Cop Transcript, Session Two

a Cyberpunk Game

compiled by Amy Luther (mockery@cox.net)

GM is Amy Luther.
PR is Joseph Kilcoyne, playing Detective Sergeant David Nobel.

GM - Now, as you remember, you had just gone home for the evening . . . 
PR - [laughs]  Yeah, after a long day.
GM - Well, you started to go home at five-thirty, and then Nichols called you 
     and said, "We found the guy's body," and you had to go back for another 
     couple of hours.  Almost two hours.
PR - Luckily, I live close to the station.
GM - Yeah.  So, you go home that evening, Saturday night.  Nichols told you 
     that he was going to go and check on Durand at the hospital later that 
     night, because he's been down there already, and he knows where she's at.
PR - Did he give me any impression of how she's doing, or how she's holding up?
GM - Do you ask him?
PR - Yeah.
GM - He says that she's very weak, and they have her on some kind of respirator, 
     but it's a temporary collapse and she should be ambulatory in the next 
     few days.  And it shouldn't happen again, as long as she isn't stressed 
     too bad.  Not exposed to major violence, etc.
PR - [laughs]  Well, it's probably hard for her, being on Earth in the first 
     place.
GM - 'Cause of the gravity, yeah.  And the pollutants, and the diseases . . .
PR - Night City isn't the cleanest place, I imagine.  Though I'd figure that 
     there'd be less pollution because the population is mostly using CHOO2.
GM - That's true, but there's industrial pollution, and a good deal of illegal 
     vehicles on the street that don't even burn CHOO2 very well.  Plus trash 
     fires, miscellaneous chemical spills, and so forth and so on.  So you go 
     home.  Are you going to do anything that night?
PR - Um . . . 
GM - Are you going to call Nichols up and say, "Don't submit your report yet!"
PR - I'm going to call Nichols up and discuss the case with him.
GM - What time are you going to call him?
PR - What time is he going to go down to the hospital?
GM - He said around ten.
PR - At night?
GM - Yep.
PR - I'll call him around eight, then.  It's not eight yet, right?
GM - Not quite.  It's around seven-fifty,
PR - When I call him, I'm going to talk to him about the case and tell him 
     some things about how I'd like the report handled, you know, "This is 
     how I'd like to keep it," how I'm going to try to delay Rajah and all 
     that.  [laughs]  This is going to sound really bad.
GM - Chuck said that he could put a delay on Rajah's files, so that even after 
     Rajah's submitted it, it won't come up in the main files.  He doesn't 
     want to do that until you talk to Rajah, though, because it's difficult 
     and he doesn't want to risk it unless he really, really has to.
PR - I'll talk to Rajah about it tomorrow morning.  What is today?  Is today 
     Sunday?
GM - Today is Saturday.
PR - So Rajah usually takes Tuesdays off.
GM - Mmm-hmm.
PR - So I'll talk to him tomorrow morning, and explain that I'd like him to 
     hold off on his report for a short period of time, if he could.  I also 
     want to make sure that there's no official record of the 911 call.
GM - Nichols wants to know how you're going to get away with deleting that 
     call . . . 
PR - Oh, no.  I mean, I just want to omit mention of it in our reports, so 
     nobody knows about the witness.  Which will really look bad on us, you 
     know, because OG's going to go in there, and they're going to say, "Hey, 
     look!  There's a 911 call here!  Let's call this lady!" and then they'll 
     say, "Oh, she got picked up by police days ago."
GM - Yeah.  "She's not there.  Who had this case again?"  Well, when you turn 
     the case over, you'll have to turn her over.
PR - I know.
GM - You're just afraid she's going to get whacked by somebody in Organized 
     Crime when you turn the case over to them.
PR - Yeah.  Well, I mean, there's already one guy dead.  I'm going to do my 
     best to keep her alive.  Because I can't help the dead people, you know?
GM - Yeah.  So, you're on the phone with Nichols, and around eight-thirty, 
     after you've been on for about thirty, forty minutes, his line clicks.  
     He says, Wait a minute, and gets on the other line.  After a second he 
     gets back on the line with you and says, Hey, I got a call.  Um . . . 
     Hopefully I'll be done in time to go see her, at ten.  Uh . . . If I 
     don't call you, will you go down?
PR - Yeah.
GM - You'll have to sign in at the front desk, and I think they'll give you a 
     pass.   I have mine already.  It doesn't have your picture on it, or 
     anything . . . Technically, we're supposed to turn it in when we leave 
     the hospital, but I've been keeping mine, so I don't have to go through 
     that whole rigmarole at the front desk.
PR - [laughs] Yeah, I can understand that.
GM - See if you can get out with one, too.  I'll give you a call around nine-
     thirty.  There's some kind of mess down south of C-Town, almost in the 
     Zone, that I have to take a look at.
PR - Oooh.  Why down in the Zone?
GM - Well, the Zone is our district, too, you know.
PR - But it has to be pretty bad to have to send an investigator down.
GM - Shit, everything's pretty bad down there.
PR - I guess it would be.  Well, I'll talk to you later, then.  See you 
     tomorrow morning.
GM - He says goodbye and hangs up.
PR - [laughs]  Somebody just killed 300 people in a mass suicide bombing . . . 
GM - He'll tell you about it in the morning, I'd imagine.  [laughs]  The 
     night passes.
PR - Um, does he call back?
GM - Yeah.  He calls you, apparently from his cell phone, because you can hear 
     a lot of noise in the background, cars going by, and people yelling . . .
PR - Gunshots?
GM - No, no gunshots.  [laughs]  He says he's not going to be able to make it 
     to the hospital tonight, so could you go down and check up on her for 
     him?
PR - Yes, I can.  [laughs]  My whole day off . . .
GM - He's yelling at somebody on the other end of the line:  Hey, would you 
     put that down?  I keep telling you guys not to move that!  He sounds so 
     tired.
PR - He's the one who called me first, and he'd already been up a while.
GM - You're not getting any other cases while you're on this one, either, and 
     he's having to deal with this case plus five or six others, plus whatever 
     they call for in the middle of the night.  
PR - Do I get less cases, now that I'm a sergeant?
GM - Normally you get one case, and you work on it until you're done.
PR - I'll take a shower and get ready and head on over to the hospital.
GM - She's at the Night City Medical Center.
PR - Did I get the pictures from Organized Crime yet?
GM - No, you were going to get them tomorrow.
PR - Oh, yeah, that's right.  It's still Saturday night.  By the way, my First 
     Aid is a total of 5, including my Tech and my skill.
GM - [flips pages, laughs]  You won't be performing any major surgeries, then.  
     What the hell is your tech, Joe?
PR - Four.
GM - And your First Aid is 1?
PR - Well, because I had to take it, as a cop, but I figure I wasn't very good 
     at it.  [laughs]
GM - Great.  Nichols will love to hear that.  "Didn't you pay attention in 
     any of those classes?"
PR - "Well, you know, they start talking about arteries and whatever, and I 
     just nod off."  I know what they are, I'm just not very good at stitching 
     them together.  I probably have a very good knowledge of the body, 
     because of my Forensics, though.
GM - [flips pages]  Here's the hospital, and your Precinct is right here.
PR - Not too far.  I know my way around the body, and I'm great at cutting it 
     up . . .
GM - Yeah, on dead guys.  "I'm sorry, Nichols, I can't help you with that 
     sucking chest wound, but after you're dead I'll be able to determine 
     exactly where the bullet went."
PR - [laughs]  "I'll find that bastard for you, if I have to take apart every 
     cell in your body!"
GM - At ten-thirty you get to the hospital, in your same police car that you 
     were supposed to turn in on Tuesday.
PR - [laughs] Well, you know, I've been real busy lately, and I haven't had 
     time to go down to the station . . .
GM - This is the best one you're going to get, too.  'Cause you know the next 
     car you get is going to be a total piece of shit.  Some 2001 Chevy 
     Cavalier, primer gray, with bald tires.
PR - I'm thinking about trying to buy a car on credit, now that I've almost 
     paid off the Drifter.
GM - When is your Drifter going to be paid off?
PR - Let's see . . . I've been doing it for four years . . . I think it'll be 
     paid off in a year or so.
GM - You get in your car and drive across town.  Traffic is terrible, because 
     it's Saturday night.
PR - That's right, it's Saturday night.  I could do stuff tonight.  If I 
     didn't have to work, that is.
GM - You could go out after you see her.
PR - No, I think I'm going to go home and go to bed.
GM - You get to the hospital and go through the lobby to the security station.  
     You go over there and introduce yourself and show your badge and sign in 
     and they issue you a little pass.  And they tell you, very strictly, to 
     make sure that you turn it in before you leave.
PR - I put on my straightest face and agree with them.
GM - It doesn't have your picture on it, and even though it is a temporary 
     pass, if you lose it, someone could pick it up and use it to get in 
     before it expires.
PR - By the way, when's the last time you changed these passes?
GM - We rotate.
PR - So, I can't bullshit them and get them to tell me?
GM - No.
PR - Well, about how often do you rotate?
GM - Sometimes on Wednesdays.  Sometimes on Thursdays.  Sometimes, even on 
     Fridays.  Just make sure you turn it in when you sign out.
PR - You might want to think about changing these to picture ID's.
GM - Look, we're working with NCPD to get their own law enforcement photos 
     supplied to us for these badges, but it's going to take a while.
PR - Uh, yeah, I can imagine.
GM - They have her in Intensive Care.  You follow the blue line down the hall 
     and into the elevator.  And, of course, it's a hospital, so you've got 
     quiet hallways with little cubbyhole waiting rooms filled with crying 
     families, and sleeping people, and nurses going up and down pushing 
     patients, and gurneys parked in the hall with unconscious people on them,
     and so forth.  Cybernetic replacement patients walking around squeezing 
     little rubber balls, and old people getting skin treatments.  The nurse 
     in the unit checks your pass and has you sign in again.  There's a 
     uniformed officer down the hall in front of the door.
PR - Does he recognize me?
GM - No.
PR - Is he going to expect me to identify myself?  I mean, I know I have to 
     show him my badge, but is he going to check it?
GM - It depends on what Nichols has told him to do.
PR - I'd like to see how hard it would be to get in here.
GM - He's tall and swarthy, with a kind of Mediterranean build.  He's in 
     uniform, with his helmet on a chair next to him.
PR - Hey, how are you doing?  I'm Detective Sergeant Nobel . . .
GM - Can I see some ID, sir?
PR - Sure.  Cool.
GM - He looks at your badge, he looks at you.  Then he checks your medical 
     pass, and says, Okay, go on in, sir.  It's been pretty quiet.  I thought 
     Detective Nichols was going to come up.
PR - Well, he was, but he got called on a case.
GM - Okay.  [yawns]  Do you mind if I take a coffee break while you're in 
     there?
PR - No, go ahead.
GM - I was supposed to get relieved fifteen minutes ago, but nobody's here 
     yet, so . . .
PR - Really?  I can stay until the relieving officer shows up . . . 
GM - I have to trade off with him, sir.
PR - I mean, just to make sure he shows up.
GM - Oh.  All right.   You're not going to leave any time soon?
PR - No, I'll be in here until you come back.
GM - He leaves and goes down the hall toward the vending machine and restroom 
     area.
PR - Prepack machines.  [laughs]
GM - Let's see . . . chicken flavored kibble, beef flavored kibble, soy 
     flavored kibble . . . wait a minute . . . 
PR - [laughs]  All the Top Ramen flavors.
GM - You go inside.  It's not a private room; it's a dual room, but the other 
     bed is empty, and there's a curtain pulled across the occupied bed.  You 
     can hear a respirator hissing on the other side of the curtain, and 
     there's a medicinal smell in the air.  Next to the curtain, a fat, 
     brunette nurse is sitting on a folding chair, reading a magazine.
PR - I'll walk up.  I don't want to scare her.  How's the patient doing?
GM - Well, she's stabilized right now . . . uh . . . She looks at your badge.
PR - That's cool.  It's not like they're just letting people walk right in.
GM - Oh, I see.  You're one of the officers.  You're a detective?
PR - Yes.  Has anyone else been to see her, besides Nichols?
GM - No.  Detective Nichols, that's the brown-haired man?
PR - Yes.  Just to let you know, I'm not expecting to have anyone other than 
     myself, Detective Nichols, or the uniformed officer at the door come up 
     to see her, so if anyone else tries to get in, be very suspicious.
GM - All right . . . Well, I'll let everyone else know, I suppose.  You have 
     an officer out front, don't you?
PR - Well, he just took a lunch break, but he'll be back in a minute.
GM - All right.  She's sleeping right now . . .
PR - Can I take a look at her?
GM - Yes, but I'm not going to wake her up for you, or let you question her if 
     we do wake her up.
PR - I understand.
GM - She pulls the curtain back.  Lying on the bed on the other side is a 
     young, dark-haired woman, about twenty, very thin, hooked up to a series 
     of evil-looking ventilator machines, with the attendant regulators and 
     monitors and IV's.  There are bruises under her eyes and around her 
     mouth, and she looks exhausted.  Her flesh is just hanging on her bones. 
