 'em. Real rude. He stayed in his room all the time, only came out for the Loo and only left the building once a day, I think to get somethin' to eat 'cause he always came back with a real nice meal."
Warren scratched the scruff on his face, trying to put it all together, and nodded. "Did you ever see Whitby and Long interact? Fight, talk, anything?"
The old woman had to think about that for a few moments, but eventually shook her head. "No, I don't think so."
"Actually..." the young girl who had come down with the other elderly lady stepped up, looking up at Warren. She had to be around ten or eleven...nearing her mandatory time in the military. "I think I saw somethin' weird with them, Sir."
Warren squatted down, resting his elbows on his knees so the young girl wouldn't have to crane her neck to look up at him. "Alright, what can you tell me?" He asked her, a quiet softness to his voice that he hadn't bothered to give to the others.
"I was goin' downstairs to get my gramma something to eat, and the man in eight and the man in four were in the hallway. They weren't sayin' anything...at least, not that I could hear. They were just starin' and then when they saw me, the man in eight hurried back into his room and the man in four went downstairs and left. I dunno what was goin' on but it didn't feel good, ya know?"
Warren nodded. "It made you nervous?"
"Yeah," she said, looking down at him.
"That's good, kid. That just means you've got good instincts. You always listen to those instincts, okay? When did this happen?"
"Um...maybe eight or nine days ago?" She said. "I don't remember exactly."
"That's alright. Have you seen or heard anything else?"
"Um...I don't think so," she shrugged her shoulders. "Sorry."
"No, it's okay. You did good, little Miss. How about your grandmother, there? Do you know if she saw or heard anything."
They both turned and looked at the older woman, who was watching them and smiling, but the little girl just shook her head. "She isn't...all there, anymore. Comes and goes, if you know what I mean."
"I do," he said, sighing. He stood up and looked at the woman behind the counter, gesturing to the group. "Is this everyone?"
"Yeah," the woman nodded. "It was them, Long, and Whitby. We had one other tenant, a middle-aged man, but he moved out recently."
Sighing, Warren nodded once again and walked over to the desk, picking up the ring of keys that Berengar had left. "Whitby cut holes in the walls between apartments eight and six, and six and four. You'll have to have those repairs. The soldiers I just sent off will be sending an undertaker to come get Long's...remains. I'll stay until he gets here."
He began to walk away, but the young woman behind the counter grabbed him by the sleeve of his jacket. "Are we...in danger? Is that man going to come back?"
Warren looked at her, and then back at the small group of tenants that remained. Elderly people and a child. "Honestly, ma'am, I don't know. I wouldn't think he would be stupid enough to return, but I've seen people do dumber things. I'll assign someone to patrol the area for the first half of the season, but please make sure you report it if you ever see him here."
She nodded, and he went back upstairs, unlocked room four, and entered. Although Ber had already looked it over, he wanted to check for himself.
The room looked near the same as the others had. This one also had a chest, and as he opened it, he peered down into it to find nothing of value. There was an indention left on the clothes, and Warren pulled the bag of coin from his pocket to check. That had been where Stormcrest had pulled it from. He fished around underneath the clothes but found nothing of value. He checked all the same places they had before. Beneath the bed, between the mattress, in the furnace, and behind the bookshelf. He emptied out the tin of tea entirely and found nothing. The cabinets had some clean dishes inside of them. There was nothing stuffed into the couch cushions and no loose floorboards, no other holes cut into the walls that he could find.
Sighing, Warren sat on the couch and looked around the room. He felt like he was missing something, maybe missing a lot, but he couldn't put a finger on it. He had to have been there for a while, because he heard someone coming upstairs. Standing, he walked back over to the tin of tea and tucked it away, closing the tin and pushing it awkwardly into his pocket. Then he exited the room and locked it up once more, turning to find the undertaker and another man there with him. "Lieutenant Woodwick?" The undertaker asked, and Warren nodded.
