~Simon's Interview~
Simon, despite the circles under his eyes, looked quite proper. His suit was perfectly tailored to his form, and for once, he even wore the outer jacket with his tie also perfectly in place. Dark hair framed his angular face, his thin lips staying in a perfectly neutral scowl as he prepared his bag for the day's endeavors. There was one thing he had to his advantage--the town of Flint was small, small enough that the interviews could potentially be finished in the course of one day when his actual investigations--and the hunt--could finally begin.*
Glancing down at the most recent copy of the census he saw that the first on the list were a Mr. and Mrs. Somethingorother...erm...Adams.*How unique!*he thought to himself with some sense of sarcasm. Seeing no sense in lingering, he set out at precisely eight o' clock and before he knew it he was knocking at the door under a sign that read "Barber" in big, bold, black print.
Olivia was sweeping up the hair from a long day's work. Not much work had actually been done, however, as they'd only had two customers today. The weather outside was gloomy, and nobody liked the nape of their neck freshly shaved on days like this. So she took her time sweeping up the little bits, and even when they were all swept up, she swept some more. Her husband, Gerald, called from upstairs.*"'Liv, someone's knocking on the door!"*
Surely, someone was. She wasn't quite sure how Gerald always knew, but she couldn't hear a damned thing. She cracked open the door, a crease in her eyebrow from scowling. Yet in contrast, smile lines widened as she greeted the man at her door.*"Yes, can I help you?"*She tried to seem friendly in hopes of gaining a new customer.
Simon kept himself from looking at the woman from head to toe instead focusing on the woman's eyes--perhaps too intently. He cleared his throat in a somewhat dramatic gesture, straightening his tie and making a show of lifting the clipboard up to read from it,"Mrs. Adams, ehm...forgive me, but is there a man on the premises I may speak to?"
"Yeah, alright."*She said, hand on her hip. Her front was covered in an apron, but you could still see folds in the fabric where her stomach and breasts would be. She wasn't a classy lady, but she was at least married.*"GERALD, MAN AT THE DOOR-"*She yelled over her shoulder before walking off to the shop. She began sweeping again, hoping that she'd be able to at least overhear the conversation. After all, the shop was right next to the door. The chairs were aligned vertically from the window which was to Simon's left.*
In a matter of moments, a cascade of sounds erupted from upstairs. First, the creaking of floorboards, groaning and spitting, and then the clacking of a cane as the hobbled man walked down the stairs. He wasn't much older than Olivia, but he was worn and it was obvious. He had a large mole on his nose, which hung over his lip. He seemed to have a busted knee, only applying pressure to his right one. When he got to the door, he stopped only for a moment to catch his breath.*"What can I do you for? A cut and shave?"*He squinted, trying to make out the man's face.
Simon winced as the woman bellowed to her husband and winced again with the groaning from above and yet again as the clacking of the cane was heard. Straightening back up again and clearing his throat shaking his head, steady green eyes upon the man,*"No sir. I'm here on a matter of much different business. You see, I am an investigator and as of last night, I'm on the job of a murder that happened here in Flint. Now, to begin, I'd like to ask, do you have any lodgers with you that I might interrogate all at the same time?"
Gerald leaned in, listening to the peculiar man's concerns.*"Lodgers? You askin' for William?"*He shook his head, skin under his neck flapping as he did so.*"Why that boy's not capable of murder. He's as sweet as can be."*He huffed, looking over the man. Olivia heard her boy's name and hurried over to the door, nearly pushing Gerald out of the way.*
"What do you have to say about William?"*She looked back up the stairs, hoping that the boy had either left early to finish his business affairs, or that he was still sleeping - even after all of this ruckus.
Simon kept his impeccable posture, looking back down at the clipboard as if it had any kind of merit whatsoever in an attempt to not cringe at the couple and looked back at Gerald,*"I'm not implicating him just as I'm not implicating you, sir. I'm merely trying to collect information. Interviewing all the members of a household at once is the most efficient method and I have many...many*households to visit before the sun sets this evening. Now if you would please call him down..."
