We are playing Yuigaron's Sworn by Ghostlight tri-fold game available on his itch site. Check out Session Zero for more on the character, Detective Tiberius R. Remus, the city of Mónaþstone, and the Ebon Wood Effigy case.
TABLE OF CONTENTS:
Tiberius R. Remus, Occult Detective
Personal Case Notes
2 January, 1935 GLR
1005
103 Smoke Street, Downtown Mónaþstone
Ebenezer Cooley, a burly looking chap with fierce eyes and a hard set jaw, greeted me on the cracked front stoop of the rundown flat building at 103 Smoke Street. The man seemed like he wanted to run, his left leg trembled as if the earth itself was quaking, and he kept looking over his shoulder. Cooley’s arms were as thick as tree trunks, and he cut an imposing figure with them crossed over his broad chest.
"Mr. Cooley?" I asked, offering my hand.
"You the cop?" Cooley's voice was clipped and guttural.
"Detective Tiberius Remus. I presume the Bureau clerk contacted you?"
"We don't like your kind ‘round here cop. Best you get in and get out."
"Is that a threat Mr. Cooley?"
"Only a warning."
"Before I go, what can you tell me about Miss Adelaide Montegomery?"
Ask the Oracle
The man's eyes went wide with surprise, then narrowed in suspicion or fear. His shaking leg quaked harder and faster. I knew a nervous person when I saw one, and this man was especially nervous. It might mean nothing, I told myself. He might simply be nervous around the authorities. I made a mental note to run a background check on Ebenezer Cooley back at the station.
"Now Mr. Cooley, you are aware that not answering my questions could be construed as obstruction, yes?"
The fear returned to the man's eyes and he stammered out a hurried answer. "We dated. Been over a year since we stopped. Look mister, I didn't kill her."
"I never suggested you did, Mr. Cooley. Don't go too far, I may have more questions."
Cooley nodded and stepped aside, letting me climb the steps and enter the building. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of mold and stale air. The temperature was several degrees warmer than could be considered comfortable, and I shrugged out of my overcoat.
I left the old coat hanging over the banister of the rickety wooden stairs leading to the second floor and moved deeper into the first floor corridor. I counted eight doors, four on each side of the dim hallway, with the even numbered doors on the left. I found that odd, but paid little attention. Apartment 4's door was open.
Action
I looked around the door, and the threshold, but found nothing more than the standard debris and dust expected of old buildings. Pushing the door all the way open, movement caught my eye and I dashed into the one room flat.
Standing halfway concealed behind a narrow bookcase and holding a metal baseball bat was a tall young woman with long black hair and pale skin.
"Come out young lady," I demanded.
"Who are you?" the woman asked, her voice trembling.
"Detective Tiberius Remus with the Mónaþstone Bureau of Investigation." I held up my badge in one hand and held the other up placatingly. "Please come out. I have some questions for you."
Action Result
Ask the Oracle
The woman lowered the bat slowly and stepped out from behind the bookcase. "What do you want?"
"I am investigating the murder of Miss Adelaide Montegomery, the resident of this flat address."
"Adelaide's dead?" the woman's dark eyes went wide with shock. "When?"
"Last night I'm afraid. Who are you, miss? There were no roommates listed on Miss Montegomery's contract."
"I'm Morrigan Corbin. Adelaide didn't live here, she lived in the flat across the hall."
"This is flat four is it not?"
"No, detective. Flat four is across the hall. This is flat three."
I looked at the young woman, attempting to determine whether she was lying or not. After a moment, I decided she was telling the truth and turned back to check the door. Sure enough, the number on her door was a brass 4.
"Come here, Miss Corbin."
Morrigan obeyed and walked quickly to the door where she once again looked surprised to see the number 4 displayed clearly.
"That's not right, detective. Everyone knows even numbered doors are always on the right side of the hall."
I did not respond to her comment, instead I mentally kicked myself for not realizing it sooner. Someone, the killer, or an accessory, had switched the numbers. For what purpose, I was not sure.
"Tell me, Miss Corbin, did you see anyone strange in the building over the last, let's say, week?"
"No, sir," the woman stammered. "No one strange. But, well, I did see Mr. Cooley, the flat manager, and Adelaide get into a heated argument the day before last."
"An argument? Do you know what they were arguing about?"
"Sounded like they were arguing over money. But I didn't stick around to hear more. They used to argue a lot before, when they were together."
"And did you hear mention of a security deposit box?"
"Yes, now that you mention it. Mr. Cooley was raving about a security deposit box. He wanted the key."
"Thank you very much Miss Corbin, I am so sorry to have frightened you." I handed the young woman my calling card, "If you think of anything else, or see anything strange happening around, do not hesitate to call or come by the station."
"I hope you find whoever killed Addie. She was a sweet girl," Miss Corbin replied. "If I think of anything else, I'll call you."
"Thank you again, Miss Corbin."
I left her apartment and headed back outside to interrogate the flat manager one more time. He was connected to the security box, and that might mean he was connected to the murders. I didn't suspect him, necessarily, as the killer—Mr. Cooley didn't strike me as the sort who was capable of such clean and masterful killings—but it was possible, even likely, that Cooley knew more than he was letting on.
