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Aberrant: Stargate Universe - Chasing Ghosts


z028 Riley

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(Investigative Prodigy On)

Steve wrote down Mike's business license number as well as his tax id and other information. This might, but probably wouldn't, be useful keys to use on another online search.

Then he tried to look up the deed record for Mike's home, who had purchased it, whether they still owned it. They might have something of Mike's that Kyria could claim and feel some connection to the dead-Mike-of-the-past.

As he worked he asked the nice lady who was helping them, "This man here who signed here. The Justice of the Peace. Is he still alive?"

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Mable, the records clerk, took a closer look at the paper, "Oh that was old John, he was a great guy, I'm afraid he died a couple years ago, but his son is still here. Johnny Junior is a County Judge, his court room is right here in the building. But I don't know if he's in session today."

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"Would you mind checking? If he isn't, would he be in tomorrow or is there some way we could contact him today?" She looked the information over, noting mostly names and addresses; in particular she was looking to see if a burial site was listed.

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The body had been cremated since there was no next of kin to turn over the burial and thus expenses to. On the bright side Mable came back after only a minute with a bit smile on her face. "He is isn't in session today but he is in his office if you'd like to try seeing him."

Moving upstairs to the Judge's office only took a couple minutes but then the trio was left waiting for half a hour before Johnny Junior emerged into the outer office. He looked at the three surprised then he remembered, "Oh yes, Mable said I had visitors, I apologize, I nearly forgot you were here. I've got a case that is taking up far too much of my attention right now." Gesturing to the office door, "Please, come in and have a seat."

Once everyone had gotten comfortable he asked, "So what can I do for you?"

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"Thank you sir," Caine began as he layed out their case before them and him. It was a case written more in the blood of the New People and less in the stack of information they had been able to compile. Damien's voice commanded respect in a very compelling manner and his words held out the power to bring forth the truth.

"Judge Junior, so you see, we need help in a case from back in your fathers tenure - the 1950's and only you can really open up the floodgates of information that have grown up around this case. Certainly, you can help us."

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Despite being called Junior the judge was a mature man getting up in years and had the authority of wielding the power of life and death over people on a daily basis. As Caine spoke he did seem to soften to the three of you. Caine's manner had enough authority of it's own and respect that the Judge found himself nodding unconsciously in agreement.

"Actually I do remember that case. My father talked about it when I was a young man. It was unusual in that Dr. Donnighal was a well respected man. Unfortunately that was the 1950s and being gay back in those days was not a popular thing in the south. My father never knew who murdered the doctor since the police chose to cover it up, but there was no doubt it was murder. He figured it was a bunch of young hot heads. Thing is, the police chief actively chose to bury the case. His son was one of the young men my father suspected." The judge had a sour look on his face at the mention of the old police chief and his son.

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"If the Police Chief's son is still alive, he is someone we would want to talk to. Do you have his address, or could your secretary provide it please," Caine said courteously. He knew he would get much farther with respect than arrogance. In this place, this man was a power in his own right.

"Also, did your father keep any records from that time - something we might be able to go through to gleam some useful information? That could be real useful in our search."

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*When you have a hammer, everything looks like a nail.*

Steve was tempted to 'ask' mentally for help, just a nudge... but the man was a judge, he seemed to be cooperating, and he was under the direct observation of Steve's fellow specialists.

All of this screamed 'bad timing'. Steve decided to wait, watch, and bide his time and only nodded in agreement with his fellows authority. That was an old marketing/con-man trick. Get everyone in the room to agree to something and the mark was likely to follow the crowd.

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"Well, I can't rightly say if he's still alive or not, I believe he moved away back in the 60s. Name was Harold Green. Course, even if I knew where he was I don't know that it would be right for me to say more."

((Kyria gets: Bastard got cross ways with another man over that man's wife and police chief's son or not he high tailed it outta here. Good riddance too. Illinois somewhere according to old Martha. I'm sure he was guilty though, the way daddy talked, I'm sure he was too, but you just didn't side with a minority against your own kind back in those days, specially not a dead one. Wouldn't have done anyone any good anyway.))

"So what are you folks investigating such an old case for?"

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"Oh, the man Donnighal had ties to the military back then and it was recently discovered that his death was not thuroughly investigated. We need to run down all leads and see this thing through. You understand how such things can be. Crossing every T, dotting every I."

"Now, what happened to the Old Police Chief's house? Is there any chance there is anything of his still there? Maybe a letter with an old Post Mark? Anything that might help us with our interviews would be helpful."

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"Well, ol' chief Green's house is still there but I doubt you'll find anything there. After he passed the house was sold. I assume that if his son is still alive he would have any of the personal belongings, but as I recall he wasn't there at the funeral so chances are just as good that the new owners cleaned house and threw it all out or sold it."