Gerald shoved Olivia back from her hovering position, so he could speak man to man with the newcomer.*"What makes you want to interview us? We're just homely people, trying to live our lives peacefully. Why don't you-"*
"WILLIAM!"*Olivia belted over Gerald's voice, the same way she had called her husband down. Gerald growled, looking over his shoulder towards the stairs. When nobody responded, Olivia continued.*"Will?"*She decided to go up the stairs towards the rickety ladder into the attic. Gerald sighed, inviting the man inside now.*
"Name's Gerald, if you haven't figured that out. You are?"*He squinted again, trying to decipher any lies from truth.*
When Olivia made it up to the attic, a frantic shuffling was heard right after. She bounded down the ladder, then the stairs, tapping Gerald's shoulder to whisper in his ear.*"Will's not home."
"I'm interviewing everyone--"*Simon interjected before the man could take offense and before cringing when his wife's luminous voice again filled the cavity of the barber's shop. His eyes unwillingly went to the ceiling as if waiting for footsteps that only came when the wife Her Majesty herself went up."Not home?*Is this normal, or perhaps he is away at business? I am interviewing business owners as well, perhaps I will see him there..."
He went inside all too willingly finding it deprecatingly awkward to be standing outside of their door for others to witness the chaos that he was now subject to (perhaps subject*of) now.*"My name is Wegg. Ehm...Simon*Wegg."
"Good to meet you, eh, formally, Mr. Wegg."*He extended a hand that showed heavy signs of arthritis. This was from years of holding scissors and blades.*"Name's Gerald Blanchett. Wife's Olivia."*She closed the door behind Simon, a worried look in her eyes.*
"Yes, yes. He most likely went back to that old widow's house to finish up business with her. That's probably it."*She had no ability to hide her anxiety. It was all too strange. After all, Will had mentioned breakfast the night before. It wasn't like him to leave without mention.
Simon took the hand, gently, more gently than he had done anything in his entire life fearing that even a touch would snap the man's finger in half,*"It is a pleasure meeting you. Both. The old widow's house? Well, I shall be getting there soon enough."His plans to go through the town may have just been stinted. Having gained some information from the chief of police in the night prior, he was able to piece together that the last murder of this nature hadn't happened in Flint for the past decade, perhaps longer. If a vampire was lingering, they would have had the aged look of a very old person--or perhaps a vampire who hadn't been feeding. Regardless, his trip through the town could very well be stinted with an expedited trip to the widow's, but this he kept internal.*
Externally, he struggled to smile in response to Mrs. Blachett's anxieties,*"Yes, that must be it. I will visit her presently after I finish here, if only to ease your mind."After moving in from the door with it firmly shut behind him, he continued to stand awkwardly with his rigidly straight back, knees locked, one hand's fingers curled about a pen and the other holding the clipboard still more awkwardly in front of him. He cleared his throat.*
"With that out of the way, shall I commence the interview?"
"Please do, Mr. Wegg."*Gerald led the man to the right, where the modest living room was. Olivia hurried to the kitchen to make tea for her guest. At least he was kind enough to make his way up the large hill that barricaded Ms. Ward's home. No wonder she wanted another property, perhaps one closer to town? Neither of the Blanchett had talked to William about the widow's choice.*
"Please, sit."*Gerald motioned to a chair nearest the door. It was worn and perhaps not so comfortable. But Mrs. Blanchett spent most of her free time in this chair sewing, knitting and reading.
Mr. Wegg did exactly as he was invited, sitting stiffly on the stiff chair and swallowed,"Very well. The first question might very well make me the unfortunate bearer of bad news, but I must proceed regardless. Tell me, are you familiar with Mr. and Mrs. Thomas?"
Gerald leaned back in his own chair, groaning.*"Yes, of course. Dashing young couple if I do say so myself."*Olivia was busy in the kitchen, the sounds of pots and pans clanging together once in a while coated the house with background noise.