PR - What kind of treatment is she scheduled to receive?  Was it nanotech?
GM - As I understand it, they're rebuilding her lungs with nanosurgeons.
PR - Why didn't they just replace them?
GM - Well, you'd have to talk to Doctor for the details.  I believe she was 
     exposed to some kind of a nanotech agent which attacked her own lung 
     tissue and took up residence in her respiratory system.  I don't know if 
     it was a biowarfare agent or something from an industrial accident, but 
     it's diminishing her lung capacity by a set percentage every few days, 
     and any implants or cloned replacements will be attacked by the same 
     agents.  At the moment, they're rebuilding her lungs faster than the 
     agent can destroy them, and trying to find a way to flush the agent out.   
     Or come up with a lung substitute that won't be attacked.  It's not 
     contagious, and it's not lethal, providing she gets oxygen and continues 
     her treatments.  
PR - I see.
GM - If they can't nullify the agent, she'll just have to continue her 
     treatments indefinitely.  
PR - Well, tomorrow I was planning on coming over here with some sketches 
     . . . Is she going to be able to talk?
GM - Yes.
PR - Is she going to have any memory problems?
GM - I wouldn't know.  We haven't been treating her with anything that would 
     cause memory loss.  She should be off the ventilator sometime tomorrow 
     morning, and we'll have her on supplementary oxygen.  If you come by in 
     the afternoon . . .
PR - I was thinking about one or two.   Has she been conscious?
GM - Yes.
PR - Well, I'm done here, I guess.  Thank you.
GM - She nods and pulls the curtain back around the bed, and then goes inside 
     and fusses around while you walk to the door.  You leave and they guy is 
     back, standing in the same position that he was when you got there, 
     except now he's got a plastic cup of coffee on the chair next to his 
     helmet, and an anonymous prepack package sitting on top of it.
PR - I could order you some food up, if you want.
GM - Nah, that's okay.  I'm supposed to be leaving in a minute, anyway.
PR - Yeah.  Today was supposed to be my day off.
GM - I know how that goes.  I'll be here until he gets here, sir.   You don't 
     have to stay.
PR - I am kind of tired.  I guess I will go home.  I am going to go home.
GM - As you're leaving, you see another, shorter uniformed officer run past 
     you, toward Intensive Care.  He's running past you as you pass the 
     vending machines, as if he's late.
PR - I'm going to get something from the machine and try to listen to their 
     conversation.
GM - The guy runs up and pulls his helmet off, and he's actually a she, an 
     Asian woman with her hair in a braid.  And they bullshit for a while, 
     about how she got tied up in traffic and had to do her report and turn 
     it in before she left, and all that.  They know each other, evidently.
PR - Good.  I'm heading on down to my car, then.  [laughs]  I suppose I'll 
     turn it in on Monday.  I don't want to, but I figure . . . 
GM - "Consistently used police property without returning it within the 
     proper time frame."
PR - Plus, I could see myself keeping every good car I get for a month.
GM - The motor pool officer can't really do anything to you--
PR - But they can say, "Oh, that car's getting serviced today, sir!"
GM - Yep.  Which they will probably do soon.  'Course, you could slip them 
     some money.  Are you going to turn your badge in at the security desk, 
     when you leave?
PR - I'm going to keep it until tomorrow.  "Oh, yeah, I forgot last night.  I 
     was so tired . . ."  But I will turn it in tomorrow.
GM - You go home and feed your dog, who has missed you very badly.  This is 
     the one day of the week that you spend with him, and you've been gone 
     for all of it.
PR - It's been a rough day, boy.  [laughs]
GM - He's very sad.
PR - How are they treating him, over there?
GM - He always comes back smelling of weird anti-dog odor treatments.
PR - [laughs]  Poor guy.  I can just see him looking at me like, "Ah, I don't 
     have to go over there again, do I?"
GM - [laughs]
PR - At least they don't have any little kids pulling on his ears, or anything.
GM - Jerry stuffs him full of junk food, and Sherry anti-odors him with floral 
     air sprays.
PR - He comes home all goofy on the deodorant.  That aerosol high.  [laughs]
GM - [laughs]  The next morning . . . 
PR - I gets up.  And I heads on down to the station.
GM - And it's another bright, beautiful sunny day.  The glare is incredible, 
     and the heat just comes off the streets in waves, and the odor of burning 
     trash and miscellaneous chemicals mixed with asphalt just carries that 
     much farther in the clear air.  You get snarled briefly in traffic around 
     the Convention Center.  Apparently there's a convention for cybernetics
     manufacturers in town for a week.  You hear on the car radio that it's the 
     21st Annual Kenji Cybernetics Convention, and there's the usual traffic 
     advisory, and when you get to the precinct, you see some notices tacked 
     up on the bulletin board reminding everyone that there is a no-presence 
     policy in the area south of such-and-such a street after 10 pm.  So, 
     regardless of whether you get convention guests down there or not, you 
     can't respond to calls, and the mayor's office has been notified 
     accordingly.  
PR - Do police personnel ever get free passes to these things?
GM - Sometimes.  If you volunteer for convention duty, but that's usually 
     patrol officers.  If it was the Mustang Arms Convention, everybody would 
     go.  The whole damn station would go.
PR - All the cops getting drunk and looking at guns. [laughs] 
GM - Right now, every ripperdoc in town is down there.  Plus all the MaxTac 
     officers are gone.
PR - [laughs]  Somehow, they're all sick today . . . 
GM - Yep.  They're all stumping around down there, which has got to be scary.
PR - [makes robotic noises]  Actually, they probably have interface controlled 
     Dragoon mockups and shit.
GM - They have everything down there.   As a sidebar to the news, they mention 
     that the con has been marred by tragedy, because they were going to 
     present this annual Best New Cyberlimb Design of the Year Award to this 
     Chinese guy.  Unfortunately, he was murdered before the convention 
     started.
PR - [laughs]  Imagine that.  What was the design?
GM - Polycarbonate cyberlimb.  It's a ceramic design.
PR - I can just see this lost bunch of Japanese guys driving through the 
     Combat Zone in this little rental car.  [laughs]
GM - [laughs]  What time are you going in?
PR - Probably ten o'clock.  What's the normal time?  Nine?
GM - Yeah.
PR - I'll go in at ten.  Spend some time with mah dawg first.
GM - You gonna leave him run around?
PR - Yeah.  He can go in the doggie door if he wants.  Plus, nobody's going to 
     get in there unless they're really, really small.
GM - Midget Mafia members.  "Hey, Gino!  Hey, kid!  Crawl in there with this 
     grenade!"
PR - "What are you guys doing in there?"  It's cool, because there are other 
     cops living in this complex.  So there's a bunch of nosy police officers 
     to take care of any strange people hanging around.
GM - Plus, your neighbors have come to rely on you whenever they hear a bump 
     in the night.
PR - Well, I'm probably the only guy in the whole trailer park with an 
     automatic shotgun.
GM - You get in around 10 am.  What do you want to do?
PR - The first thing I want to do is to call over to Lisa Stansfield's 
     apartment.  Has anyone notified her roommates yet?
GM - Nope.  Not that you're aware of.
PR - Are you serious?  Damn.  [pause]  Then again, I was probably supposed to 
     do it.  [laughs]
GM - Nichols is not there when you get in.
PR - I'm going to give him a call on the cell phone.
GM - His phone rings, and his answering machine comes on.  Hey, this is 
     Christopher Nichols.  That's Detective Christopher Nichols, in case 
     you're an MCI guy and you're trying to get money out of me, in which case 
     you can quit it, because I'm a cop and I'll look up your goddamn phone 
     number and call you up in the middle of the night.  Anyway, I'm not home 
     right now, so you can leave your name and number at the time of the beep, 
     or you can call the station at extension . . . blah blah blah, etc . . . 
     and I'll get back to you.
PR - Hey, Nichols, this is Nobel.  Um . . . I figure you're probably sleeping 
     after your late night last night, but I'm just wondering if anybody 
     notified Stansfield's roommates that she was deceased . . . So, gimme a 
     call on your cell phone when you wake up, or when you check your messages.  
     See ya.
GM - If you want, you can poke around on his desk and see if he's left any of 
     his papers lying around on it.  That might tell you if he's notified 
     them or not.
PR - Yeah, I think I'll do that.
GM - As you're going over, you notice that there's a message on your voice 
     mail.
PR - Hmmm.  I'll check it.
GM - It's your precinct mailbox.  People can either call you on your cell 
     phone, or they can call you care of the precinct, by calling and saying, 
     "Put me through to Detective so-and-so."  They screen those, and they 
     won't put it through to your cell phone unless it's an emergency call.  
     The message sounds like a synthesized feminine voice.  It says, This
     recording is to notify [pause] David Nobel that Voiceboxes, Incorporated 
     is holding a personal message for you at our [pause] Night City Branch 
     Office, located at 568 University Street, Suite C, open from seven am to 
     ten pm daily.  This message is [pause] coded for your voiceprint release 
     only.  This message is dated [pause] Saturday, June 4, and will be held 
     until [pause] 12:01 am Monday, June 5.  If you have any questions, please 
     call our 24 hour toll-free Night City Customer Service Line at 1-800-VOX-
     TALK.  Message ends.
PR - So, do I have to show up and get it in person?
GM - It repeats, and you gather that since it says it's coded for your 
     voiceprint release only, and gives you the address, you need to go down 
     and get it in person.
PR - [laughs, groans]
GM - He's going, "What?"
PR - I'm gonna go there and get shot.  "Yeah, I got your voiceprint right 
     here, pal!"  You know what?
GM - What?
PR - He mighta hit that IAD flag.  [laughs]
GM - Maybe you should go there and see.
PR - Well, it's still early in the morning, so I'll take care of it later.  
     How far away is that?
GM - It's on University Street, so it's not that far.
PR - I was wondering if I could walk it.
GM - Not really.  You can go pick it up later.  Like the nice lady said, it's 
     open until 10 pm.
PR - I want to see if Nichols has any info on Stansfield.  And, since he's not 
     here . . . [laughs]
GM - [laughs]  You're looking in his desk drawers, and stuff.
PR - Well, I just want to see if there's anything lying around.  Oh, yeah.  I 
     also wanted to get the officer photo file and go through the OG pictures 
     in a nice, quiet, secluded area.  But I guess I should see Chuck about 
     the 3D mockups first.
GM - Yep.  On Nichols' desk is Stansfield's file.  It gives her address as one 
     of the little students-only apartments down by the college.  She had two 
     roommates, neither of whom are students.  She wasn't a student either, 
     so you don't know how they were living there.  They probably paid 
     somebody off.  The first one is Marissa du Jardin, who is a stripper/
     hostess at a nightclub down south, called the Limbo.  The second one is 
     Trudy Cornell, who is a Licensed Prostitute who works the college area.
PR - [laughs]
GM - She's 28.  Neither of them has been called.  It just has their address 
     and their names, from the information they got out of Stansfield's purse.  
     It has her work number, the address, and the names of her co-workers, who 
     haven't been notified either.  On your desk are a couple reports from the 
     techs, and from Rajah, regarding the crime scene.  There's a list of stuff 
     that they found in Galvano's apartment.  It includes $3000 in cash, mixed 
     euro and dollars, discovered in various places around the apartment, 
     minus $500 found in his wallet.  This is in addition to what was in his 
     bank account.
PR - How much did his bank account have in it?
GM - $2800.
PR - He was well off for a delivery driver.  Do they have anything on the 
     vehicle yet?
GM - Nope.  Also in the apartment is an H&K MP-2013 10mm submachinegun, 
     silenced, in the closet.
PR - That was probably the gun they picked up the first time.  [pause]  Well, 
     wait . . .
GM - No, that was a different gun.  The one he was arrested with was 
     confiscated.
PR - Yeah.  I thought, for a minute, that they might have . . .
GM - Given it back to him?  That would look really odd.
PR - That would look really bad.  
GM - This gun has been fired multiple times.  The clip is less 25 shots, out 
     of a 60-shot capacity.
PR - So he's probably used it recently, then.
GM - There's also a Glock 30 10mm machine pistol under the kitchen sink.  Both 
     of the guns are loaded with ball rounds.
PR - [laughs]
GM - The Glock is not silenced, and it has a full clip, out of a 30-shot snail 
     clip.  There are two boxes of ammo, one with each gun.  The box with the 
     H&K is half empty.
PR - Half empty?  This guy was a bruiser.
GM - And the Glock box is a quarter empty.
PR - Are you serious?
GM - Yeah.
PR - Were they well maintained?
GM - They're in good shape.
PR - [laughs]
GM - The Glock has serial numbers, but a check on the registration lists it as 
     having been destroyed in a house fire six weeks ago somewhere in 
     Stateline.
PR - Six weeks ago?