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Steve looked at Kyria and noticed she was looking intensely at the Judge. Steve thought, *Concentrating... an unethical man would suspect that she's reading his mind without permission. Good to know she's willing to do this without an invite.*

*So... assume she's going to find out what rumor said about who killed the minority. Or what group of people normally killed the minorities back in the day. Are we going to go to some retirement home and wack someone? Not sure I agree with that, I don't like us getting in the habit of that.*

*Or maybe she'll just be content knowing. Or maybe she'll make whoever did it confess, or they'll be long dead.* confused

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"We would like to intern them at Federal expense," Caine adds. "Thank you for all your help. We should be in town no more than three days and most likely less. It seems this murder will go unsolved for now unless some more leads come up."

Damien stands up and extends his hand.

"If you recall anything else," he hands over a card as well, "don't hesitate to give me a call. Any clue, no matter how small, would be appreciated.

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Judge Junior stood and shook everyone's hands. "Hope I've been of some help. It was a damn shame what happened to Dr. Donnighal, no excuse for prejudice like that."

The trio gathered out in the hall to discuss what to do next.

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Once out in the hall Kyria spoke softly to her two cohorts. "There's a woman named Martha, the old housekeeper for the former Police Chief I think, who knew at least a general location for the boy. I'm not sure where she is now, but if I give you the image that I saw of her, do you think you could track her electronically?" The last part was directed at Steve.

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Steve said, "Maybe" and thought about it for a moment.

*Pictures aren't going be really helpful with an electronic search. But... employment records might work. No, just find out her age, then see how many Marthas there were in this town at that time of that age. Then assume she lived in the town at that time less than an hour away.*

*That might narrow it down enough where pictures could single someone out, and after we have it down to one person I can track them with the data I'll already have by that point.*

*Easy. Or if the Chief paid social security on her, which he probably didn't, that's even better.*

Steve added, "Probably."

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"Steve, he might even have paid for her on the books. They had a level of arrogance back on those days about keeping housestaff on the city payroll."

"Beyond that, we have an approximate age - 70+, but she could be of either race. Not many white women did domestic work in the South. Again, it was a product of the times."

He pauses for a few seconds,

"Sorry I can't be more help than that. Maybe a 25 minute drive from town, if she stayed with family. Cars were slower back then and you didn't want to pick up your help if you could help it ... and the Police Chief could help it. Maybe start looking in the old 'wrong side of the tracks' section of Jackson - propperty records and the like.

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Steve said, "Oh, very good thought. Social Security records will have all this. Seventy year old females named Martha on the payroll for the city back then. Credit reports will have history of where they lived."

Steve turned to Kyria, "If you have a mental image then you know if she was white or black?"

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"She was black, and she collects social security payments." The upward tilt at the end of her statement showed her unfamiliarity with that system. "She lives in a low rent apartment, but she never told him the name while they were speaking." She relayed the bit of conversation she'd 'heard' to both of them as she spoke, just to make sure she hadn't left any details out.

Click to reveal..
Old Martha was house keeper for the former Police chief for nearly 30 years. Junior had run into her one day at the grocery store and they'd had a short chat about old times and she had speculated on where he had gone. In her polite way she had said some unpleasant things about the son and how he hadn't seen fit to attend his own fathers funeral. She did complain that it was hard to live on Social Security since she was too old to get work now. She is living in an some rather low rent apartments now. Junior thinks it's a shame that a good colored woman like that should be spending her final years in some place that bad.

((I can make rolls, but from what chat/pm's we've had, I'd assume that this is neither critical enough to warrent a roll and that the two guys wouldn't be actively resisting telepathic contact from Kyria. Lemme know if I need to roll, though.))

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Steve snorted in amusement and said, "Black, on Social Security, lives in a low rent apartment, and uses that grocery store, meaning it's probably within a 20 mile radius."

"Now we're moving from, 'it might be possible', to 'very easy'. Let's find some computer terminals and we'll see what we can see. I assume they have internet somewhere around here."

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"We can use mine in the car - wireless connection and all that. If we knew the location of the grocery store, we could probably get the location within two miles. After all, she is taking the bus, or walking. Walking in this heat is brutal on an old woman."

When they got down to the car, Caine handed his requisitioned laptop over. He was sure Steve wouldn't have any problem.

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Steve got to work. It was easy, he'd already set up back doors on several of the systems he needed to use on other occasions.

Click to reveal..
Mental Pro: Investigation (this lasts for the scene, +succ dice on all things investigative)

6d10.hits(7) [3,8,10,8,8,6] = (4)

http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2114206/

Int + Computer + Sux from Prodigy (mega first)

13d10.hits(7) [7,7,4,3,9,2,10,5,7,2,6,7,2] = 7 Sux

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Martha Mae Flannigan 345-57-5912 Age 76. Social Security and Medicare recipient.