"In here," he said, leading the man into room eight. Even the undertakers expressions soured under the smell, and Warren flipped the chest open to show them. "I've looked, but please check the body for any further items before it's buried. If you find anything, have it brought directly to me."
"Next of kin?"
"None. His name is Frederick Long. That's all I've got for you." The men nodded, and Warren made his way back downstairs, returning the keys to the woman behind the desk. Then he walked over to where the young girl was, and looked down at her. "When they come downstairs, you cover your nose, okay?" She nodded, and maybe ten minutes later the two men came downstairs lugging the chest. Warren stood in front of the girl, blocking her view of it as they carried it through the room and out the door. Once the chest was loaded onto a horse drawn wagon, Warren turned back to the woman behind the desk and the tenants.
"Those rooms can be cleaned out now. Remember to let someone know if you see Whitby." He scanned the room once more, frowning, then nodded. "Thank you for your time."
With that, he stepped out of the inn and into the cool air. His eyes glanced up toward the clouds. Rubbing his face, his boots hit cobblestones and he began his walk back to the palace.
As she gathered up whoever might have still been in the rooms upstairs, he returned his attention to the older couple who had been playing chest. "The two of you recognized Whitby. Were you also familiar with Long?"
The older man shrugged. Not surprising. Older men didn't often pay attention to the comings and goings of other men, at least not the ones that were married. The woman, however, had more to say on the matter. "We're the ones who stay in apartment seven, across from him," the disapproval in her tone was obvious. "We told them he was probably dead in there. That smell...ain't no other smell like that but rot."
"Indeed, ma'am," Warren said, hands behind his back. "The girl behind the desk said that she hadn't seen Long in the last week. Is that true for you as well?"
"Mhm," she confirmed. "Which I thought was awfully strange 'cause usually he's in and out at all times of the day and night. Marve and I thought he up and left."
"And before he disappeared, did he have visitors often?"
She shook her head from side to side. "Every once in a while, but not that much. Maybe two or three times the whole time he's been here? We've been here since...when was it, Marve?"
"'Bout three Aestas' back," the older man said. Warren nodded.
"That's right. And Long moved in at the end of Ver. Real quiet 'cept for the comin' and goin' but always polite when we spoke to 'em."
"Did you get a look at his visitors? Were they the same person or different people each time?"
"Can't be sure," the older woman said. "Only saw one of 'em. The others came real late, we were in bed. Only know they came 'cause we heard the footsteps. But the one was a woman. Real pretty, but a little young for him if you ask me. She didn't stay for long."
"And when did this woman visit?"
"Not long ago, come to think of it. Right at the end of Aestas, so maybe five or six days before...well, you know."
Warren nodded, sighing as the woman by the desk came down with two more people - another older woman accompanied by a young girl. "What about Whitby? He moved in six to seven days before Long's last visitor, is that correct?"
"Yep," she nodded, chewing the skin of her lip. "Now he was a weird one. He wouldn't talk to ya or look at ya even if he walked by and you spoke to 'em. Real rude. He stayed in his room all the time, only came out for the Loo and only left the building once a day, I think to get somethin' to eat 'cause he always came back with a real nice meal."
Warren scratched the scruff on his face, trying to put it all together, and nodded. "Did you ever see Whitby and Long interact? Fight, talk, anything?"
The old woman had to think about that for a few moments, but eventually shook her head. "No, I don't think so."
"Actually..." the young girl who had come down with the other elderly lady stepped up, looking up at Warren. She had to be around ten or eleven...nearing her mandatory time in the military. "I think I saw somethin' weird with them, Sir."
Warren squatted down, resting his elbows on his knees so the young girl wouldn't have to crane her neck to look up at him. "Alright, what can you tell me?" He asked her, a quiet softness to his voice that he hadn't bothered to give to the others.
"I was goin' downstairs to get my gramma something to eat, and the man in eight and the man in four were in the hallway. They weren't sayin' anything...at least, not that I could hear. They were just starin' and then when they saw me, the man in eight hurried back into his room and the man in four went downstairs and left. I dunno what was goin' on but it didn't feel good, ya know?"