GM - Yep.  You can assume it's a hot gun.  
PR - Well, he probably bought it off the back of a truck.
GM - In the apartment is a very good stereo system, well in excess of what 
     someone of his salary could afford.  Plus a stash of assorted drug 
     paraphernalia, mixed in with the feminine products under the bathroom 
     sink.
PR - What type of drug paraphernalia?
GM - Airhypos and inhalers.
PR - Airhypos?  Can they check drug residue?
GM - Yeah.  They have.  Analysis indicates the presence of a methysynthetic, 
     a euphorohallucinogen.  You get mild hallucinations coupled with extreme 
     euphoria.
PR - Sounds like XTC.
GM - And a betaphenthylamine, which is basically a mega amphetamine.  Both of 
     these are in powdered form, so they can be inhaled directly or mixed with 
     purified water and injected.
PR - She didn't have any airhypo marks, did she?
GM - Nope.  Neither did Galvano.  Although, when you check Stansfield's autopsy 
     report, the coroner doesn't report the presence of any amphetamines, and 
     with this level of stuff he'd see the signs of habitual use.  This isn't 
     something you take sporadically.   There are indications that she was 
     inhaling the methysynthetic.
PR - She didn't have pin eyes, did she?
GM - Nope.  Not under her tongue, in her eyes, anywhere.
PR - Hmm.  That's odd.
GM - It's possible that somebody else was coming over.
PR - Yeah.  Well, apparently it was a fuckin' gang hangout.  [laughs]
GM - What a surprise.  [laughs]  Also, her SIN number was bogus.  She's listed 
     as being born in Night City, but her SIN doesn't check out.
PR - Is there any way to trace that?
GM - No.
PR - Huh.  She could be from anywhere.
GM - Yep.  Galvano's checked out, as you remember.
PR - Yeah.  I was gonna ask, uh, if they could do a ballistics match on the 
     guns and see if it matches any recent homicides.
GM - Okay, they can do that.
PR - Also, are there any other prints on them?
GM - Just his.  They got hair and skin samples from the garage wall and 
     apartment door, and they got the cloth fibers from the outside of the 
     door.  These fibers are gray, and probably came from a typical men's 
     suit, most likely a synthetic.  Not an expensive one, either.  If you 
     find the perps, and you find their clothes, you could match it, but it 
     won't help now.
PR - That's from the person who broke open the door, so he'd probably be the 
     stronger of the two of them.  Which guy was it, again?
GM - When you remember back to the recording,  you think it was the guy with 
     the earring who opened the door.  They didn't find any hairs or fibers on 
     the pillow used to muffle the shot that killed Stansfield.  There is 
     powder residue.  As before, they can match that if you find the gun.  
     There aren't any prints anywhere in the apartment, other than the victims'.  
     The fluid and oil residues have been analyzed, and ditto:  if you find 
     the getaway car, you can match it.  They've photographed the tire tracks, 
     as well.  Mixed in with these reports and the stuff from Nichols' desk 
     are his notes, which indicate what he wants to look at today.  The list 
     includes 3D imaging from the tapes, interviews with everyone's co-workers, 
     finding the phone numbers on Galvano's pad, talk to Stansfield's 
     roommates, and break into the Organized Crime files and get mob shots to 
     compare to the two perps.
PR - [surprised, laughs]  Does this look serious, or just kinda scribbled 
     down?
GM - It's scribbled.  And he's got a photograph of the phone pad, with the 
     numbers on it, with notations written in the margins.  He also has a 
     note that says, "Galvano's phone off," and it has a date from a month 
     previous.
PR - He probably had a cell phone for that, though.
GM - You haven't found one in the apartment, and none of his records indicate 
     that he had one.
PR - Huh.
GM - The numbers on the pad say, "Lisa-Work," "Lisa-Home," a few other 
     unmarked numbers, one that says, "C," and one that says, "J.N."
PR - I can talk to Chuck about tracking these down, though, can't I?
GM - Yeah, you can get to him on that later.  Lemme go down your list . . . 
     hang on a sec . . .
PR - [laughs]  Who the hell would leave me a message like that?  I'm going to 
     have to go down soon and find out who it's from.
GM - Okay.  You also wanted to get Galvano's credit records from upstairs.  
     You'll have to request those.  The interior of the car has been checked, 
     and they didn't find anything odd in there.  There are some hairs present 
     that don't belong to him or the girl, and they have those logged and 
     filed.  Um . . . more on the autopsies . . . Galvano didn't have any bio-
     sculpting.  However, he does have a neural processor with Sandestivan 
     speedware, the +2 kind, and the speedware is new, probably added sometime 
     between the 4th of May and now.  He had the processor and the arm before 
     he came to Night City, but he got the 'ware added when he got here.
PR - Are there any serial numbers or anything on the booster?
GM - No.
PR - Is it more expensive to get it that way?
GM - Yes.  It's technically illegal.  This is ripperdoc work.  This isn't 
     licensed clinic work.
PR - Is there anything unusual about it?  Is it the standard implant?
GM - It's standard.
PR - That's even more money, then.
GM - Let's see what else we have here . . . [flips pages]  He had a right 
     cyberarm, as you know.  It was a standard normal cyberarm with regular 
     serial numbers.  The processor also has numbers, and they don't match any 
     clinics in NorCal.  
PR - I figure they'd match ones in New Jersey.
GM - Yeah.  By the way, you also wanted to call the NJPD and talk to them about 
     Galvano.
PR - Yeah.
GM - The pills in Stansfield's stomach match a generic over-the-counter drug.
PR - Was all the drug residue they found in the apartment from controlled 
     substances?  Could they possibly be prescribed?
GM - No.  They were all controlled.  They aren't used for medical purposes.
PR - [groans] I've got so much to do today . . . 
GM - Well, you want to call the Jersey PD.  You want to check the personal 
     records of the department, and you have to go talk to her roommates.
PR - Yeah.  I want to go talk to Chuck before I get going on all this.
GM - Chuck is in his cubicle.  He has what looks like an ancient hand-held 
     video game on his lap, and he's banging away on it.
PR - [laughs] 
GM - Oddly enough, there's a cable attached to it, and the other end is 
     plugged into his head.
PR - [laughs] So it's probably just a controller, mocked up inside this old 
     Gameboy shell.
GM - Yep.  You go in his office.  He's wearing his usual outfit of jeans and 
     an old concert t-shirt.  This time it's some ancient band called "The 
     Pretenders."  
PR - How you doing, Chuck?
GM - He doesn't hear you.  He's absorbed in his game.
PR - Tap him on the shoulder.
GM - He jumps and looks at you.
PR - [laughs]  Sorry.
GM - He turns the stud off and unplugs the cable from the game.  He doesn't 
     bother to unplug it from his head, so it's just hanging there as he looks 
     at you.
PR - So, how you doing?
GM - I was fine.  How are you?
PR - Uh . . . good.  I need to get some pictures from you, if that's possible. 
GM - What kind of pictures?  Naked lieutenant pictures?
PR - Well, I wasn't thinking of that, but if you could swing it . . . [laughs]  
     Actually, I was wondering if you could go through personnel files for me.
GM - Whyyy?
PR - Uh . . . well, we think that maybe one of the OG officers had previously 
     visited the deceased's house, and I'm looking to have a picture to match 
     up with some video footage.
GM - Oh, let me guess.  You don't want anybody to know that you're looking 
     through the officer photos, right?
PR - Well, I imagine that OG would get, rather . . . ah . . . 
GM - Everybody would get "rather . . . ah."
PR - I'm sure mine's been looked at quite a few times in the last 24 hours.
GM - How deep do you want this?  Do you want still photos, or do you want the 
     whole voiceprint/DNA hook-line-and-sinker shit?
PR - Stills would be fine.  I can give you a description, if that would help 
     narrow it down.
GM - Do you have a still reader?
PR - I need to requisition one.
GM - Oooookay.  I'm just going to dump this all onto a chip until then, okay?  
     Can I assume that your parameters are going to match the ones that I 
     rigged up for you on the tape?
PR - Uh . . . [laughs]  Yeah.
GM - Same height-weight-size?
PR - Yeah.
GM - Okay.  What time is it now?  Eleven?  Come back in half an hour and I'll 
     have them for you.  Any word yet on whether you want to move on Galvano's 
     file?
PR - We're going to hold off until I talk to Rajah.  I'm hoping that he'll be 
     willing to wait for a few hours on his report.
GM - How many's a few hours?
PR - I'd like him to wait at least until the end of the day.
GM - Shit, I can get it lost in filing for that long.
PR - I want to talk to him first.  I want him to wait at least until I can go 
     through the OG files and check them against the 3D pictures of our guys.
GM - Oh, yeah.  Wait a minute.   He goes through the chaos on his desk and 
     pulls out a little lap-pad.  He opens it up.  Here's what I got from 
     those tapes.  Obviously, you're not going to get holographic resolution 
     out of this, but you can rotate it on the screen and all that.  Height, 
     weight, and as enhanced as I can get it.  62% probablility on the hat 
     guy, about an 80% on the earring guy, just 'cause of that last bit with 
     him running for the elevator.  Plus approximate clothes.
PR - Only 60%?  Well, we'll probably get a facial feature description today, 
     so we might be able to add that to these to get a better match.
GM - Oh, yeah, definitely.  The long-haired guy has a gray suit on, kind of 
     rumpled, with a dark red or dark blue tie, kind of reddish-purplish.  
     He's about 6'2", and just a touch on the heavy side.
PR - He doesn't match that other guy, does he?
GM - No, he's not nearly as big.  He looks about thirty, with blue eyes.  His 
     expression is quiet and kind of watchful.  There's a note on the visual 
     enhancement that this guy has a booster of some kind, the kind you can 
     engage at will, because he's moving normally most of the time, but when 
     he's running down to the elevator, he's jacked up.  So it's a Kereznikov,
     or maybe an adrenal booster.
PR - That's exactly the kind I got, the +3.
GM - He looks like a white guy.  The second guy is smaller, about 5'11, maybe 
     170.
PR - This is the fedora guy, right?
GM - Yeah.  He has black hair, cut short on the sides.  You can't tell if it's 
     short on top, because he has his hat on, obviously.  He has a silver 
     stud in his left ear.  His complexion is very dark, either Hispanic or 
     Mediterranean.  From what you can see of his bare skin, between his 
     gloves and cuffs and around his collar, he's pretty hairy.  He's got 
     brown eyes.  The likeness isn't exact--on this guy, it's only about sixty 
     percent--but it's close enough that you have a chance of recognizing them 
     if you see them on the street.
PR - I have Recognition, too.
GM - That will help.  The first guy's earring looks like a crystal shaped like 
     an icicle, about a half inch long.  It's very distinctive.  Chuck says, 
     Can't you go look at that in your office, or something?  I can't work on 
     this with you standing here.
PR - Oh, sorry.  Well, I have to talk to Rajah, anyway, so, as long as I'm up 
     here . . . 
GM - It's just a quick step down the hall.  You notice as you walk in that it 
     really stinks bad in here today, a combination of old blood and 
     formaldehyde.  And you can hear somebody going eeeeeeeeeee on a bone saw.
PR - [laughs]
GM - It's really high-pitched and irritating.  It sets your teeth on edge.
PR - Eeeeeeeeeeee.
GM - You see Rajah in his office, and he's eating some kind of croissant.
PR - Does he look like he's just started?
GM - Yeah.  He's probably just finished his first post, and now he's eating 
     breakfast.
PR - I'll go knock on his door.  
GM - He nods.
PR - How are you doing?
GM - Good, good.  And yourself?
PR - Oh, pretty good.
GM - Did you get my reports?
PR - Your reports?
GM - I left them on your desk.  He's talking about the autopsy reports you 
     found when you got in this morning.
PR - Oh, yeah, I did.  Thank you.  They were most helpful.
GM - I hope they were sufficient.
PR - I have a favor to ask of you.  
GM - Yes?  I would be pleased to help, if I can.
PR - I think that, as soon as your paperwork comes in, I'm going to be taken 
     off the case, and so what I wanted to do was at least have the rest of 
     this day to collect evidence.  So that, you know, it'll all be taken 
     care of before I hand it over.  What I was going to ask you was if it 
     would be acceptable for you to delay your report until tomorrow.
GM - Delay?  Delay how?
PR - [laughs nervously]  Well, things can get lost in filing for a few hours.
GM - This is very irregular.
PR - Normally I wouldn't ask you to do this, but it's an unusual case.
GM - My answer would be no, but I am afraid I have just filed it.
PR - Um, can Chuck delay it now, or is it too late?
GM - You don't know.
PR - Okay.
GM - You'll have to run upstairs really fast.
PR - If I talked to Chuck and he said he could delay it now, would that be 
     acceptable?  Obviously, if anything happened, I'd take the full brunt of 
     whatever came down . . .
GM - I would . . . I would have a problem with doing this.  I am surprised you 
     would ask me to do this.
