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Congratulations on both(!) your awards, canonized. If anything shows how great this AAR is, it's that. 
Grubnessul: yep ! And I have a post-finals party on Wednesday but I will try to get two more updates this week as usual !
Murmurandus: Thank you very much ! And glad to know about Bowl of Soup !
Judas Maccabeus: Thanks , JM , and definitely thanks for your support ! Always very grateful to have you as a friend !
Murmurandus: Thank you very much ! And glad to know about Bowl of Soup !
Judas Maccabeus: Thanks , JM , and definitely thanks for your support ! Always very grateful to have you as a friend !
Thank you canonized for the introduction and for the oppertunity to participate in Timelines' saga. The story is a noir piece set in the sidelines of the main story arcs. It takes place in Seattle, shortly before the events of Chapter XXXIII. And now, without further ado, I present...
Purgatory in the Eleventh Hour
Purgatory in the Eleventh Hour
Purgatory in the Eleventh Hour - Chapter 1
Chapter One: It Never Rains but it Pours
“It’s raining. Again.”
Brother Alfred looked across the room at me with a bemused expression.
“It’s always raining here in Seattle. You should know that by now.”
I harrumphed. “Would it be too much to ask for just a little sunshine? Why oh why couldn’t I have been assigned to la Playa del Sol?”
“You’ll just have to get used to it Manny,” Brother Alfred replied with a chuckle. “The Lord places everyone where they need to be.”
I snorted. “Believe me, Hermano, the Lord had nothing to do with this. This is all thanks to that rodent don Copal.”
With a final sigh I turned back to my papers in front of me. A mess of information demanding the urgent attention of one agent Manuel Calavera. That’s me. I’d grown up in Chicago where I ended up becoming a cop. I’d made a name for myself for cracking down on the local gangs and gotten assigned to a unit targeting organized crime. The Mob Squad they’d called us. I’d done well enough to get a promotion out of the local precinct and into the DSC. Things had been going pretty well until all of a sudden I got transferred here to Seattle. Officially it was because they needed someone with my kind experience. Really, I think it was because I managed to tick of don Copal, a mover and shaker on the Chicago scene.
“That’s what I get for throwing up on his suit at that Christmas party,” I mumbled to myself.
“What’s that, Manny?” Brother Alfred asked, looking up.
“Oh, nothing, just reminiscing about the old times,” I answered.
Brother Alfred was the monk in charge of the city library and had been one of the friendlier people I’d met when I’d arrived here . He was from somewhere in England, he’d never specified, and had joined the Church at a young age. Taken all sorts of vows, like poverty and chastity. That always amazed me, though the way my sex life was going right now you couldn’t really tell the difference between us. Maybe I should become a monk just to have an excuse. Then again, you never know. After all, hope springs eternal.
Right now we were sifting through the financial records of some big company called Schwarzschild Industries, looking for any “irregularities.” Yeah, it’s about as exciting as it sounds. But that’s the assignment I’d been given and I was still too new here to gripe about it too loudly. Our section dealt in all manner of crimes; gambling, extortion, prostitution, narcotics, you name it. Anything that the local boys might have trouble with, the DSC gets sent in. But what did I pull for my first assignment? Checking shipping records. Apparently some genius behind a desk had thought that working organized crime counted as ‘pertinent experience.’ Yeah, right. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen this many numbers before.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those thrill seeking, gung-ho morons that are looking for “a little action.” Anyone who wants to engage in gunfights, high speed chases, and other death defying activities on a regular basis has some serious issues to work out. No, I have no qualms about not risking life and limb everyday, but that doesn’t mean I like being stuck in a cramped little room poring over data tables. It reminds me of why I’d hated school. Well, that and gym class. But that’s a different matter entirely.
Truth be told, I wasn’t really sure what I was looking for. The extent of my knowledge came from the intro business class I’d taken back in school. But that’s why they’d assigned me to work with Brother Alfred, I guess. He had a better idea of what he was doing, at least I hoped so. I’d been staring at this same sheet for the last ten minutes; something about it was bothering me but I couldn’t figure out what it was. It was a summary of some of the high tech specialty items they made, mostly for the military, like black boxes and rescue beacons.
