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You're really asking me to ... spam ... (pauses for emphasizing) this thread? Be careful what you wish for 
As for the Aztec magic, it sounds nasty, but the guy wielding it is too proud of it. Those kind of tricks you should never tell your subordinates. He'll probably be betrayed by one of his own.
Or Isabella could just come in and kick his ass
As for the Aztec magic, it sounds nasty, but the guy wielding it is too proud of it. Those kind of tricks you should never tell your subordinates. He'll probably be betrayed by one of his own.
Or Isabella could just come in and kick his ass
Grubnessul said:You're really asking me to ... spam ... (pauses for emphasizing) this thread? Be careful what you wish for
As for the Aztec magic, it sounds nasty, but the guy wielding it is too proud of it. Those kind of tricks you should never tell your subordinates. He'll probably be betrayed by one of his own.
Or Isabella could just come in and kick his ass
Nah, it'd be fun if Antonio did the kicking for a change.
Eber: Looking forward to it !
Murmurandus: ROFL , oh ?
Grubnessul: Snakes and poisons and all these terrible things ! Haha perhaps
Avernite: =P I should rehabilitate his poor character !
Murmurandus: ROFL , oh ?
Grubnessul: Snakes and poisons and all these terrible things ! Haha perhaps
Avernite: =P I should rehabilitate his poor character !
After a two month forced-hiatus, canonized has been kind enough to allow me to continue my guest author piece set in the "Timelines" timeline. Hopefully somebody will have a vague recollection of what it was all about but if not, thank goodness there's a table of contents.
So, without further ado...
So, without further ado...
Purgatory in the Eleventh Hour - Chapter 4
Chapter Four: Inside the Red Room
“It’s a standard .44 calibre bullet. No prints on it, except the partials from when you picked it up.”
“You didn’t find anything?” I asked unhappily.
The lab technician shook his head. “Nope, nothing showed up on the tests. The bullet’s clean. Sorry.”
That was bad news. I’d hoped that the bullet itself would offer some clues as to its purpose but instead it had just added to the mystery growing around me. Someone was trying to tell me something but what? Was it a threat? A warning? That didn’t seem likely, I didn’t know anything dangerous. And besides, nobody outside of DSC and the Seattle PD knew about my involvement so far. There were too many questions and so far I didn’t have any answers.
“Agent Calavera,” came a voice over the intercom. “There’s a Mr. Callahan on line three for you. Agent Calavera, line three.”
Finally, I thought to myself. Patrick Callahan was a coroner with the Chicago Police I’d worked with him back during my time doing the beat. He’d been a friend and I’d spent a lot of time with him and his wife. He worked the night shifts, despite the fact that he was a remarkably good at his work; like me he’d stepped on some of the wrong toes. Patrick was too good to get fired so they shuffled him somewhere out of the way and hoped he kept quiet. I had e-mailed him all the files on Father Molina earlier today to get a second opinion; hopefully he could find something that the Seattle PD had missed.
“Patrick! Thanks for calling me back.”
“Manny!” came the loud exclamation over the phone. “I haven’t heard from you in weeks.”
“I know, I’ve been busy. Look, Pat, did you look over the stuff I sent you?”
“Aye,” he answered, more than a hint of an Irish accent in his voice. “It’s a shame it takes a dead body for you to call me but I looked at the file. And, to be honest, things don’t seem to quite add up.”
That certainly caught my attention.
“What do you mean? You mean something in the report?”
“Aye, I’ve been looking at the cause of death. Now, whoever wrote this says it was a bullet wound to the head, caused by a high velocity, large calibre round fired at long distance.”
“Are you saying the shot to the head didn’t kill him?” I asked incredulously.
“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I’ve been looking at bullet wounds for twelve years and I’m telling you that what I’m looking at doesn’t match the description that goes with it. The probable weapon’s listed as a .50 calibre sniper rifle, fired at a distance of one hundred yards or more but the wound is all wrong. For starters, a bullet that big would’ve blown his head apart, not put a hole in it.”
“So it was a smaller calibre weapon?” I asked, a sense of unease starting to creep over me.
“Aye, but I don’t think it was fired from a rifle either. You see, Manny, those bullets would go clear through leaving relatively clean entry and exit wounds. But these wounds are messy, very atypically shaped.”