Ask the Oracle
Outside the flat, I found Mr. Cooley sitting on the stoop shaking both legs and wringing his hands. His body language was screaming with worry and panic. I knew that simple questioning would get me nowhere with Cooley and his tough guy attitude, even if it was a thin veneer covering his obvious lack of control.
"Mr. Cooley, I have a few more questions for you," I said, slipping by him on the stairs and standing in front of him, my hands resting on my hips. "Can you explain why the numbers on the first floor apartments have been switched?"
Action
Resource Update
"Look man, I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't switch numbers. That's way more work than I want to do. I don't know nothin’ about that."
"What about the argument you were having with Miss Montegomery the day before she was killed. Care to tell me about that?"
"Not really, it's private business."
"I shouldn't have to remind you, Mr. Cooley, that by failing to answer, you're impeding an official investigation. Moreover, you have a motive to kill Miss Montegomery. Money was it?"
"I didn't kill Addie!" Cooley said, loudly, and leapt to his feet. "I would never, man. I loved her. Sure I wasn't good at showing it, and maybe I've got a temper. But I would never hurt her."
"Say I believe you. What were you arguing about? If for no other reason, tell me to clear your name."
Cooley paused. He scratched his chin and I could almost hear the cogs in his head whirring as he considered his next words carefully. When he spoke again, it was in a whisper.
"Addie and I had an agreement. If I could change, she would marry me. She put my great-gran's ring in a safety deposit box over at the bank. She said that if I could learn to be calm and caring, attentive and give up my gambling, that sort of thing, she would accept the ring and marry me. Until then, I asked her to put it into the safety box to keep me from using it as collateral for gambling."
"Why were you arguing over it then?"
Cooley frowned, as though remembering something painful, then spoke. "I went to ask for the ring back, since Addie told me she was done waiting for me to change. It's my ring, after all. My great-gran gave it to me when I wanted to propose to Addie."
"And she refused?"
"She did. She said I gave it to her to keep safe, and she didn't think I was ready to have it back. That ring is worth at least two grand, detective. She has—had—no right to keep it from me. Not when she went back on our deal."
"I do see your point, Mr. Cooley. As well as hers. She clearly still cared for you, despite not wishing to wait for you to get your vices under control."
"Did you find the key?"
"We did. Miss Montegomery had it on her person."
"Can I have it? I just want my gran's ring back."
"Unfortunately it is evidence in an on-going serial murder investigation. One last question," I started, before the man could complain. "What do you know about this ring of your grandmother's?"
"Not much. I know that it belonged to her several times great-grandmother. She used to tell me stories of the time after the Ghostlight cracked the moon. Claimed the ring came from the moon itself. It is rather white, but I always thought it was just a big gemstone."
"From the moon? How odd." I wasn't sure what to make of this new bit of information, so I filed it away for consideration later. "Thank you Mr. Cooley. That answers some questions I could not. I will go inside and look into Miss Montegomery's flat. Stay in town, I may have more questions for you."
Action
Inside Miss Montegomery's flat, the presence of Ghostlight was immediately obvious. It electrified the air, leaving the hairs on the nape of my neck standing on end. When I reached the small living area, I realized why the Ghostlight was surging so much in this small flat: Adelaide Montegomery, dressed in the white and navy dress she was wearing when she died, stood over the polished mahogany coffee table. Her spectral form flickered, as if the signal was distorted, and was a transparent blue-white.
"Miss Montegomery? Can you hear me?" I asked, closing the gap between myself and the Ghost Echo of Adelaide Montegomery.
The ghost echo looked up, her bright white eyes seeming to penetrate my very being. She said nothing, but stretched out a well manicured hand and pointed at the coffee table. I examined it from my vantage, but immediately knew what the ghost was indicating. On the table was a familiar symbol, a circle with an upside down triangle, drawn in dirt and flower petals. I was absolutely certain that a scan of the plant matter would reveal it to be Aconitum napellus.
"Is this connected to the person who murdered you?"
The ghost echo simply stared, a spectral tear slipping down her pale face, and nodded.
"Is there more evidence here?"
The ghost echo looked hard at me, then moved her hand to her necklace.
"Is it the ring?"
Action Results
Resource Update
Ask the Oracle
The ghost nodded, almost imperceptibly, and then coalesced into a cloud of white and blue lightning. The energy built to a tumultuous roar in my ears and I fled from the room. In the hallway, the lights flickered then burst their bulbs. Doors slammed open and tenants began to come into the corridor, grumbling about the power outage.
I knew I had all that I was likely to glean from the flats at 103 Smoke Street so I left by the front door. On my way out, I informed Mr. Cooley of the power issues in his building. I knew that my next task was to identify Aconitum napellus in hopes that it would bring me one step closer to the murderer. Cooley’s gran’s ring was sounding like a potential motivation for this murder—though I was still unsure how it was connected to the others.
Action
Resource Update
On my way to the Bureau, I stopped by my flat to gather the scene report from the night before. When I arrived, I was greeted by a sight most ominous. On the floor of the hall, a pile of dirt and plant matter was strewn in a vaguely circular shape. A familiar triangle of dirt pointed toward the door to my apartment, as though indicating its next target—me.
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