as written by Ronin and Tiko
“Now then, Baron,” Archard lay the folder down and opened to several well-structured case files, “I’m afraid that much of what I have to ask you today, you’ve probably already heard. The inquisition is opening its own investigation into recent cases that will run parallel to the police’s.” He sifted through the files and selected a photograph of Sophia Richard. “As such, we need our own statements, interviews and personal testimonies. Protocol.” He flipped the photograph around and presented it to Baron.
“You are familiar with that girl?”
“I am,” Baron answered simply.
“This girl was a missing person not a month ago. You rescued this girl?”
“I was in prison as I recall, I don’t think I was rescuing anyone,” Baron answered dryly.
Archard relented an amused smile. “Fair enough, Baron. Your … how do you say… friends? They rescued the girl?”
"You would have to ask them," Baron answered.
The next came immediately after Baron finished. “Was this girl living at your home prior to her disappearance?”
"She and her mother are staying at my place, yes," Baron answered.
“Why?” Archard’s tone, as always, was reserved and bland, devoid of any trace of accusation or warmth.
"I'm not sure that's any of your business," Baron replied. There was no animosity in his own tone, but neither did he seem inclined to offer much more of an explanation.
“The girl disappeared while the police were searching your home, correct?”
“Yes. Maybe they scared her off. That can happen when they kick in peoples doors.”
“Why did they kick in your door, Baron? What was the premise of their search?”
"Why don't you ask them that," Baron asked. “While you’re at it, ask them why they tore up my bar too.”
“They weren’t searching your house because of a girl they found in your cellar? A miss…” He checked his notes. “...Re’Altarm?”
"Could be."
“Did you have this girl in your cellar?”
"She was here, yes."
Archard looked up from his files, his head tilted slightly. “Was she there of her own free will?”
"I don't kidnap people, if that's what you're asking," Baron answered.
“That is not what I was asking,” Archard replied coolly, “I asked if she was in your cellar of her own free will. Did she choose to be there?”
"The door was open, wasn't it?" Baron replied. Of course, with the woman's injuries it was unlikely she could have walked out even if she had wanted to. "If you want to go digging for answers, why don't you hit the Phantom Quarter, where we found her. Some psychopath is attacking people in the streets, but the police are too busy trying to cover their asses for losing the girl after they took her."
"You found her in the state she was in?" he asked, "you rescued her? Brought her back to your bar to help her?"
And there was the crux of the issue. Baron might claim they found her, but given that infecting people with lycanthropy was highly illegal... he had ample motive to lie as well.
"Something like that," Baron agreed.
"That's very noble of you," he nodded, "though why did you not take her to a hospital?"
Baron snorted at that one. "Maybe you haven't seen the news lately. When's the last time there was a hospital around here that is remotely equipped to handle our kind. They certainly did a bangup job when they took her."
"Re'Altarm shifted into a werewolf en-route to the hospital, crashed the ambulance and injured the medics. Did you know this?"
"The police informed me," Baron answered.
There was some speculation that Baron's pack was responsible for the accident, as witnesses put a second wolf on the scene. Baron himself was already in police custody at the time though.
"You knew that Re'Altarm was a Lycan when you took her in from the streets to help her, correct?"
"Her injuries and fever were consistent with a werewolf attack,” Baron agreed.
"In your opinion, then, would you speculate that this was her first transformation?"
"Why do you think we had her here?" Baron asked with a scowl. "She was secure, and safe, until the police took her out and let her loose into traffic."
"Did you inform the police of your deduction when they took her? That she was a newly-changed Lycan and could transform at any moment?"
"As I recall, the police were too busy man-handling my patrons, and planting murder weapons to give a right fuck about anything we had to say," Baron pointed out.
“And the police were in your bar in the first place because of a murder that took place in the alleyway beside your establishment, correct?”
"That's correct," Baron answered.
It would seem Archard was going to be a while and Baron finally picked the bottle of whiskey up from the counter and took a quaff of it straight from the bottle before heading around the bar to one of the tables so he could sit down. Once seated under a dingy window he set the bottle down and propped one of his boots up against an adjacent chair before fishing his cigarettes out of his pocket. Once he had one lit up he took a drag of it before offering the box out to Archard, if he wanted to take one.