I was just about to ask Brother Alfred to come and take a look on it when I was interrupted by a call on my cell phone. Captain Yamashita wanted me to come down the station right away.
************************************************************************
It was a quick drive back from the library and fifteen minutes later I was walking into the Captain’s office. His name was Hideki Yamashita; a tough old bastard, pushing fifty and still smoking like chimney. Some people groused that he’d gotten the job as a toss to the Japanese community but I ignored them. He worked everyone hard and didn’t want to listen to any complaints, but he was fair and he sure as hell knew what he was doing.
Right now he was holding a cigarette in one hand and rubbing his temple with the other. He looked up at me with a stony face as I walked through his door.
“Agent Calavera,” he nodded to me, “I know you were working on something but we’ve got a situation.”
He paused to take drag from his cigarette and I waited for him to continue.
“Four hours ago we got a call about a body washed up in Skagit Bay. We ran an ID check and it turns out it was a local priest by the name of Juan Molina.”
“That’s terrible, sir, but I’m not sure why you brought me in. I’m not homicide.”
The Captain threw me a hard look. “No, you’re not, but there’s more. During the preliminary autopsy the M.E. noted the cause of death as a gun wound to the back of the head. We didn’t find the bullet but judging by the entrance and exit wounds it looks a high velocity round. That and the estimated caliber makes it look like the murder weapon was a sniper rifle.”
I frowned at that. High powered weapons were strictly regulated by the government; no civilian should’ve been able to get their hands on one. That meant a black market purchase, which was difficult if you didn’t know the scene. Odds were whoever the killer, whoever he was, had some connection to the local criminal underground. Toss in the fact that the victim had been a priest and you’ve got a “special” crime.
“That’s why I called you in,” the Captain continued, confirming my line of thinking. “This looks like an organized killing. I want you to find out who killed this priest and why. And I want it done yesterday.”
Homicide was a crime that the police handled and was prosecuted on a local level but sometimes, for things like serial killings, the Department of Special Crimes got called in. But here’s where I got uneasy; so far the Captain had only mentioned one killing. If he was handing off the case already it either meant that there was something else going on that he wasn’t telling me or he was trying to shift the responsibility. The latter didn’t fit with what I knew of Yamashita but, when the Church is involved, nothing’s as simple as it seems.
“Look, Captain, I understand your concerns, and I’d be glad to help out in an advisory capacity, but at this time I don’t see a reason…”
He interrupted me, “There’s more. Looking over the body the M.E. found this.”
He slid an 8X10 photograph across the table. All it took was a quick glance and I understood.
“Alright,” I said, my face grim, “I’ll take the case.”
Chapter One: It Never Rains but it Pours
“It’s raining. Again.”
Brother Alfred looked across the room at me with a bemused expression.
“It’s always raining here in Seattle. You should know that by now.”
I harrumphed. “Would it be too much to ask for just a little sunshine? Why oh why couldn’t I have been assigned to la Playa del Sol?”
“You’ll just have to get used to it Manny,” Brother Alfred replied with a chuckle. “The Lord places everyone where they need to be.”
I snorted. “Believe me, Hermano, the Lord had nothing to do with this. This is all thanks to that rodent don Copal.”
With a final sigh I turned back to my papers in front of me. A mess of information demanding the urgent attention of one agent Manuel Calavera. That’s me. I’d grown up in Chicago where I ended up becoming a cop. I’d made a name for myself for cracking down on the local gangs and gotten assigned to a unit targeting organized crime. The Mob Squad they’d called us. I’d done well enough to get a promotion out of the local precinct and into the DSC. Things had been going pretty well until all of a sudden I got transferred here to Seattle. Officially it was because they needed someone with my kind experience. Really, I think it was because I managed to tick of don Copal, a mover and shaker on the Chicago scene.