PR - The only reason I'm asking is because we believe a young lady's life 
     might be in danger if people start moving on this case too soon.
GM - Would it not be better for you to talk to the officers who are going to 
     be recieving the case from you?
PR - Well, it's not me turning over the case, it's them coming in and taking 
     the case away.
GM - I am not understanding what you are suggesting to me.
PR - [laughs]  You see, the problem we have is that . . . ah . . . [groans]
GM - Joe, make a Human Perception roll.
PR - [laughs]  Okay.  [rolls]  [groans]
GM - [simultaneously] [groans, laughs]  Roll again.
PR - [rolls]  [groans]  That's a fumble, isn't it?
GM - Yep.  Oookay, keep going.  
PR - Well, it's just . . .
GM - You're sure you can persuade him to do this, if you just work on him a 
     little longer.
PR - If you really don't want to do this, I won't do it, but I can assure 
     you . . .
GM - Morally and ethically, I cannot condone this.  I cannot withhold 
     information.
PR - It's not withholding.  You'd only be delaying it for a few hours.
GM - It could mean my position.
PR - But you've already filed it.  You're not responsible any more.
GM - But you are telling me what you are planning to do, and so I am 
     responsible.  And tampering with existing records . . . Now that I know 
     this, I must make sure that my reports are not misfiled, whether by you 
     or by your friend, you see?
PR - Well, that's why I'm asking you.  I won't do it if you don't want me to.
GM - I am saying no.  I do not think this is wise of you, this thing you want 
     to do with your Net Security person.
PR - If I was going to go ahead and do it anyway, why would I ask you?  
     Wouldn't I just go ahead and do it?
GM - I would hope not.
PR - I asked you because I respect you . . .
GM - All right . . . I appreciate your speaking to me.
PR - Okay.  I just wanted to run it past you and see if it was okay.  It's 
     just that someone's life is seriously in jeopardy here--
GM - Then you should take this to your superior officer, or whoever the 
     officers are that will take the case from you.
PR - I don't know if it's going to be our officers who get the case.
GM - What are you implying?
PR - [coughs]  Uh, well, I'm sorry that I asked you this, because . . . 
     [laughs] . . .
GM - You are not questioning the integrity of my office.  Or of the Department, 
     I hope? 
PR - No.  No, I'm not.  I'm just going to try to look disappointed.
GM - [rolls]
PR - Just put on my best worried expression.  I'm sorry about this.
GM - I'm glad you did not go ahead with this without consulting me.  He's 
     frowning slightly.
PR - Well, thank you, anyway.  Does it look like he's going to go right out 
     and tell somebody?
GM - You don't know.  You think you almost had him convinced.  
PR - [groans] I'm going to stop by Chuck's office again.  Chuck, it's not 
     going to happen.
GM - What's not going to happen?
PR - The Rajah thing.
GM - Ahhhh, okay.  Want me to do it anyway?
PR - [laughs]  No.   All right.  Let me think about this for a second.  He 
     just now filed his report, and I . . . Shit, this is going to look really 
     bad.
GM - He's gonna go to the lieutenant, first thing.  Um . . . if you're out of 
     the office, and they can't find you . . . 
PR - That's true.
GM - Lemme give you what I've got, and you get the hell out of here. 
PR - All right.  Damn principles.
GM - You better call Chris and tell him.  I'd hate to have him walk in here 
     and get jumped by six IAD guys.
PR - No problem.  Well, it won't be that bad, but I'll call him.  All the 
     flags are going to fly.
GM - They might not even be paying attention, you know?
PR - Actually, I'm more worried, now I've talked to Rajah.  But I think it had 
     to be done.
GM - Here's the personnel photos.  He gives you the chip.  He says, I didn't 
     have time to do any matches, so it's just the whole thing.
PR - All of Organized Crime?  Can you match it for me?
GM - It'll take me another ten minutes.  You think you have ten minutes?
PR - Yeah.  I'm not at my desk.
GM - Okay.  He finishes that up while you wait.
PR - I don't need anything from my desk, do I?
GM - Not that you remember.  If you can get hold of Chris, you can get most of 
     the information from him.   Looking through the files while you're 
     waiting, you see that they've ID'd the gun used.
PR - What type of gun was it?
GM - H&K MP-9.  And they can't match Ballistics until they have the gun.  
     Also in the files is the voice enhancement on the 911 call.  They couldn't 
     clear up the actual words, but they can break down and render 
     approximately how the guy's voice would sound from what was on the tape.  
     It's only about 65% accurate.  You can't use it in court, but you can 
     use it for your own personal identification.  The rendering is a generic 
     sentence, using his synthesized voice pattern.  "Hi, my name is John Doe."  
     Only two or three actual words from the actual tape are clear enough to 
     be understood:  "door," "open," "police officer."
PR - That could save my ass.  That could save my ass, because if it comes down, 
     I can say this guy did say he was police, and that's why I was worried.  Okay.
GM - The other things you wanted to do today, to remind you, was to call 
     Jersey, check the phone numbers, and talk to the roommates and maybe the 
     co-workers.  Chuck has a list of the addresses associated with the phone 
     numbers.
PR - The other thing I was worried about was, do I have to call these people 
     from the station?  Because I doubt they'd just give out information over 
     the phone.
GM - You give them your badge number.  They might call the station and confirm 
     it, but usually they just ask if such-and-such an officer exists.  Now, 
     whoever's at the station might say, "Oh, yes.  Officer Nobel.  Where is 
     he now?"  But if you move fast, they won't even do that.
PR - Okay.
GM - It's getting on toward eleven-forty-five now.
PR - I am out of the building.
GM - You run downstairs, gathering up your keys on the way out.  You get your 
     car and get the hell out.  Where are you going?
PR - Shit, I need a graphic artist.  Can I grab one of those?  [laughs]
GM - [laughs]  No, not really.
PR - Can I call someone later, and have them meet me?
GM - Yes.  "Can I grab a graphic artist on the way out?"  Collar them as you 
     go out the door.
PR - First thing I'm going to do is find myself a nice, isolated Denny's, or 
     something, and call up New Jersey.
GM - All right.
PR - Drink some coffee and have some lunch.
GM - NJPD.  Long distance call.
PR - Actually, this is police business, so I can charge it to the precinct.
GM - Yeah.  You can use your, ah, sergeant's prefix code or something.  The 
     front desk answers.
PR - Hi, this is Detective Sergeant Nobel, of the Night City Police 
     Department . . .
GM - What extension, please?
PR - Um, well, who would I talk to about checking up on a felon's background?
GM - Do you know which department handled the arrest?
PR - No.  Um, how about giving me to Records?
GM - All right.  Can I have your badge number, sir?
PR - Sure.  I give it to her.
GM - One moment, I'll transfer you.  A male voice comes on the line and says, 
     Records.
PR - Yeah, I was wondering if you could run a case number for me.  This is 
     Detective Sergeant Nobel, from the Night City Police Department.
GM - [Records Officer] Night City Police Department?  Jesus Christ.  What are 
     you guys calling for?
PR - Well, we got somebody who turned up here, and he apparently came from 
     Jersey, so we wanted to see what he had on him.
GM - [Records Officer] Uh, do you have him in custody?  
PR - Uh . . . no.  [laughs]  I do have his SIN number, though.
GM - [Records Officer] Give it to me.
PR - I read it off.
GM - [Records Officer] Will you hold?
PR - Yeah.  [laughs]  There's like, flags going up all across the country, all 
     the way to Night City.
GM - [laughs] He gets back on the line.  Ah, I'm going to transfer you to 
     Organized Crime.  You'll be speaking to Sergeant Huxley.
PR - Okay.  [laughs]
GM - Beep, boop, beep.  A female voice comes on the line.  Huxley.
PR - Ah, hi.  This is Detective Sergeant David Nobel, of the Night City Police 
     Department.
GM - Yeah, you're calling about Mr. Galvano.
PR - Yes.
GM - Are you guys ready to extradite his ass yet?
PR - Um . . . [laughs] I'm afraid somebody extradited him . . . ah, somewhere 
     else.
GM - What do you mean?
PR - He's currently deceased.
GM - Really?  [pause] Damn.
PR - Yes.
GM - [pause] That's a shame.  Did you guys, ah, find out what the deal was 
     with him?
PR - No, that's actually why I'm calling.  We're trying to find out who killed 
     him, and I need to get some information from you.
GM - Okay, shoot.  What do you need?  I gotta tell you, though, we already 
     faxed you guys everything we have, what, on the twentieth?
PR - Yeah, but it's currently a Homicide case, and all that went to Organized 
     Crime.
GM - Can't you just get the files from them?
PR - Actually, there's been some miscommunication, and it was easier for me 
     to call you.
GM - Oookay.  You'd save yourselves a phone bill if you'd get your transfer  
     requests ironed out, you know?
PR - Yes, I know.
GM - What do you want to know?
PR - Well, as I said, it's a homicide, and we're still investigating.  We 
     were wondering who he was involved with out there.  I need more details 
     on that.
GM - Okay.  Right now, in New Jersey proper, we have four major rival Families.  
     The one Galvano was working for . . . well, you'll have this in more 
     detail in your records, so you might want to check them, too, but we had 
     a Murder One out on him for the execution-style murder of a Cameron Rossi.
PR - Was he a contract killer?
GM - Yeah.
PR - Really?  That's surprising.  I guess he uses delivery as a cover.
GM - He was a mule for Rossi's organization, transporting stuff here and 
     there and doing hits on the side.  He was paid about $9000 by a rival, 
     we're not sure who, to shoot Rossi at a late-night party at a third 
     person's estate.  He hadn't been arrested prior to that.  He first turned 
     up in our records when he was determined to be a suspect in this guy's 
     murder.  So, we put out a warrant on him, and he skipped town.  We knew 
     he wound up in California, but your guys refused to extradite him when 
     they picked him up on that weapons charge.  I thought maybe you were 
     calling to tell me that you were finally going to send his ass out here 
     to us.
PR - You don't need anything from his body, do you?
GM - [snorts] No.  We can't use him if he's dead.  I still don't know what 
     you guys needed him for.  Some kind of sting operation, right?  I guess 
     that fell through, huh?
PR - Yeah, you could kind of say that.  Do you know if he had a lot of hits 
     under his belt?
GM - We have evidence now to implicate him in three, based on what we found 
     when we were checking him out for Rossi's murder.
PR - When we searched his apartment, we found his weapons, all about half 
     empty.
GM - God knows what he's gotten into over there.  He knew enough people over 
     there to run, anyway, and get connected fairly fast.
PR - Who do you know out here?
GM - Hell if I know.  You've got the records on it.
PR - Yeah.  Damn.  Well, I appreciate this.
GM - Sorry I can't help you out more.
PR - I just need to go check the records, I guess.  Organized Crime out here 
     . . . you've had to deal with them, so you know how it is.
GM - Yeah, I can imagine what kind of mess they left you.  If you need a fax 
     copy of this, put in another request, and we'll send it to you.
PR - I don't think I'll need it.  I'll just have to chase down the paperwork 
     down.
GM - Yeah.  Tell Organized Crime thanks for nothing, when you get the chance.
PR - A little late now, I guess.  Well, he's off the streets, at least.
GM - Maybe you'll nail the guys that got him.
PR - Maybe I will.  Thanks a lot.
GM - She hangs up.
PR - [laughs]  That cleared up a lot.
GM - Now that you've lied up the entire New Jersey PD . . .
PR - [laughs]  So, he was involved in a sting operation.  Either the mob 
     people in the department told his employers, who shot him, or he did 
     something stupid, and we had to take him out.  This is bad.  [groans]
GM - What's the matter?
PR - [laughs]  Basically, when I get back to the station, nobody's going to 
     like me.  But, the cool thing is that OG probably doesn't know that IAD's 
     investigating them.  They might actually be my friend in this.  I can see 
     them watching to see who fucks up.
GM - What else would you like to do today?  You still haven't heard from 
     Nichols.
PR - I'll call him again.
GM - His phone rings twice. Hey, this is Christopher Nichols.  That's 
     Detective Christopher Nichols, in case you're an MCI guy and you're 
     trying to get money out of me . . . etcetera.
PR - I'm going to call the station and have them page him.
GM - You call the station and the desk sergeant answers.
PR - Um, I'm not going to say my name.
GM - Well, I'm sorry, sir, but we can't page officers in the field.  Is this 
     an emergency?
PR - Yes, it is.
GM - Can I take your name?
PR - Um . . . [laughs]  This is David Wilkinson.
GM - Just a sec.  [pause]  I'm sorry, Detective Nichols is not available right 
     now.  Can I take a message, or send a car to your address?
PR - No, that' s okay.  Just tell him to call Dave.  He has my number.  Thanks.
GM - Joe slides neatly out of that mess.
PR - [laughs] Well, I was just going to say who I was, and then I remembered.
GM - The funny thing is, if you had, they probably would have found him for 
     you.
PR - I'm going to go and pick up that message real quick.