“Oh, thank you,” Archard nodded, accepting the cigarette. The inquisitor had been standing up to that point as well, and he assumed a seat at one of the stools. The Archon thumbed the cigarette into his mouth and rummaged in his jacket for a lighter.
“This is a rather unfortunate series of events, isn’t it?” the barest trace of humor marked his voice, “a murder happens outside your bar, which leads the police inside where they find the girl, which prompts them to search your house where they lose a different girl…” He smiled. “I cannot help but sympathize with you. You’ve had a spell of atrocious luck, it would seem.”
"I don't want sympathy, I want to know what it's going to take to keep you and the police out of my bar. It's bad for business," Baron remarked.
Archard nodded, producing a thin silver lighter and flaming the end of his cigarette.
"All that we require is your full cooperation and honesty in this investigation," he replied, smoke steaming out of his mouth, "I'm sure next month this will all be behind you."
He looked back down at his folder, flipping one of the pages. "Did you know the man that was killed in the alleyway just outside this bar?"
“Personally, no. He was a regular here though,” Baron answered.
"In your opinion, do you think the man's wounds are reflective of a werewolf attack?" Archard made a motion to his trachea. "The throat ... That would have required a great deal of strength, wouldn't it?"
“It didn’t look like a wolf bite, no.”
"What did it look like?" Archard puffed, "I'm sure the mortician will have his own opinion, but... Well..." Archard shrugged. "Ce'esti sol viu." The phrase would make sense to Baron: "He is just a man", but would sound slightly awkward - as if he'd put one too many articles into it. It also wouldn't sound familiar - it was not a saying that was used in Lutetian culture.
"I wouldn't mind hearing an opinion from someone who knows what they're talking about."
"I didn't go to medical school, but it looked to me like he had his throat ripped out," Baron answered bluntly. He didn't much care for Archard's implication.
"Did this gentleman always pay for his drinks?" he continued without missing a beat. "Didn't keep a tab? Was he frequently drunk or unruly while he was a patron here?"
"You would need to ask Jacques, he manages the bar," Baron replied.
Archard looked up from his notes. "You remembered he was a regular, no? Surely you can recall if he was the troublesome sort or not. Rude individuals are not easily forgotten." He retrieved a nearby ashtray and tapped his cigarette twice. He didn't seem intent on wringing an answer.
"It seems you have a bit of a record, Baron. Assault, battery, property damage... Obstruction of justice ..." Dark eyes flitting back up to the lycans. "That last one landed you a few years in jail, didn't it?”
“What of it?” Baron asked.
"You seem to have a poor appreciation for the law." He dragged deep of his cigarette, the corners of his mouth upturning slightly. "Please, I don't say that in contempt ... but you must understand. From my shoes, I have an individual with an extensive record caught up in, not one, but three different cases, all of which he claims to have nothing to do with." He blew out a final puff of smoke before stubbing the cigarette in the ash tray. "How do you think that would look from the perspective of a servant of the law, Baron?"
"You mistake me as someone who cares what it looks like," Baron answered. "So the question is, are you charging me with something?"
Well, something more than the police were already charging him with. His trial was next week.
"Nothing," Archard replied, "but you should know that I've been assigned to the cases in this area, and that we will likely cross paths again as the investigation develops."
He rose to his feet and straightened his cuffs. "Like it or not, Baron, the law is a part of Lutetia. And so long as you claim citizenship in this city, the law is a part of you. You cannot fight it. It will only end badly for your and your family." He closed the folder and returned it to his jacket. "Nonetheless, I thank you for meeting with me today, for the use of your bar during the questioning and for the cigarette." He offered his hand. "I hope this turns out well for you, Baron. I suppose we will see."
Baron offered a light snort before stubbing his cigarette out. “You can show yourself out,” Baron said as he picked up the bottle of whiskey at hand and stood up to go return it beneath the bar.
Up till this point, Archard had relented only a handful of smirks and the amused roots of smiles. Now he grinned wide and true.
"Etiquette..." he mused as Baron walked past him, collecting his gloves from his pocket, "...it's all a man asks for. Rob him blind. Make love to his wife. Put poison in his wine." He snapped them over his wrists one by one. "But shake his hand afterwards. It's the least you can do."
He walked toward the door. "Good day, Mr. Guiscard. Stay in town." The inquisitor swung on his heels before the entrance and bowed politely. "And may her grace be upon you."
He turned and left.