"Then it pains me,"*Simon began, pausing long enough that he might think about what next to say,*"It pains me to say that last night's murder victim was none other than Mrs. Thomas. Given her husband's status as police chief he is too involved so they hired a private investigator--myself. Now, I have reasons to believe that the culprit has one or several specific characteristics generally erm...assigned*to killers of this breed."*He found that saying the word*vampire*was generally received by ill company and chose to veer away from it.*"Tell me, do you know of any that might be particularly...secluded from the rest of the village? Perhaps on the outskirts, or maybe only seen at night?"
The sound of the kettle whistling was welcome to Mr. Blanchett. He showed a wrinkled smile as Olivia brought him a steaming cup. She hurried back to the kitchen and brought out a hot cup to Mr. Wegg as well.*"Well, I've never seen the old Ms. Ward personally, only heard stories."*Olivia chimed in before retrieving her cup and placing the remaining teapot on the table in front of the three.*
"Yes, I've heard outrageous rumors about that poor hag."*Gerald sighed, disappointed in the population's attachments to rumors.*"Its too bad about Mrs. Thomas."*He shook his head.*
"Such a lovely young girl. Who would do such a thing!"*Olivia too shook her head, sipping her tea with a solemn grimace.
"Thank you, Mrs. Blanchett, you are too kind,"*Simon murmured taking hold of the cup and saucer carefully bringing it down to his lap after having set aside the clipboard he was so eager to hold just moments ago.
"Rumours are never pleasant things to partake in, I know. But hearing these rumours may help with my investigations. Can you bear to part with some of the 'outrageous stories' you may have heard? Of course, this is only to gauge the common reputation of the woman within the town..."
Olivia looked over at her husband, as if for permission to continue. She cleared her throat.*"Well, I've heard things as far fetched as Ms. Ward being a witch or a vampire."She chuckled.*"I fear she's just got no one to take care of her. Who knows if she's even still living... She's alone after all."*Gerald nodded.*
"If she were a witch, we'd see her broomsticks. We'd hear her cackling. We'd have a burning in this town, that's for sure."*Gerald mentioned passionately. While he didn't necessarily believe in the creatures,*if*they existed, he wouldn't be one to keep them around for very long.
Simon offered his own half-hearted chuckle,*"Well all of that sounds preposterous, just because she is living alone. Do you know of anyone that has or had contact with her recently?"
"Just-"*Gerald looked down at Olivia and they gulped simultaneously.*"William."*They said together, looking back at Mr. Wegg.
Simon betrayed no emotion, instead tilting back the tea cup emptying it of it's contents and setting it back down on the saucer rising to his feet and turning to set it back down claiming the clipboard to its rightful place.*"Well then. Thank you for your time and cooperation Mr. and Mrs. Blanchett. I believe I have all of the information I need. With that, can you give me the road to get to Ms. Ward's abode?"
"Yes, its past the graveyard down Moss Road."*Gerald leaned towards the window point towards a path shooting off towards a hill.*"Her house is the last stop down the road."*He felt a shiver, and so did Olivia.
Simon bowed deeply to the couple and then, clipboard in hand, moved to the exit and promptly left--eyes set for the cemetery and later Moss Road.
As Simon walked, he scribbled notes from the earlier conversation. The list of suspects did just rise to one: Ms. Ward. However, his new target would not be the wrinkled old raisin, but a young lady. That is, provided this Ms. Ward could actually be the vampire. She'd try to pose as a granddaughter, or perhaps some other distant relation--making it less suspicious. But then, there was the trouble of the deceased being a woman. Typically, vampiric deaths were of the sex that the vampire would be most attracted to, but, he'd seen vampires attack the same sex before. It was an anomaly, but not unheard of.
On his clipboard, he jot down a few words: Ms. Ward. Past cemetery. Moss Road.
Simple enough. His walk was quick, the air was brisk, and a cloud came from his lips as he breathed making his way up Moss Road, whistling as he went.
~Our Dear Emily & Co.~
Emily gasped as Rosamund tightened the corset. The final stages for her going out dress were being applied, and Emily was actually quite excited to be getting out for the day. She'd convinced Rosamund to stop her work if only for a few hours to allow for a day on the town. A carriage sat outside ready to take the ladies to town, where Emily would be looking to buy a congratulatory gift for William on another successful sale.
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