GM - You have Nichols' address, so you can swing by there and see if he's up 
     yet.
PR - Okay.  What part of the city does he live in?
GM - Near the Gaslamp District, down south of the Precinct.
PR - So, if I swing around to get my message, go talk to the girl's roommates, 
     go to his house, have him call for a graphic artist to meet me at the 
     hospital . . . [laughs]
GM - You could do that.  They might catch him when he calls, but he won't be 
     in the office.  You go to the Voiceboxes, Inc. offices.  This is a two-
     story building.  It's mirrored glass.  There's a lobby entrance with an 
     atrium area and a front desk.  All around the atrium are small cubicles, 
     two stories of them, with clear, soundproof doors.  You go up to the 
     front desk and tell the receptionist your name, and she'll give you your 
     cube number, where you can give or record your message.  You can also get 
     it or record it over the phone, like a regular answering service, but 
     since yours is coded to release for your voiceprint, you had to come get 
     it in person.  So you go to the front desk, and there's a pert Hispanic 
     woman sitting there.  She has bobbed hair and a round face, and she's 
     very happy.
PR - Hello.  I have a message waiting for me.
GM - Your name, please?
PR - Nobel.
GM - She says, Yes, that's 542.
PR - I get my wallet out.
GM - Oh, no, I meant cube 542.  You recieve your messages free of charge.
PR - Oh, okay.  I thought I had to pay.
GM - If you'd like to leave a message, we have our rates listed right here.
PR - Well, I guess we'll see, after I listen to it.
GM - She points.  You go to your cube.  The stairs are white metal, and the 
     balconies have this thin, charcoal gray carpeting on them.  The cube 
     door is a thick pane of clear plastic.
PR - [laughs]  Poison gas is going to come out.  How thick is the plastic?
GM - About a quarter-inch.  As you go up, the door slides open.  You go in and 
     the door closes, and it's totally silent.  It's like you've gone deaf.
PR - [snaps his fingers]
GM - You can hear them.  There's a console in one wall, which lights up as 
     you come in.  The text message says, "Touch screen and state your name."  
     A male voice gives the same message as you read this.
PR - I do this.  "David Nobel."
GM - Bing!  Thank you for using Voiceboxes.
PR - Somebody has my fuckin' voiceprint, and I don't like this.  [laughs]
GM - The message is recorded in a male voice, which you don't recognize.
PR - Is there a way to save this?
GM - You don't know.  It said it would be held until 12:01 am tonight, though.  
     You don't know if it will be saved, or if it's just held until you 
     listen to it.  You'd have to ask at the front desk.
PR - Okay.
GM - The male voice says, In return for stopping your present activities, a 
     sum of five thousand euro has been deposited into your personal bank 
     account.  Thank you for your cooperation.
PR - [long pause]  Ah, no.  [laughs]  I am so screwed.  I am so screwed.
GM - Bing!
PR - That's probably an AI voice.  Damn.  [pause] IAD is going to ream me a 
     new fuckin' asshole.
GM - [laughs]  I'll explain how they did this later, so you know I'm not just 
     fucking you.  And an icon in the console screen blinks and says, "Repeat?" 
     "Print?"
PR - I want a hard copy.  Is there also a voice copy?
GM - Yes, but they charge you twenty bucks for it.
PR - It's like, "Hey, look!"  [laughs]  When you give to charity, do you get 
     a receipt?
GM - Yeah.  But you've already taken the payment.
PR - Yeah, but I haven't touched it yet.
GM - You hope.  You haven't looked at your bank statement yet.
PR - [laughs]
GM - Well, they're not going to give you an envelope full of cash.
PR - I'll leave it in my account.  I'll keep this.
GM - Do you want to go check your bank account?
PR - No.  I know it's there.  I don't want to see it.  I want to go to talk to 
     the girl's roommates.  They're right down here, aren't they?
GM - Yes.  About a quarter-mile.  You could walk it.  There are a lot of mini-
     cafes and small apartments around here.  The area is full of college 
     students, obviously, and it's frequented by a gang called the Voodoo 
     Boyz, who you've heard about.  Stansfield's apartment is in this 
     apartment block [indicates on the map].  She lives on the third floor.  
     It's pretty much a condo.  Go up and knock?
PR - Yes.
GM - The door is painted a pastel blue.  It's opened by a blonde woman, 
     almost thirty, with those sort of handsome, masculine good looks.  She's 
     pretty.  She raises her eyebrow at you.  Make an Awareness roll.
PR - [laughs]  She's expecting somebody.  [laughs]  Not me.  [rolls]  Uh, 
     twenty-two.
GM - It's visual.
PR - Yeah, so twenty-four.
GM - It looks like she just got up.
PR - Hello.
GM - Good morning.
PR - Are you one of Lisa Stansfield's roommates?
GM - Yeah.  Why?  Are you looking for her?  She's not home right now.
PR - No, actually, we found Miss Stansfield . . .
GM - Who's "we?"
PR - I'm Detective Sergeant Nobel, of Night City Homicide.
GM - Ahhh, shit.  Come inside.
PR - I go in.  
GM - You go inside.  You can tell a bunch of people live here.  There are 
     clothes piled around that don't match each other, but also don't look 
     like they fit the woman you're talking to.
PR - Do I smell any drug residue?
GM - Roll.
PR - [rolls]  Six, seven . . . twenty-three.
GM - No.  Not right now.  You smell cigarette smoke, and faint perfume.  This 
     apartment has an assortment of hand-me-down wicker furniture, with a lot 
     of western-style rugs hung on the walls.  There's a larger-than-average 
     wall TV, with an elaborate video player set up under it.  This woman is 
     wearing a blue semi-transparent dragon robe, with silk lapels and a sash,
     tying it shut around her waist, and big green fuzzy slippers.
PR - [laughs]  Cool. 
GM - And they have band posters on the ceiling.  Displayed in a prominent 
     position is a poster for something called the Limbo, with an address.  
     It has a picture of a bio-sculpted fish person on it.  It's probably the 
     place the other roommate works.
PR - Okay.  I'll check that out later.
GM - She sits down on one of the chairs and motions for you to sit down on 
     another one opposite her, on the other side of one of those glass coffee 
     tables, with an abstract piece of metal holding it up.  I suppose this is 
     really rude, but can I see your ID?
PR - I pull it out.
GM - Um . . . you want to tell me what happened?
PR - Well, we were called on the scene on Saturday morning.
GM - She was with that bastard, wasn't she?
PR - Yeah, she was.
GM - I knew something was going to happen to her.  I knew it.  She just wasn't 
     a street-smart kind of gal.
PR - I tend to believe that.
GM - What happened?
PR - We found her on Saturday morning, murdered, in his apartment, in the 
     bedroom.
GM - Did he do it?
PR - No, actually.  Apparently it was someone looking for him.
GM - Somebody from the Mob.
PR - Yeah.
GM - I knew it.  The minute he walked in the door, I knew it.
PR - We're not sure exactly what their relationship was, whether they were 
     boyfriend and girlfriend, or what.  I can tell you . . . ah, she wasn't 
     in any pain.
GM - I can tell you, if she was doing what she was usually doing, she wasn't 
     feeling any pain anyway.  Make a Human Perception roll.
PR - [rolls]  I'm not the king of good rolls, tonight.  Twenty total.
GM - She's obviously not crushed.  She knew this person, but didn't think all 
     that highly of her.  Her attitude toward all this is that she's seen 
     everything.  She is a licensed prostitute, so if she's feeling anything, 
     she's not going to show you.
PR - Yeah.  If you'd rather not answer any questions right now . . . 
GM - No, that's all right.  I'm Trudy, Trudy Cornell.  Her other roommate is 
     Marissa.  She's asleep in the bedroom right now.  I can go wake her, but 
     I can tell you that she's not going to take this very well.
PR - It would probably be easier if you didn't get her.  Um, did Lisa date a 
     lot of people?
GM - She dated anybody who could get her a fix.
PR - Do you know anything about Joey?
GM - I know he worked for the Mob.  I don't know what he did, but he packed 
     and he had a lot of cash, and he thought he was hot shit.
PR - Did he have a New York accent?
GM - East Coast.  I don't know from whereabouts.  'Course, you get a lot of 
     people out here from New York, since the bombing.
PR - [laughs]  Yeah.  Was she over there often?
GM - She just about lived there.
PR - Did Joey ever bring anybody over here?  Any of his friends?
GM - I wouldn't let him come over here.  I know he and some of his friends 
     used to go get her at work, but I never met any of them.
PR - Well, there's not much I have to ask you, at this time.  It's really too 
     late now, to do anything for her, but we needed to notify you.
GM - Do you know who I need to call, to take care of the funeral arrangements?
PR - That's right, her SIN was fake.  That depends.  We don't care how she got 
     it, but she did have a fake SIN number.
GM - She was from San Fransciso. 
PR - We'll see if we can match her DNA with anyone up there.  Maybe we can 
     find her family.
GM - That little bastard.  Marissa's going to be crushed.
PR - Is there any chance that she might have seen any of Joey's friends?
GM - She's met them, but you won't be able to talk to her for a while.  I'd 
     advise you to go down and talk to Terence and everybody at the Doll, and 
     see if they saw them.
PR - I noticed she didn't have any tattoos or earrings.  Was there any reason 
     for that?  Did she not believe in them?
GM - She was putting too much into her body to be too concerned with what she 
     was putting on.  She was working up to getting a big full-color tattoo, 
     but she hadn't done it yet.
PR - Does it seem like this lady's overexaggerating her drug problem?
GM - She could be.  She comes across as the kind of person who did it herself, 
     and went straight, and is now really anti-everything.
PR - Yeah, I can see that.  That's cool.  We didn't find any airhypo marks on 
     her.  Was she, ah . . . ?
GM - She used an inhaler.
PR - We did find an airhypo on the premises, and if she wasn't using it, and 
     Mr. Galvano wasn't . . .
GM - He wasn't using it?
PR - No.  
GM - I don't know who that could be.  Any one of his friends, I figure.
PR - Well . . . I guess that's it.  I really just wanted to notify you.
GM - Do you have a number I could call?
PR - Um . . . yeah.  Whatever you need, here's the NCPD number.  They can 
     route it through me, if necessary.  We'll try to track down her family 
     and let you know.
GM - Thank you.
PR - No problem.
GM - Well, you know, half the time we hear it from the body bank.  "Sign this 
     release form so we can use her kidneys," you know.
PR - Well, thank you.
GM - You leave.
PR - [laughs]  I figure there's more crap going on around that house than 
     . . . 
GM - Yep.  But she's not going to tell you.
PR - I don't care.  That's their deal.
GM - The Voodoo Doll is within walking distance.
PR - I'm going to walk to the Voodoo Doll, and then after that, I guess I'll 
     call Nichols.
GM - The Voodoo Doll is a little hole-in-the wall tattoo-piercing parlor.  
     "Voodoo Doll" is written above the door in African letters, and there's 
     a little animated mannikin with pins and stuff stuck through it that 
     climbs all over the logo.  The windows are totally papered over with 
     tattoo designs.  You go inside, and you're in a small, dark waiting room, 
     with more designs and photos on the walls, comfortable chairs, a coffee 
     table with binders of more designs, and a counter to the right with an 
     adding machine.  A kind of drum-laden, African dub is playing quietly, 
     and there are masks and stuff on the walls.  There are four or five 
     nervous-looking college students here, flipping through the binders, and 
     some heavily tattooed, pierced and shaven old-timers lounging around 
     drinking coffee, with bandages wrapped around various parts of their 
     bodies.  Behind the counter is a tall black man, about 35, with jeans 
     and a black t-shirt on and a silver stud in his nose.  His hair is shaved 
     short.  He's got an audio bead in his ear, and he's talking into a cell 
     phone with a harried expression on his face.  You can hear from a 
     curtained doorway off behind him, to the left, the whine of machinery and 
     the high-pitched squeal of something that sounds like a dentist's drill.
PR - I'm going to go up to the counter.
GM - He looks at you and puts the phone down.
PR - I'm, ah, Detective Sergeant Nobel, with Night City PD.  You knew a Lisa 
     Stansfield, correct?
GM - Yes.  Yes, I did.  He looks surprised.  She was my employee.
PR - She isn't anymore?
GM - Well, I was getting around to firing her the next time she showed up.
PR - Ah.  Well, the news is rather bad, I'm afraid.  She's been murdered.
GM - [pause] My god.  She's been murdered?
PR - I'd like to ask you a few questions, if I may.
GM - Uh, of course.  Come, ah, into the back.   He says, Alameda! and this 
     Latina girl, a short, rotund little sexpot-type girl, comes out of the 
     back.
PR - [laughs] I know the type.
GM - She comes out and gives you a look and climbs up on a bar stool behind
     the counter.  She's got this red, scalloped turtleneck deal on, with a 
     gauzy skirt, and studs in her ears, and some kind of climbing rose tattoo 
     creeping up out of her cleavage.
PR - A lot of the girls at raves dress like that.