Warren nodded. "It made you nervous?"
"Yeah," she said, looking down at him.
"That's good, kid. That just means you've got good instincts. You always listen to those instincts, okay? When did this happen?"
"Um...maybe eight or nine days ago?" She said. "I don't remember exactly."
"That's alright. Have you seen or heard anything else?"
"Um...I don't think so," she shrugged her shoulders. "Sorry."
"No, it's okay. You did good, little Miss. How about your grandmother, there? Do you know if she saw or heard anything."
They both turned and looked at the older woman, who was watching them and smiling, but the little girl just shook her head. "She isn't...all there, anymore. Comes and goes, if you know what I mean."
"I do," he said, sighing. He stood up and looked at the woman behind the counter, gesturing to the group. "Is this everyone?"
"Yeah," the woman nodded. "It was them, Long, and Whitby. We had one other tenant, a middle-aged man, but he moved out recently."
Sighing, Warren nodded once again and walked over to the desk, picking up the ring of keys that Berengar had left. "Whitby cut holes in the walls between apartments eight and six, and six and four. You'll have to have those repairs. The soldiers I just sent off will be sending an undertaker to come get Long's...remains. I'll stay until he gets here."
He began to walk away, but the young woman behind the counter grabbed him by the sleeve of his jacket. "Are we...in danger? Is that man going to come back?"
Warren looked at her, and then back at the small group of tenants that remained. Elderly people and a child. "Honestly, ma'am, I don't know. I wouldn't think he would be stupid enough to return, but I've seen people do dumber things. I'll assign someone to patrol the area for the first half of the season, but please make sure you report it if you ever see him here."
She nodded, and he went back upstairs, unlocked room four, and entered. Although Ber had already looked it over, he wanted to check for himself.
The room looked near the same as the others had. This one also had a chest, and as he opened it, he peered down into it to find nothing of value. There was an indention left on the clothes, and Warren pulled the bag of coin from his pocket to check. That had been where Stormcrest had pulled it from. He fished around underneath the clothes but found nothing of value. He checked all the same places they had before. Beneath the bed, between the mattress, in the furnace, and behind the bookshelf. He emptied out the tin of tea entirely and found nothing. The cabinets had some clean dishes inside of them. There was nothing stuffed into the couch cushions and no loose floorboards, no other holes cut into the walls that he could find.
Sighing, Warren sat on the couch and looked around the room. He felt like he was missing something, maybe missing a lot, but he couldn't put a finger on it. He had to have been there for a while, because he heard someone coming upstairs. Standing, he walked back over to the tin of tea and tucked it away, closing the tin and pushing it awkwardly into his pocket. Then he exited the room and locked it up once more, turning to find the undertaker and another man there with him. "Lieutenant Woodwick?" The undertaker asked, and Warren nodded.
"In here," he said, leading the man into room eight. Even the undertakers expressions soured under the smell, and Warren flipped the chest open to show them. "I've looked, but please check the body for any further items before it's buried. If you find anything, have it brought directly to me."
"Next of kin?"
"None. His name is Frederick Long. That's all I've got for you." The men nodded, and Warren made his way back downstairs, returning the keys to the woman behind the desk. Then he walked over to where the young girl was, and looked down at her. "When they come downstairs, you cover your nose, okay?" She nodded, and maybe ten minutes later the two men came downstairs lugging the chest. Warren stood in front of the girl, blocking her view of it as they carried it through the room and out the door. Once the chest was loaded onto a horse drawn wagon, Warren turned back to the woman behind the desk and the tenants.
"Those rooms can be cleaned out now. Remember to let someone know if you see Whitby." He scanned the room once more, frowning, then nodded. "Thank you for your time."
With that, he stepped out of the inn and into the cool air. His eyes glanced up toward the clouds. Rubbing his face, his boots hit cobblestones and he began his walk back to the palace.