Residence: 5133 North Westbrook Dr. Apt 125.

Police record: Arrested 1962 during racial protest event.

Education: 1st - 3rd grade Samson Elementary.

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Caine cut on the Navigation system and punched in the address. He took off after their latest stepping stone to the final answer to what happened to Kyria's father.

"Okay now. She's old and may be pretty infirmed, so let's be careful around her. The less stress we put on her, the happier we will all be."

"Kyria, be gentle and I'll try to keep it down a notch. This woman has done nothing to us and has suffered much in her life. As he arrest record records, she went through the racial unrest that wracked much of the country during the mid-half of this century. I hope she will talk to us."

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Less than ten minutes later they were at the address. It was a sadder, seedier part of town. The building was a tenement, it's paint peeling and untreated wood exposed. The roof's tarsheet shingles had come loose in some places and hung over the gutters. The gutters themselves had things growing in them.

This place needed some attention. Four cooling units went around the building and two of them were humming. The other may well have been broken, which in this heat made such an apartment a virtual oven.

The three Speicialists came up to the screen door that barely hung on to its hinges. The door itself was open. Caine led the way in. They had a letter number for the apartement and from the number of apartments per floor, they had to be on the second floor.

The steps creaked and moaned as the three went up. Some of the stairs were sodden, while others had all thier nails loose and hung on because they were warped form years of use. At the door at the end of the threadbare carpeted floor, Caine knocked. There was no initial response.

"Ma'am," Damien said through the door, "I am Major Damien Caine, US Air Force. I would like to talk to you about your former employer, the Police Chief. May we have a few moments of your time?"

There was movement from inside.

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After a moment a weak voice called out, "Come in." The elderly woman was sitting in a recliner in front of an old 19inch TV that was barely new enough to have a remote control. All the windows in the apartment were open and a box fan sat on the window seal blowing warm air in from outside, but at least the air was fresh and the airflow kept the temperature down in the high 70s. It was still pretty warm for October, but that's the way it was on the Gulf Coast. Sometimes the heat didn't completely let go until late October or even November. There wasn't a single thing in the apartment that was new or hadn't seen much better days, but despite that, the house was immaculately clean. The one thing that was in jarring contrast to the dinginess of the furniture were the white lace doilies on the arms of the chairs and the couch.

Perhaps the most surprising thing of all had to be the lack of reaction from the woman. Three of the most beautiful white people on the planet walked into her apartment and she didn't bat an eye at the oddness. "Afternoon. Can I offer ya'll some sweet tea? I just made a batch this morning." After a moment it was apparent why, old Martha was at least half blind.

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"Why thank you Mrs. Flannigan. Three glasses of tea would be wonderful."

He motioned the team into the various seats.

"These are my associates, Specialists Thea and <Courier>. This is an immaculate home you keep - very nice. Can I be of assistance to you getting all these drinks?"

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Steve Courier said in his most winning voice, "Please, call me Steve."

Steve looked around and wasn't quite sure what to make of the situation they'd painted themselves into. The woman was obviously making the best of her end days. On one level this was sad and pathetic, but on another there was an element of pride to all this. Life had ground her down in some ways but not in others.

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Kyria, on the other hand, seemed neither bothered by the woman's age or infirmity and settled immediately into business after accepting her glass of tea. "Mrs. Flannigan, we came here to ask you if you know where we could find the former police cheif's son. Do you know where he is or where we could start in looking for him?"

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"No," she answered mostly truthfully. "We just need to ask him some questions about an investigation we're pursuing. If you're concerned about getting him arrested, please rest assured that that is not at all our intention."

Having turned the elderly woman's mind to the boy (well, probably well into middle aged man at this point), Kyria gently probed into the other woman's memories for what she needed.

Click to reveal.. (TP roll)
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"Man, we are looking into something that his father was involved with and his name has come up in the investigation. Maybe some kind of communication came up between him and his father and he could shed some light on the issue in question."

"I apologize for being vague," Damien says, leaning forward, "but the underlying matter is ... sensitive. Can you help us, please."

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Hope that racist bastard burns. He deserves it for all those times he was rude to me and for all the hateful things he done over the years. Started out such a nice boy to end up all full of hate like that.

Aloud she says, "Bloomington I believe. I don't remember an address, but I do remember seeing an envelope addressed to him from his father once in Bloomington, Illinois."

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"Ma'am, do you know how old he would be now? Did he have any medical conditions? Did he have a family? Any of this will help us find him. As I said, we really, really want to talk to him about this case."

He takes a drink of the tea,

"Ma'am, this is fine tea. Thank you. I apologize for not being more forthcoming about the nature of our investigation, but sometimes the government needs to keep things private, less innocent people become ... compromised."

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