GM - He takes you through the curtain and opens a door to the left.  This is 
     his office.  It's got that cut-rate, gray padded office furniture in it, 
     with a black steel desk and filing cabinet, and a table-top computer on 
     one end of the desk.  He says, I'm Terence Lansky.  I'm the, ah, manager-
     owner of the Doll.  There are a lot of pin-ups of famous black and
     Hispanic simstim stars and singers in here, especially the ones with 
     tattoos.
PR - Men or women?
GM - Both.  A lot of bare chests from the men.  He's an equal opportunity 
     ogler.
PR - Well, what I was hoping on doing was asking you a few questions, and 
     perhaps showing you some photos, and seeing if you recognized anybody.
GM - All right.   He sits down.  He's got an annoying nervous habit of playing 
     with the stud in his nose.  It's almost like he's picking his nose, 
     because he gets it between his fingers like this, with his thumb inside 
     and his index finger on the other end outside.
PR - [laughs]  Quit that.  Well, I don't want to show him the OG files, 
     because he wouldn't know, and I don't want anyone to know that I've got 
     them.  [laughs]
GM - So you just want to show him the 3D stills?
PR - Yeah.
GM - He says, Have a seat.  Um, when did this happen?
PR - I'll sit down.  Late Friday night.  We found her at her boyfriend's 
     house.  We're trying to see . . . well, we know what the people who did 
     it look like, but we don't know who they are.  I wanted to see if you 
     recognized any of them.
GM - All right.  This is . . . ah . . . this is just terrible.  Did he do it?
PR - No, some other people, actually, whose pictures I want to show you.
GM - All right.  These aren't, um, graphic, or anything, are they?
PR - Oh, no.  No, these are just mock-ups of what the suspects might look 
     like.
GM - Will you want to talk to, ah, any of the other employees?  I know 
     Alameda talked to her a lot.
PR - Well, I'd like to talk to you first.  I'd like to talk to her afterwards.
GM - Okay.
PR - How long did she work here?
GM - About four months, almost five.  She did designs, and we usually had her 
     on the front desk.  Most of our better designs are hers.  She didn't, ah, 
     actually apply them.
PR - Do you know if she had any family in San Francisco?
GM - I have her, ah, records, and as far as I know, she was born and raised 
     in Night City.
PR - We thought she might have had some relatives up in San Francisco.
GM - I don't know of any.
PR - Did you ever see Joey Galvano?
GM - Yes, I met him.  
PR - Did he ever bring any . . .
GM - Friends?  He, ah, brought people with him when he picked her up, 
     sometimes.
PR - What did they look like?
GM - I don't really remember.  Alameda would, um, know more about that than I 
     would.  They mainly hung around in the waiting room, looking at our 
     piercing folders and making rude comments.
PR - [laughs] I see.  I guess I'll talk to Alameda, then, but before I do that, 
     do you know how long she knew Joey Galvano?
GM - Lisa?  She didn't start going out with him until after she started 
     working here.
PR - Well, I just wanted to let you know what was going on.  Was there anyone 
     else she hung out with?  Anyone else that I could talk to?
GM - Well, her roommates.
PR - Any other employees?
GM - Um, just Alameda, I think.
PR - Where would you prefer that I speak to her?
GM - You can use the office.  Let me go and get her.  He leaves.  A few 
     seconds later, Alameda comes in.  Alameda Ortiz.  She sashays in and sits 
     down.
PR - God.  [laughs]  You don't know why I'm here, do you?
GM - [Alameda] No.
PR - Well, ah, I have some bad news, and I was going to ask you some questions 
     and maybe have you look at some pictures for me.
GM - [Alameda] All right, I can do that.
PR - You know Lisa Stansfield, right?
GM - [Alameda] Yes.
PR - She's been murdered.  I'm a detective with Night City homicide, and we're 
     trying to identify the suspects.
GM - She's sitting there, kinda, "Whoa!"
PR - Does she look like she's going to be upset?
GM - More surprised.  She's like, "Whoa!"
PR - [laughs]  Yeah.  Somebody you work with gets killed . . . How long did you 
     know Lisa?
GM - [Alameda] She started working here in March?  April?
PR - She met Joey Galvano shortly after that?
GM - [Alameda] Yes.
PR - Do you know where she met him?  Or how they met?
GM - [Alameda] Um, I'm thinking that she might have met him at the Limbo.
PR - Do I recognize the Limbo?
GM - Yes.  That's the place where her roommate worked.
PR - [laughs] I don't want to go there.  Did she frequent anywhere else?
GM - [Alameda] She was going to the Limbo, she was going to the American 
     Dream.  She went to the warehouse things they have.
PR - Did you ever notice any of Joey's friends, coming over?
GM - [Alameda] Well, he would come by, and be picking her up from work, and 
     his friends would be with him sometimes.
PR - What did they look like?
GM - [Alameda] They wore suits.
PR - What type of builds did they have?
GM - [Alameda] There was one man, I thought was Spanish, but he turned out to 
     be Italian.  He was very big, with a round face.  I thought his name was 
     a Spanish name.  
PR - Do you remember his name?
GM - [Alameda] Not his first name.  That was Justin, or Jerome.  Not a Spanish 
     name.  But his last name was Navarro.  He's older, thirty, thirty-five.  
     He and Joey were close.
PR - Are there names tagged to any of the pictures I have?
GM - No.
PR - I'm like, "Yeah!"
GM - Take your intelligence and add a d10 to it.
PR - [rolls]  Fifteen.
GM - You remember that one of the numbers on the pad was a "J.N."
PR - Hmmm.  I have some pictures for you to work at.  If you could tell me if 
     you recognize any of these . . .
GM - [Alameda] Okay.
PR - What, exactly, do I have?
GM - You have all the shots of the people who are working in Organized Crime.  
     You have the 3D shots of the perps, which you can show as stills or 
     animated.  You have the voice rendering of one of the guys.
PR - I'm going to show her the 3D shots.  Is this one of the earrings that you 
     guys carry?
GM - [Alameda] No, we don't carry that kind.  That looks like the new kind.  
     One of the microrefrigerated ones.
PR - What do they do?
GM - [Alameda] They have a little microprocessor they implant, in the skin 
     right behind the ear, with a refrigeration unit in the earlobe.  And a 
     little metal ball comes down from the ear, and you put mineral water in 
     it, and it freezes.
PR - Huh.
GM - [Alameda] It's a real icicle.  It's expensive.  We don't carry those, 
     because you have to implant them.
PR - Is it pretty rare?
GM - [Alameda] It's just hitting now.
PR - What group is it popular with?  Corps, what?
GM - [Alameda] Corps, yes.  And people who, ah, wear suits.
PR - [laughs] Yeah.  Do you recognize any of these men?
GM - [Alameda] Well, this one, I have never seen before.  She's indicating the 
     fedora guy.   This one . . . if I've seen him, I would remember his 
     earring, but he looks familiar.
PR - Do you know where you might have seen him?
GM - [Alameda] I think he might have been with Joey once.  But if he was with 
     him then, he didn't have the earring.  I would have remembered.
PR - So, obviously, if that was him, he doesn't wear it all the time.  You 
     know anyone else who might recognize either of these two guys?
GM - [Alameda] You could show them to Noah, but I don't think he'd remember.
PR - Did she ever talk about Joey?
GM - [Alameda] She told me what he was like in bed.  [giggles]
PR - Can I make a Human Perception roll to see if there's anything she's not 
     telling me?
GM - Go ahead.
PR - [rolls]  [groans]
GM - Up.  Roll it again.
PR - [laughs]  Damn it!  [rolls]  Ah, damn it.
GM - Nope, she's telling you everything she knows.  She says, Yeah, I hear 
     he's pretty good.
PR - [laughs] Well, hey, if I was in Vegas, I'd be in worse shape.  [laughs]  
     Did she ever talk about places he hung out?
GM - [Alameda]  They used to go eat at Beppo's, sometimes.  The Trattoria.
PR - Is that the mob hangout?
GM - [laughs]  Yes.  It's where the minor-league Mafia go to eat.
PR - [laughs]  Yeah, I could just see myself going in there.  "Yeah, I'd like 
     a plate of spaghetti, please."
GM - You white-bread American guy, you.
PR - You don't remember any names she might have mentioned in passing?
GM - [Alameda] No.  There was one guy . . . he was, he was very flash.  He had 
     these cybereyes, they were mirrors, with cracks in them.
PR - That is pretty flashy.  And he was one of Joey's friends?
GM - [Alameda] He came by with him, yes.  Did you go talk to her roommates?
PR - Yeah, but they weren't much help.
GM - [Alameda] Did you talk to Trudy?  He's pretty cute, isn't he?
PR - [pause]  You know, I thought to myself, "Check the neck."  [laughs]  But 
     nowadays, even that's not foolproof.
GM - She's trying to shock you.  She's disappointed.
PR - Ah, well.  Well, she was kinda big, but there's no way to really tell, 
     any more.  I didn't get a chance to talk to her other roommate, the one 
     that works down that the Limbo.
GM - [Alameda] She wouldn't take this very well.  Maybe later, later this week.
PR - Do you think she'd be any help?
GM - [Alameda] Probably no.
PR - Okay.  That's all the questions I have for you right now.  If anything 
     happens, here's my card.  If you have any questions, or you remember 
     anything else, you can call.  Oh, by the way, she was living in San 
     Francisco, previously.  Did she have any relatives up there?
GM - [Alameda] No, I thought she was from Night City.
PR - Well, I can contact you for the funeral, if you like.
GM - [Alameda] I can talk to Trudy.
PR - Is Noah here right now?
GM - [Alameda] Yes, he's in back.  Noah turns out to be this late twenties 
     punked-out shaven-headed guy with multiple lip piercings and a raggedy 
     army vest.  He was originally a red-head, but you can only tell by 
     looking at his pierced eyebrows.  He's running a needle as you talk to 
     him and he doesn't know anything.  "No, man, I don't know anything."
PR - "Yeah, man, you know, I mean, you know, I don't know."
GM - Exactly.  Eeeeeeee.
PR - [laughs]  I'm sure there's lots more shit I can ask, but I can't think 
     of it right now.
GM - You can go back or call later.  Plus, you're probably going to get pulled 
     off this anyway.
PR - Yeah.  I'm trying to get the big picture before they take it away.  
     [laughs]  I'm going to call Nichols again.
GM - Ring, ring.   Hey, this is Christopher Nichols.  That's Detective 
     Christopher Nichols, in case you're an MCI guy and you're trying to get 
     money out of me, in which case you can quit it . . . 
PR - [laughs]
GM - It's getting on towards two o'clock now.
PR - He has a cell phone, doesn't he?
GM - Yes.  Either it's turned off, or he has it hooked into his answering 
     machine.
PR - [laughs] Nichols, where the hell are you?
GM - He probably takes the phone and hooks it to his machine when he goes to 
     bed.  And he's got his police beeper, which he is also not responding to.
PR - Hey, ah, Nichols?  I really need to talk to you.
GM - There is no response.
PR - Jesus.  Where does he live?
GM - By the Gaslamp, down south of the precinct.
PR - I'm going to drive down there.
GM - He lives in a nice little Carlsbad-ish area near the Gaslamp, which is 
     the police hangout.  Murphy's is down here, the police bar, and there 
     are a lot of off-duty officers hanging out.
PR - Oh, so I've probably been to Murphy's before.
GM - Yeah.  It's got that quaint atmosphere to it.  With the gaslamp-style 
     streetlamps.  Nichols lives above an antique shop, in a set of five 
     apartments.  There's the store in front, and stairs that go up to a 
     balcony-type deal where everyone's front doors are, almost like a motel-
     type deal, with a closed balcony.  The outside wall is one big series of 
     windows lining a hallway that runs around the building, and it's got 
     blinds alll along it.  The door that lets you into the hallway has a big 
     frosted glass upper half.  You park and go up the stairs.  
PR - It's probably expensive to live here.
GM - Not as expensive as you might think, especially for cops.  It's an off-
     duty neighborhood, and they like the police presence, so he probably got 
     a deal on it. 
PR - Can I assume that he left his cell phone at home, then, if he left?
GM - If he's not here, he's either got his cell phone with him, and is not 
     answering, or it's here and it's hooked into the machine.
PR - Where's he usually park?
GM - Around the back of the building.
PR - I'm going to check and see if his car's there.
GM - It's there.
PR - Go back and knock on the door.
GM - No answer.
PR - Uh . . . [laughs]  What type of door is it?
GM - A light wooden door.  You could probably break it down.  There's no 
     peephole.
PR - Is there a button, or anything?
GM - There's a doorbell.
PR - Ring, ring, ring, ring.
GM - Just gonna hold it down?
PR - Yeah.
GM - No answer.
PR - I'll go downstairs.  Is there a manager?
GM - There's an old lady in the antique shop, dusting things.  She's got a 
     cashmere sweater and snow-white hair.  She blinks at you and asks if 
     there's a problem.  