“That’s what I get for throwing up on his suit at that Christmas party,” I mumbled to myself.
“What’s that, Manny?” Brother Alfred asked, looking up.
“Oh, nothing, just reminiscing about the old times,” I answered.
Brother Alfred was the monk in charge of the city library and had been one of the friendlier people I’d met when I’d arrived here . He was from somewhere in England, he’d never specified, and had joined the Church at a young age. Taken all sorts of vows, like poverty and chastity. That always amazed me, though the way my sex life was going right now you couldn’t really tell the difference between us. Maybe I should become a monk just to have an excuse. Then again, you never know. After all, hope springs eternal.
Right now we were sifting through the financial records of some big company called Schwarzschild Industries, looking for any “irregularities.” Yeah, it’s about as exciting as it sounds. But that’s the assignment I’d been given and I was still too new here to gripe about it too loudly. Our section dealt in all manner of crimes; gambling, extortion, prostitution, narcotics, you name it. Anything that the local boys might have trouble with, the DSC gets sent in. But what did I pull for my first assignment? Checking shipping records. Apparently some genius behind a desk had thought that working organized crime counted as ‘pertinent experience.’ Yeah, right. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen this many numbers before.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those thrill seeking, gung-ho morons that are looking for “a little action.” Anyone who wants to engage in gunfights, high speed chases, and other death defying activities on a regular basis has some serious issues to work out. No, I have no qualms about not risking life and limb everyday, but that doesn’t mean I like being stuck in a cramped little room poring over data tables. It reminds me of why I’d hated school. Well, that and gym class. But that’s a different matter entirely.
Truth be told, I wasn’t really sure what I was looking for. The extent of my knowledge came from the intro business class I’d taken back in school. But that’s why they’d assigned me to work with Brother Alfred, I guess. He had a better idea of what he was doing, at least I hoped so. I’d been staring at this same sheet for the last ten minutes; something about it was bothering me but I couldn’t figure out what it was. It was a summary of some of the high tech specialty items they made, mostly for the military, like black boxes and rescue beacons.
I was just about to ask Brother Alfred to come and take a look on it when I was interrupted by a call on my cell phone. Captain Yamashita wanted me to come down the station right away.
************************************************************************
It was a quick drive back from the library and fifteen minutes later I was walking into the Captain’s office. His name was Hideki Yamashita; a tough old bastard, pushing fifty and still smoking like chimney. Some people groused that he’d gotten the job as a toss to the Japanese community but I ignored them. He worked everyone hard and didn’t want to listen to any complaints, but he was fair and he sure as hell knew what he was doing.
Right now he was holding a cigarette in one hand and rubbing his temple with the other. He looked up at me with a stony face as I walked through his door.
“Agent Calavera,” he nodded to me, “I know you were working on something but we’ve got a situation.”
He paused to take drag from his cigarette and I waited for him to continue.
“Four hours ago we got a call about a body washed up in Skagit Bay. We ran an ID check and it turns out it was a local priest by the name of Juan Molina.”
“That’s terrible, sir, but I’m not sure why you brought me in. I’m not homicide.”
The Captain threw me a hard look. “No, you’re not, but there’s more. During the preliminary autopsy the M.E. noted the cause of death as a gun wound to the back of the head. We didn’t find the bullet but judging by the entrance and exit wounds it looks a high velocity round. That and the estimated caliber makes it look like the murder weapon was a sniper rifle.”
I frowned at that. High powered weapons were strictly regulated by the government; no civilian should’ve been able to get their hands on one. That meant a black market purchase, which was difficult if you didn’t know the scene. Odds were whoever the killer, whoever he was, had some connection to the local criminal underground. Toss in the fact that the victim had been a priest and you’ve got a “special” crime.
“That’s why I called you in,” the Captain continued, confirming my line of thinking. “This looks like an organized killing. I want you to find out who killed this priest and why. And I want it done yesterday.”