“So what are you saying, Pat? What killed this man?”
“Well,” Patrick said slowly, “it’s hard to know what to make of it. But if I had to guess, Manny, I’d say it was some sort of handgun, maybe between a .40 or .45 calibre. I’d need to look at the body to get a better idea.”
My mind went reeling. If Patrick was right, and I doubted he was wrong, the report from the Medical Examiner had been off the mark, meaning we’d started this case off with some wrong assumptions. But more importantly it raised a very unpleasant question, one I was almost afraid of asking.
“What are the chances of the M.E. making these kinds of mistakes?”
At first there wasn’t an answer. Patrick seemed to sharing my line of thought.
“Well,” he started, choosing his words carefully, “you might expect some degree of confusion on one or two of specifics. But if the person has any idea what they’re doing it’s unlikely. Very unlikely.”
And with that I felt my stomach sink. If the report wasn’t a mistake it meant that someone had deliberately filled in the wrong information. Someone inside the Seattle Police.
“Thanks Patrick,” I said, my voice wooden, “I’ve got to go.”
“Listen, you take care of yourself Manny,” I could hear the worry in his voice. “I don’t want to have to tell Nancy you went and got yourself hurt now.”
We exchanged goodbyes and that was it. Then, on a hunch, I called up the city morgue.
“This is Special Agent Manuel Calavera, I want to put a hold on Father Molina’s body.”
“I’m sorry, Agent Calavera,” came the voice on the other end. “The body was cremated last night.”
“On whose orders?” I asked sharply.
“Commissioner Gordon’s,” the operator answered, taken aback.
I hung up without further ado. As I’d suspected, the body was now gone, taking with it whatever evidence of misconduct might exist. Someone was covering their tracks and they were doing it with help from the Commissioner’s office. Two, however, could play at that game. Heading back to my loaned desk I quickly typed up a request for Department intervention in Seattle and sent it off to Eva. There was something rotten here in Seattle and I was going to need help flushing it out.
Now I had to pay a visit to the Red Room.
Chapter Four: Inside the Red Room
“It’s a standard .44 calibre bullet. No prints on it, except the partials from when you picked it up.”
“You didn’t find anything?” I asked unhappily.
The lab technician shook his head. “Nope, nothing showed up on the tests. The bullet’s clean. Sorry.”
That was bad news. I’d hoped that the bullet itself would offer some clues as to its purpose but instead it had just added to the mystery growing around me. Someone was trying to tell me something but what? Was it a threat? A warning? That didn’t seem likely, I didn’t know anything dangerous. And besides, nobody outside of DSC and the Seattle PD knew about my involvement so far. There were too many questions and so far I didn’t have any answers.
“Agent Calavera,” came a voice over the intercom. “There’s a Mr. Callahan on line three for you. Agent Calavera, line three.”
Finally, I thought to myself. Patrick Callahan was a coroner with the Chicago Police I’d worked with him back during my time doing the beat. He’d been a friend and I’d spent a lot of time with him and his wife. He worked the night shifts, despite the fact that he was a remarkably good at his work; like me he’d stepped on some of the wrong toes. Patrick was too good to get fired so they shuffled him somewhere out of the way and hoped he kept quiet. I had e-mailed him all the files on Father Molina earlier today to get a second opinion; hopefully he could find something that the Seattle PD had missed.
“Patrick! Thanks for calling me back.”
“Manny!” came the loud exclamation over the phone. “I haven’t heard from you in weeks.”
“I know, I’ve been busy. Look, Pat, did you look over the stuff I sent you?”
“Aye,” he answered, more than a hint of an Irish accent in his voice. “It’s a shame it takes a dead body for you to call me but I looked at the file. And, to be honest, things don’t seem to quite add up.”
That certainly caught my attention.
“What do you mean? You mean something in the report?”
“Aye, I’ve been looking at the cause of death. Now, whoever wrote this says it was a bullet wound to the head, caused by a high velocity, large calibre round fired at long distance.”
“Are you saying the shot to the head didn’t kill him?” I asked incredulously.