PR - I explain that the officer I'm currently working with lives upstairs, and 
     his car's out back, and he's not answering his door or his phone.
GM - She says she'll get you the key.  She goes around into the back and gets 
     it.
PR - Okay.  
GM - Go back upstairs?
PR - Yeah.
GM - Make an Awareness roll.
PR - [rolls]  Seven . . . twenty-two.  Is it visual?
GM - Yes.  
PR - So, twenty-five.
GM - The lock, and the paint around the lock, is scratched.
PR - Somebody broke in here?
GM - It looks fresh.
PR - I'm going to open up the door.
GM - Do that police entry thing?
PR - Yes.  It looks suspicious, at this point.  [laughs]
GM - The door swings open.  You're looking into a small white room, a wide 
     open space with an archway off to your right, leading to a hall.  He has 
     a lot of bleached, wood furniture.  It's a bachelor pad, and there is a 
     lot of stuff thrown around.  On the kitchen counter is his cell phone, 
     plugged into an answering machine, and the message light is blinking.
PR - I'm going to hit his answering machine.
GM - All the messages are from you.
PR - Check the bedroom.
GM - As you're moving down the hall, make an Awareness roll.
PR - [rolls] Hey.  Is it visual?
GM - Yes.
PR - Twenty-seven.
GM - There's a few drops of blood on the floor here.  He's got low-shag white 
     carpet.
PR - How much blood are we talking about?
GM - Just a little splatter.
PR - Before I go in, I'm going to see if I can tell where the blood came from.
GM - Back in the living room, there's a chair overturned.  There's a lot of 
     general chaos in this room, and since you've never been here, you can't 
     tell if it normally looks like this.  There's nothing broken, however, 
     and there are a few blood drips right around the chair.
PR - I'm going to treat this like a crime scene, at this point.  Well, shit.  
     I don't have any of those damn baggies.
GM - Nope.  Nichols was always giving them to you.
PR - I'm going to go over and breathe on the bedroom doorknob, and see if 
     there are any fingerprints on it.
GM - You don't see any.  It would be obvious, since it's a brass doorknob.
PR - I'm going to open the door.
GM - [rolls] He's got a single bed, a futon on a light bleached wood frame.  
     It's not even a double.  That should tell you what his sexual aspirations 
     are.  He has some photos of arty desert scenes on the wall, and a 
     collection of black-and-white photos scattered on a desk in the corner.  
     A closet with louvered doors is in one wall.  There is some more blood in 
     here, and some strings on the floor.  You know when a braided rope 
     unravels?  How the strings are crinkled?
PR - Yeah.  Do I hear anything?  Do I smell anything?
GM - Well, roll an Awareness, and add your olfactory bonus.
PR - [rolls] Three, four, five . . . fourteen.
GM - You smell urine.
PR - Shit.  Somebody died in here.  Can I smell where the urine's coming from?
GM - The closet.
PR - How tall is the closet?
GM - Floor to ceiling.  The doors slide open.  The louvers don't move.
PR - Can I open it without touching the handle?
GM - Yes.
PR - Can I tell from the blood and the urine smell how recent this is?
GM - At least last night.  Both had time to dry.
PR - Okay.  I'm going to open the closet door.  I have the feeling I know what 
     I'm going to find.
GM - You open up the closet door.  The first thing you see is a big jumble of 
     empty hangers on the rod, and a big pile of clothes on the floor directly 
     under it.  You also see a bare foot sticking out from under the clothes.
PR - Does it look like Nichols' foot?
GM - The size is comparable.
PR - Ah, shit.  [sighs] I'm going to get on my phone and call the department.
GM - The desk sergeant answers.
PR - Yeah, this is Detective Sergeant David Nobel.
GM - You hear a muffled groan from under the clothing.
PR - [pause] Wait a second!  [laughs] I pull all the clothes off.
GM - Nichols is in the closet.
PR - Is he alive?
GM - He's alive.
PR - Does he look really hurt, like I need to call an ambulance, right now?
GM - You can't tell.  He's naked.  He's been hog-tied, with his heels pulled 
     up behind his back and his hands tied to them.  The binding around one 
     of his ankles has slipped up to his knee, and it's that foot that was 
     sticking out.  The lower part of that leg is blue.  He's been beat to 
     shit.  His face is swollen, and there's this gorgeous sunrise of bruises 
     rising on his ribs and back.
PR - He probably won't want this talked about.  [laughs]
GM - [laughs] No, probably not.
PR - Uh, I need to go right now.  I'll call--
GM - Detective, ah--
PR - I'll call back.
GM - Detective--
PR - This is important!  Who, what!?
GM - Detective, your lieutenant is looking for you . . .
PR - Ah, can you give her a message?  Tell her I'll call her as soon as I can.  
     I'll hang up.  I'm going to unbind him and stuff.
GM - He doesn't look beat up too bad, but he's going to be hurting.  He's 
     waking up now.
PR - Jesus, are you okay, Nichols?  I thought you were dead.
GM - He looks up at you with the one eye that he can get open.
PR - Jesus, Nichols.  [laughs]  I thought I just lost you.
GM - He pulls some of the clothes back over himself, because he's not wearing 
     anything, and says, weakly, Damn it, why couldn't you have come over 
     earlier?
PR - Like how earlier?
GM - Ten o'clock earlier.
PR - [groans]  Okay.  How are you feeling?  Can you sit up?
GM - He puts his hand up.  Let me sit in the closet.  For a minute.  I've been 
     here since eleven o'clock last night.
PR - Well, ah, I was going to have some bad news, but you have some worse 
     news, I guess. [laughs]
GM - Doesn't anybody ever . . . I want you to know this.  I get up early.  I 
     am not late.  I get to the station by nine-thirty at the latest, okay?  
     So, next time, if I don't show, will you check on me earlier?
PR - I've been trying to get a hold of you all day, but I've had to keep a 
     low profile.
GM - He's just looking at you blearily.  He's all swollen, and there's blood 
     crusted on his face, and his legs are starting to turn red.
PR - You look pretty bad.
GM - Thank you.  [pause]  I feel pretty bad.  What the hell have you been 
     doing all day?
PR - Well, I went and talked to Stansfield's roommates, I went and talked to 
     her work, I talked to Rajah.  That was a disaster.  I thought he was 
     going to come around.  Somebody attempted to bribe me . . .
GM - Jesus.  I pissed myself, too.  On top of all this.  [pause]  Somebody 
     tried to bribe you?  We're batting a thousand today, aren't we?
PR - So much shit has happened today, I don't even remember.
GM - You think you could help me stand up?
PR - I'll grab him under one arm. 
GM - He gets up and shuffles over to the bed, and puts some underwear on.  You 
     think that he would have been much more upset if you'd gotten to him 
     earlier, like at ten this morning, but he's been in the closet so long 
     now, he's just glad that somebody came to get him.
PR - He's like, "Thank God, somebody's coming to get me out of here."  God.  
     I need to talk to the lieutenant.
GM - Yeah.  Have you seen any of my stuff?  He's looking around on the bed 
     for something.
PR - It looks like this place has been gone over.  Uh, does it normally look 
     like this?
GM - It doesn't normally look like this.
PR - What, were they looking for evidence?
GM - I don't know.  Is my badge here?
PR - Where would it be?
GM - In my coat pocket.  In the living room, I guess.
PR - I'll go see if I can find it.
GM - He shuffles out after you, holding on to the wall.  You find his coat, 
     shirt, pants, and underwear thrown in one corner of the living room.  
     They're empty.  There's no wallet or ID in them.  The shirt and pants 
     have been cut open.  He watches you pick them up and tells you that he 
     went down to a bar called Sharkey's Night, down south.  Apparently this 
     nihilist band called the Razor Dogs killed themselves on stage.
PR - [surprised, laughs]
GM - So he had to go down there and take care of that mess.  That was around 
     ten o'clock.  He came back to his house around 11, noticed that it looked 
     like the lock had been fussed with, and opened the door, at which point 
     somebody jumped him.  He thinks the guy was about his height, but weighed 
     significantly more.
PR - How tall is Nichols?
GM - About six-one.  And he's thin.  He drew his weapon, but didn't turn on the 
     light.  Since there were no lights on, he figured whoever was in there 
     was hiding, or had come and gone.  As he went into the living room, 
     somebody came out of the kitchen and clubbed him on the  head with 
     something, probably a gun butt.  His feet were kicked out from under him, 
     somebody put their knee on his back, knocking the wind out of him, and 
     then proceeded to tie him up with amazing efficiency, and then beat the 
     shit out of him.  He knows the guy had cyberoptics, because he remembers 
     seeing them flash, like mirrors, in the dim light from the door.  He 
     knows the guy had short hair, and he remembers that the guy had some kind 
     of aftershave smell.
PR - Does the guy with the cracked mirror eyes have about that build?
GM - You don't know.
PR - I think you're right.  That matches one of the people that Galvano used 
     to hang with.
GM - He says, rummaging through the stuff on the floor, Hey, I can't find my 
     medical pass.
PR - Oh, shit.  I'm calling, right now.  
GM - [laughs]
PR - I'm going to get through to the nurse.  I know what the motherfuckers 
     look like.  
GM - You can't remember her name.
PR - Can I roll?
GM - Sure.  Intelligence plus a d10.
PR - [rolls] Um, seventeen.
GM - Susan Hodgkins.
PR - Yes, may I speak to Susan Hodgkins, in Intensive Care?
GM - I'm sorry, she's off-shift right now.  May I ask who's calling?
PR - This is Detective Sergeant Nobel.  I need to talk to the officer on duty.
GM - Hold on.  There's a pause, and she comes back on the line.  Here he is.
PR - Who is this?
GM - [Officer] Excuse me?
PR - This is Detective Sergeant Nobel.  Who am I speaking to?
GM - [Officer] Uh, Evans, sir.  Patrolman Evans.
PR - Evans, we may have a problem.  Somebody may be coming to take care of our
     witness.  I'm going to be down as soon as I can.
GM - [Officer]  Nobody's been down here while I've been on shift.
PR - Is she still there?
GM - [Officer] Yeah, she's fine.
PR - Can you check on her?
GM - [Officer] Yeah, sure.  Hang on a minute.  He says something in a low 
     voice to someone on the other end of the line.  He gets back on the line.  
     Yeah, she's okay.  The nurse says she's walking around.
PR - Can you stay in the room with her?
GM - [Officer] Well, yeah.  What exactly are we looking for?
PR - Somebody's stolen a hospital pass.  I'm going to be down there in just a 
     minute.
GM - [Officer] Should I notify hospital security?
PR - Yeah.  [laughs]  Uh, believe it or not, I have one of the passes, myself, 
     so there should be two unaccounted for.
GM - [Officer] So there's two missing?
PR - Yes.  I have one, and whoever stole the other one from the person who 
     was assigned to me has one.  It seemed like a good idea at the time.  
     We're going to be down there as soon as possible, so be advised that 
     someone might try to get to her before then, and he could be heavily 
     armed.  And enhanced.
GM - [Officer] All right.  You can just hear him going, "Great."
PR - I'll hang up.  We need to get her the hell out of there.
GM - Nichols is stomping around going, Fuck.  Fuck!
PR - I know.  I had one, too.  I'm going to get on the phone and call my 
     lieutenant.
GM - You call.  The desk sergeant puts you through.  She answers.
PR - This is Nobel.  Uh, we got big problems.
GM - We do have big problems.  Where have you been all afternoon?
PR - Well, I've been gathering evidence.  There's a lot to go over.  I heard 
     that you needed to talk to me.
GM - Yes, I do.  I hear you've been having some trouble with case jurisdiction.
PR - Because of Organized Crime?
GM - Yes.  We need you to come down here and straighten this out.  I have 
     several irate officers from OG in my office right now, and I also had a 
     call from Rajah earlier, and I'd like you to explain to me what this 
     business is with you asking him to delay his reports.
PR - Uh, I know there are other people there right now, so you might not be 
     able to talk freely, but this is what's going on right now.  Someone 
     broke into Nichols' apartment, beat the crap out of him, taken his 
     hospital ID pass, and we're assuming is going or has gone to silence the 
     witness.  And somebody put five thousand euro in my bank account, which 
     I didn't ask for.  I called New Jersey, where Galvano was from before, 
     and apparently IAD was using him in an investigation of Organized Crime.  
     I think that they might have found him out, and killed him.
GM - I see.  How far have you gotten? 
PR - Well, we have a name, and rendered pictures of the suspects, and the 
     witness. 
GM - We need to expedite this transfer.  Take Detective Nichols to the 
     hospital, and get down to the precinct as soon as he's taken care of.  
PR - Do you want me to move the witness?
GM - Yes.
PR - I might have to disappear for a couple hours, while I find somewhere to 
     take her.
GM - Stay as long as you need to make sure that Detective Nichols is going to 
     be all right.  Just try to get here as soon as you can.
PR - I'll get back to you as soon as I can.  Click.  I am panicking.