Homicide was a crime that the police handled and was prosecuted on a local level but sometimes, for things like serial killings, the Department of Special Crimes got called in. But here’s where I got uneasy; so far the Captain had only mentioned one killing. If he was handing off the case already it either meant that there was something else going on that he wasn’t telling me or he was trying to shift the responsibility. The latter didn’t fit with what I knew of Yamashita but, when the Church is involved, nothing’s as simple as it seems.
“Look, Captain, I understand your concerns, and I’d be glad to help out in an advisory capacity, but at this time I don’t see a reason…”
He interrupted me, “There’s more. Looking over the body the M.E. found this.”
He slid an 8X10 photograph across the table. All it took was a quick glance and I understood.
“Alright,” I said, my face grim, “I’ll take the case.”
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Oh, excellent, now Timelines comes with its own crime drama. I hope you plan on continuing this story, VILenin, I love a good mystery as it relates to canonized's epic tale.
When I first read the drafts VILenin threw at me , I knew we had something great here to share with you all . I want to really thank Lenin for the respect he's given the Timelines universe and the honour we've been awarded through this . Although this is some of Lenin's first forays into narrative , as you all can see , it is as if he's been studying this for a long time . Although I read this first chapter already , I couldn't help but read it again . The gripping nature of the narration really resounds in one's head and you can feel the dreary yet resolved voice speak out to you . Lenin's done a great job and I can't wait for him to continue .
I hope this also inspires others out there who , like Lenin , are afraid about narrative but wish to try it . I hope to also make Timelines open to anyone else who wishes to try it . Both English Patriot and Lenin have done their first narrative experiments here and I want to continue that tradition for anyone else wishing to contribute . I am truly thankful for people such as Lenin for adding these gems onto our story !
P.S. please give Lenin as many comments as you can XD ! I'd love to hear what you guys think also . And yes , even I can learn a thing or two from Lenin's great first person so far !
I hope this also inspires others out there who , like Lenin , are afraid about narrative but wish to try it . I hope to also make Timelines open to anyone else who wishes to try it . Both English Patriot and Lenin have done their first narrative experiments here and I want to continue that tradition for anyone else wishing to contribute . I am truly thankful for people such as Lenin for adding these gems onto our story !
P.S. please give Lenin as many comments as you can XD ! I'd love to hear what you guys think also . And yes , even I can learn a thing or two from Lenin's great first person so far !
Oh man, I love crime dramas, I love Film Noir-esque stories.
Yes VILenin, yes! When can we expect the next update?
Yes VILenin, yes! When can we expect the next update?
I'm finally catching up , just a little bit more... Thanks again for the interview! Great cover!
, just a little bit more... Thanks again for the interview! Great cover!
Oh, my, it's like The Maltese Falcon, only with Christianity added. I'm definitely going to be following this storyline with interest.
Haven't been here for a while, lots of reading :wacko:
Nice cover for the interview, is that your stuffed animal?
Nice cover for the interview, is that your stuffed animal?
I know some people from Seattle that say it doesn't rain very much, but compared to other places....VILenin said:
comagoosie said:
I went to Seattle, it rains as much as England..
So yes, very wet..
comagoosie said:Haven't been here for a while, lots of reading :wacko:
Nice cover for the interview, is that your stuffed animal?
Well I live next door and they always say we have very similar climate to Seattle...and yes, Vancouver's a very wet place, much wetter than London in my experience.
Avernite said:I like detectives more than historical drama....
*ducks*
Don't worry XD , I'm actually quite happy with your fandom either way . I'm just glad we're able to showcase a variety of different styles for bonuses
Lenin - by the way:
"One glance and I understood" - such hardboiled, smoked-through gumshoe-ness. Good stuff.
I like how noirisms can walk you through a story on a total minimum of details. It's one of the beauties of the genre.
"One glance and I understood" - such hardboiled, smoked-through gumshoe-ness. Good stuff.
I like how noirisms can walk you through a story on a total minimum of details. It's one of the beauties of the genre.
canonized said:And he's very good at it too
He'd have to be, considering how little we as readers know (and of course the story characters even less!)