“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I’ve been looking at bullet wounds for twelve years and I’m telling you that what I’m looking at doesn’t match the description that goes with it. The probable weapon’s listed as a .50 calibre sniper rifle, fired at a distance of one hundred yards or more but the wound is all wrong. For starters, a bullet that big would’ve blown his head apart, not put a hole in it.”
“So it was a smaller calibre weapon?” I asked, a sense of unease starting to creep over me.
“Aye, but I don’t think it was fired from a rifle either. You see, Manny, those bullets would go clear through leaving relatively clean entry and exit wounds. But these wounds are messy, very atypically shaped.”
“So what are you saying, Pat? What killed this man?”
“Well,” Patrick said slowly, “it’s hard to know what to make of it. But if I had to guess, Manny, I’d say it was some sort of handgun, maybe between a .40 or .45 calibre. I’d need to look at the body to get a better idea.”
My mind went reeling. If Patrick was right, and I doubted he was wrong, the report from the Medical Examiner had been off the mark, meaning we’d started this case off with some wrong assumptions. But more importantly it raised a very unpleasant question, one I was almost afraid of asking.
“What are the chances of the M.E. making these kinds of mistakes?”
At first there wasn’t an answer. Patrick seemed to sharing my line of thought.
“Well,” he started, choosing his words carefully, “you might expect some degree of confusion on one or two of specifics. But if the person has any idea what they’re doing it’s unlikely. Very unlikely.”
And with that I felt my stomach sink. If the report wasn’t a mistake it meant that someone had deliberately filled in the wrong information. Someone inside the Seattle Police.
“Thanks Patrick,” I said, my voice wooden, “I’ve got to go.”
“Listen, you take care of yourself Manny,” I could hear the worry in his voice. “I don’t want to have to tell Nancy you went and got yourself hurt now.”
We exchanged goodbyes and that was it. Then, on a hunch, I called up the city morgue.
“This is Special Agent Manuel Calavera, I want to put a hold on Father Molina’s body.”
“I’m sorry, Agent Calavera,” came the voice on the other end. “The body was cremated last night.”
“On whose orders?” I asked sharply.
“Commissioner Gordon’s,” the operator answered, taken aback.
I hung up without further ado. As I’d suspected, the body was now gone, taking with it whatever evidence of misconduct might exist. Someone was covering their tracks and they were doing it with help from the Commissioner’s office. Two, however, could play at that game. Heading back to my loaned desk I quickly typed up a request for Department intervention in Seattle and sent it off to Eva. There was something rotten here in Seattle and I was going to need help flushing it out.
Now I had to pay a visit to the Red Room.
It's so great to have you back doing the bonuses , VILenin ! Everyone was missing it ! Great chapter XD I love Rooms !
Hey, canonized! Just read about Renault and Carmen. Loved the Carmen San Diego tribute.
I also just read the chapter that introduced... Zombies? I can't wait until tomorrow when I read how this gets explained.
I also just read the chapter that introduced... Zombies? I can't wait until tomorrow when I read how this gets explained.
Ominous...
I'm surprised it wasn't classified as a simple suicide then, would've been easier.
Unless, as I suggested before, it was "targeted" at Manny..
I'm surprised it wasn't classified as a simple suicide then, would've been easier.
Unless, as I suggested before, it was "targeted" at Manny..
Interesting...
I suspect the Silent Room is behind it all, they're evil I tell you!
I suspect the Silent Room is behind it all, they're evil I tell you!
crusaderknight: Renault's one of my favourite guys XD And yes , Zombies !!
I'll let VILenin answer the comments for his bonus as per tradition XD
I'll let VILenin answer the comments for his bonus as per tradition XD
Man I love Noir so much, so, the initial tests were completely wrong, yeah that sounds pretty damned suspicious, and then the Commissioner burning the body, yeah somethings going on..
Nice work VILenin! Good to see you back!
Nice work VILenin! Good to see you back!
I love Noir as well ! It's such a great honour to have VILenin be part of the Timelines universe !
Lotus-6 said:
Was definitely a good one to be sure XD I can't wait to see the next chapter !
Alright folks , just a status report . We're going to have an update tomorrow then we'll have Instrumentality released for March and then another update sometime in the weekend or monday so please look forward to that !
Can't wait... is it just me everyone, or is this man a genius with the English language?