GM - Nichols is sitting here in his underwear, looking at you.
PR - Nichols, we need to get dressed.
GM - All right, all right.  He starts moving at half speed.  Jeans, shirt, 
     suit jacket, shoes with no socks.
PR - I was all ready to let this go.
GM - He gets his shoulder holster on, looks for his gun, and finally finds it 
     in the sofa.
PR - This guy is easy as hell to identify, so I think we just need to get her 
     out.  My question right now is, where?
GM - I have no idea.  North, south?  I have no idea.
PR - Shit.  This could be bad.  I'm guessing that somebody has probably been 
     by my house, so I'm going to call my neighbor.
GM - He answers the phone.  Jerry speakin'.
PR - Hey there.  Is Ralph running around out there?
GM - [Marks] Yeah, he was out front a while ago.  I think he's sleeping right 
     now.
PR - Has anybody been by?  I think somebody might be trying to break into my 
     house.
GM - [Marks] Break into your Drifter?
PR - Has anybody been hanging around?
GM - [Marks] No.  We had a parcel guy come by a couple hours ago, though.
PR - Did he drop off a package?
GM - [Marks] Not at your place.
PR - So, as far as you know, nobody's been around?  Can you call Ralph and 
     make sure he's still running around?
GM - [Marks] Yeah, hold on.  He puts the phone down.  He comes back a few 
     minutes later.  He's sleeping on your porch step, son.
PR - Are you sure he's sleeping?
GM - [Marks] 'Course he's sleeping.  Sleeps pretty heavy.
PR - Can you wake him up real quick?
GM - [Marks] Yeah, sure.  He sounds puzzled.  When he comes back, he sounds 
     worried.  Well, I can't wake him up, for the life of me.  I hope he's 
     feelin' all right.
PR - Shit.  Is he still breathing and everything?
GM - [Marks] 'Course he's breathing, son.  Why wouldn't he be breathing?
PR - I think somebody might have poisoned him.
GM - [Marks] Poisoned him?
PR - Yeah.  Is there any way you could take him to the vet for me?
GM - [Marks] Yeah, I can do that.  You think he might have eaten something?
PR - Maybe.  Hey, be careful out there.
GM - [Marks] You want me to check your place, son?  See if anybody's gotten 
     into it?
PR - Just see if there are any scratches around the lock.
GM - [Marks] All right.  Clunk.  I don't see any.
PR - And you can't wake him up still?
GM - [Marks] Nope.  I'll get him to the vet for you.  You have your cell 
     phone?
PR - Yes.
GM - [Marks] All right.  I'll call you when I get him there.  He hangs up.
PR - Don't fuck with my dog.  [laughs]  Nichols, I think somebody's been to 
     my house.  I was thinking I could get the Drifter and head on out, but 
     it ain't gonna happen.
GM - We better go to the hospital, then.
PR - Is there any way I can call a black-and-white to my house?
GM - Yes.  You call and arrange that.  Nichols says, You're driving.
PR - I don't know what's going to happen, at this point.  You might want to 
     bring some extra clothes, in case we have to stay at a hotel, or 
     something. 
GM - I am wondering how the hell they found out who we are.
PR - I have some ideas about that.
GM - Lay them on me.
PR - Well, I'm thinking OG.
GM - That's possible.
PR - On my message thing, does it say what time the message was put in?
GM - About eight-thirty last night.
PR - Eight-thirty.  Today's only Sunday.  Hell, all they had to do was check 
     and see who was investigating that address.  Shit.  We can't just pick 
     this chick up, because she needs medical attention.  Shit.
GM - You have any idea where to take her?
PR - No.  I'm going to call Chuck.
GM - You call him.  Yes, who is this, please?
PR - Hey, this is Nobel.  I have a question for you.
GM - [Chuck] No, you don't have a question for me.  I'm not in right now.  
     Click.
PR - Did he hang up on me?
GM - Yep.
PR - That little fucker.  Well, they're probably bitching him out right now, 
     too.  I'm going to head on over to the hospital with Nichols.
GM - He sits slumped against the passenger door.
PR - I want to stop at the bank and pick up some money.  Nichols, do you have 
     any cash in your bank account?  I have plenty in mine, but I don't want 
     to touch it.
GM - Why?
PR - In case anything happens.  I want to have cash, so they can't trace us.
GM - I can get some out.  He gets some and comes back, and he doesn't say 
     anything about any excess funds in his account.
PR - I'm going to get three hundred out.
GM - And then you go to the hospital.
PR - Right.  I have no idea where we're going to take her.
GM - Well, let's go talk to her.  You go through the lobby, and the security 
     guy comes over to take away your pass.
PR - Yeah, I know. [laughs]
GM - He starts to go off on you.
PR - Have you found the other security badge?
GM - No.
PR - I'm going to walk away from him and go up.  
GM - A uniformed officer opens the door.  His nametag says, "Evans."  He looks 
     vaguely European, though.  He looks at your badge, looks at Nichols and 
     his eyes get a little wide.
PR - Yeah, I know he looks bad.  Uh, is there a nurse here?
GM - Yes, she's standing behind Evans.  
PR - Um, nurse?  Could you get someone to look at Detective Nichols?  He's 
     been in, ah, sort of a scuffle.
GM - She nods.  If she needs anything, you can get me with the call button.  
     She clucks at Nichols while she leads him out, protesting.
PR - Has anybody been in here?
GM - [Evans] No.  She had a couple phone calls, but nobody's been up to see 
     her.
PR - I'll go over.  Would you mind waiting outside?
GM - He leaves.  She's sitting on the edge of the bed, in her hospital gown, 
     with one of those portable oxygen tanks hooked up.
PR - You don't have to answer me.  I met you last night, but you were asleep.
GM - She looks at you, and the tank hisses.
PR - We need to move you, but I'm not sure what kind of facility to take you 
     to.
GM - Why do you need to move me?
PR - Somebody's stolen a hospital pass.  Somebody knows where you are.
GM - She picks at the bed with one hand.  Make a Human Perception roll.
PR - [rolls] Five . . . twenty.
GM - She's not going to admit that she knows what you're talking about.
PR - Listen.  I know what you saw.  I won't even ask you about it.  My main 
     concern is to keep you safe, because they know what you saw, even if you 
     won't tell us about it.  We need to find somewhere to take you where we 
     can continue your medical treatment without them trying to kill you.
GM - All right.
PR - When you decided to come down here, were there any other clinics in the 
     area that you were thinking about?
GM - She thinks for a second.  One in Pacifica.  It was a private clinic.  
     Franklin Medical.
PR - Pacifica would be great.  I'd like to take you out of town.  You don't 
     have to answer this, but why did you come down the well for treatment?
GM - I would not have been admitted anywhere up there.  
PR - I understand.  
GM - You're going to use her as a bargaining chip, aren't you?
PR - If they kill me, and they don't know where she is, there's still someone 
     out there who knows what's going on.  And I have all the evidence on me 
     right now, which probably pisses the guy who broke into my Drifter off 
     to no end.
GM - What are you going to do now?
PR - We would prefer to get you out of here today.  I'm going to go find the 
     officer.  If anybody else tries to take her into custody, stop them.
GM - He comes inside.  Okay.
PR - Even if it's someone higher up.
GM - [Evans] Uh . . .
PR - Look, I know this sounds bad, but there's no other way to keep her safe.
GM - [Evans] Well, I can only do so much, sir.
PR - I understand.  I'm just trying to keep her safe.
GM - [Evans] Yes, sir. 
PR - Okay.  I'm going to go back over to the witness.  Colette, right?
GM - Yes.
PR - Can you tell me anything else about your condition, Colette?  How 
     critical are you?
GM - I can move.  I can't drive.  I need this oxygen, and I have a purifier.
PR - How much longer do you have on your treatment?
GM - As long as it takes.
PR - Does it have to be constant?
GM - No, I go in every few weeks.
PR - If we kept you somewhere, could you go to another clinic for treatment?  
     Like that one in Pacifica?
GM - Yes.
PR - We'll probably get a hotel room in Pacifica, then, and keep you safe 
     there.
GM - Nichols comes back in, all bandaged up, with a cold pack on his head.
PR - How you doing, Nichols?
GM - [Nichols] Great.
PR - I think we're going to have to take the maglev.  We can just buy a 
     ticket, right?
GM - [Nichols] Where are we taking her?
PR - Pacifica.
GM - [Nichols] No, that's pretty local.  It's like a bus ticket.  They don't 
     take your name except for the Planetrans.  It's fifteen minutes on the 
     maglev.
PR - How far is Pacifica, driving time?
GM - [Nichols] Almost an hour.
PR - I'll give her the lowdown on Pacifica.
GM - She agrees to that.  Evans is watching you guys discuss this.
PR - He's been here since I got him, hasn't he?
GM - Yeah.
PR - Sorry about this.  It totally slipped my mind.  I was going to ask you 
     to go outside, but it's a little late now.  That part of the conversation 
     never happened.
GM - [Evans] Yes, sir.  He shakes his head.
PR - [laughs] Damn.  I'm blowing it, this time.  I'll tell her to pack 
     anything she needs.
GM - Barring any further complications, you're going to pack her stuff, and 
     get to the NCART station . . . how are you getting there?
PR - I'm going to get her into my car, drive to the maglev station, with 
     Nichols in the car.  He can take her down and call me when he gets there 
     with her.
GM - He calls ahead to the Pacifica Hilton.  It's a nice, beachfront community, 
     where corporates go to let their hair down.  There shouldn't be any 
     trouble.
PR - I can't really use police money for this, can I?
GM - No.  You can submit a receipt to them later, if you think you can get 
     away with it.
PR - Shit.  I have plenty of money, but I can't touch any of it. [laughs]
GM - Nichols says he'll cover what he can.  He wants a reciept, though.  You 
     take care of all this.  He goes with her to the hotel room, and says 
     he'll stay until you get done talking to the lieutenant.  
PR - Make the reservation under a name I don't know about.
GM - Okay. 
PR - I can get hold of you on your phone, wherever you are.
GM - Yeah.  Just remember, I get up before ten, okay?
PR - At ten o'clock, I'll be on my way down there.
GM - You going to go check on your dog?
PR - I'm going to call.
GM - Sherry answers.
PR - Hey, Sherry.  Is Ralph okay?
GM - [Sherry] Oh!  Well, he's down at the vet's.  My husband called, and I 
     guess he'd been given a canine sedative.  He'll be all right.  The 
     officer's here.  Do you want to talk to her?
PR - Yes, I would.
GM - A female voice comes on the line.  She says, Shelby.
PR - This is Detective Sergeant Nichols.
GM - [Shelby] Sergeant.
PR - Did you find anything at my house?
GM - [Shelby] Nope.  Nothing appears to be disturbed.  I did find one weird 
     thing, though.
PR - What?
GM - [Shelby] Did you leave anything on your bed?
PR - Did I?
GM - Roll.
PR - [rolls] Fifteen.
GM - You don't think so.
PR - No.  What was it?
GM - [Shelby] Well, there's a four-foot length of nylon rope, coiled on your 
     bed.
PR - Nylon rope?
GM - [Shelby] Yeah.  It's about a half-inch thick.
PR - Is there a note with it, or anything?
GM - [Shelby] Nope.  It's just laying there.
PR - So, somebody did break in.
GM - [Shelby] Well, if you didn't leave it there, I expect so, sir.
PR - And there was nothing else unusual?
GM - [Shelby] No, sir.
PR - Huh.  Well, lock up when you leave.
GM - [Shelby] Should I treat this as a scene?
PR - Uh, no.  I'd like to, but I don't think it'll do any good.  Thanks for 
     checking it out.
GM - [Shelby] No problem, sir.
PR - Can I talk to Mrs. Marks?
GM - She picks up.  
PR - So, ah, are you guys okay?
GM - [Sherry] We're fine.
PR - I might be out of town for a couple days.
GM - [Sherry] Well, we'd be happy to take care of Ralph for you.
PR - Thank you.
GM - [Sherry] We're used to it by now.
PR - Well, I'm sorry to have to keep dumping him on you.
GM - [Sherry] Oh, that's all right.  He's like part of the family.
PR - Yes, well, I'm sure he is.  And I'm thinking how much he hates it over 
     there. [laughs] If you see anybody hanging around out there again, call 
     the precinct.
GM - She bids you goodbye.  And we'll cut here, to let you figure out what to 
     do next.
PR - That's going to be a tough one.  I don't really want to be involved in 
     this any more.
GM - They'll take you off, soon enough.
PR - Yeah, but Durand's the biggest part of their case.  And they're going to 
     want her, bad.
GM - Yep.
PR - [laughs] I'm like, "Oh, shit."  Nichols is dead.
GM - I was at least expecting you to check him and see if he was alive before 
     you went to call the meatwagon.
PR - [laughs] I smelled the urine, and I figured, loss of bodily function when 
     he died . . .
GM - Well, he's happy that he's not dead.

[end session two]