[Hunter] Dark Web Chronicle

[Vaneheart]

Residence of the West Family (Allegedly)


Queens, New York.


Thursday


1:04AM

​

Faced with this new situation, Arthur briefly entertained the idea that this whole affair was one big setup. This isn't right. Someone might be home, someone who probably shouldn't be there, judging by the darkness, and someone also removed things from the yard...recently. I can't think of anything important that someone would want to take with them to a hotel that would be in a yard. A child's toy perhaps? He frowned. I think it could be the size and profile of a birdbath, and maybe a metal bench? An entire mailbox even? So, unlikely. Also unlikely that this is a big setup. It was just far too elaborate. They could have easily plugged me at home and been done with it. Why here and why now? No, there is something else going on here. Something odd. Arthur felt his mind race through the possibilities, especially considering the knock he had heard at the West's door before he had hung up the phone. He forced himself to take a calming breath as he continued to survey the area, looking for movement or the signs of being watched. Slow down Arthur, you're being too paranoid. This probably isn't even about you. He glanced warily at the empty black towncar, which might possibly be the tail from earlier. Probably. Maybe.


Arthur slunked down low in the seat, in an attempt to hide his profile, while he carefully considered his options. Not for the first time in this line of work, he found himself wishing he had backup. Maybe instead of a maid or a secretary, I should look for a partner. Who would I even ask? Who would I call for a situation like this? The police? That would be far too wise a choice. It would also quickly put me out of work. Frank? No, that gung-ho retired Marine is too edgy for this kind of work. Mark? Would be great, good eyes, but the limp would limit him too much. He thought about a recent name his daughter had mentioned earlier. Al Holden would be excellent. But I haven't spoken to him in a few years. I wonder if he finally retired from the NYSP? He sighed. Moot point. I guess it is something I should consider later. If I make it out of this. Looks like I am checking this one out all on my own. Just like all the others. I'm going into this one blind though. He checked his phone for missed calls, and found none. He put the phone on silent. Arthur considered the West's situation, and the West's themselves. That hotel clerk would have called had they arrived, and she hadn't. What do I know about the West's anyway? I didn't have the time, nor take the time, to research the West's or this house. He chided himself. Sloppy Arthur, sloppy. I let my mind get carried away, and feared for their safety. As they say in the Army, haste makes waste. He checked his equipment on his person, and felt his hand briefly brush his Beretta pistol, tucked in its holster. He chided himself again. Don't get caught up in the weakness of weapons. They are tools, nothing else. They're only as useful as you are. You're letting your nerves get to you. All your things you need are with you. It's time to take action.


With one last deep and calming breath, Arthur went into motion. He set his smart phone to camera mode, then locked the screen and put it back in his trenchcoat pocket. Staying low to the seat, Arthur rolled up his windows, manually locked all the doors, save the passenger side, and slowly and cautiously crawled across from the driver's seat to the passenger seat, then carefully opened the door, being mindful to make as little noise as possible from the old cobalt blue Malibu. He exited out the passenger side door in a low crouch, locked the door, checked that his keys were in his pocket, and carefully shut the door. He continued crouching as he moved alongside the car, being careful to keep the car between himself and the viewpoints of the house, and crouching low enough to hide his profile from view. Chances are they are already on the lookout. Still, I might as well make it harder for them.


He quickly moved from position to position on his way to the black towncar up the street, using as much concealment as his surroundings and the darkness of night allowed him. When he got to the car, Arthur took the phone out of his coat pocket and took a quick snapshot of the vehicle's license plate, then a quick snapshot of the driver's side dashboard VIN number.

​

When the photos were taken, Arthur copied them over to his Dropbox app to be uploaded for safekeeping. It's easy to spoof a license plate. It's incredibly hard to spoof a VIN number. Now I have something to run by the DMV. He also took a quick glance inside the car through the windows, searching for anything suspicious. Once done, he carefully looked around to see if there was any reaction from the house.


That's going to be a much harder target, he thought morosely. He felt that he was going to have to chance it, and quickly scanned for a route alongside the house, rather than directly up the front yard, seeking the most concealed route to one of the side windows to look inside.

 

[SidheLives]

@Javabee


"Tell me about it Syd," He poured her the second drink. The phrase was not an agreement but an actual request. He set the cup in front of her, used an actual scoop to top off her cup of ice, and (after a glance around for other patrons in need) leaned his elbows on the bar with her. "Let me guess," He put his hand out, holding up a finger for each option. "Work, family, or romance?" He rolled his tongue when he said romance so it sounded exotic and dramatic.

 

[Antba]

Leaving his truck behind at the secure bridge construction site, Alberto


headed into Brooklyn, New York, initially on foot, and then later hailed


a taxi. He was careful to pay with cash, leaving an average tip. While


his simple burner phone didn’t have all the bells and whistles of a more


expensive model, it was still simple for him to look up an address and


directions to the nearest public library.


Alberto arrived at the Bay Ridge Library, and headed for the public


computer terminals. Finding a quiet corner terminal in the middle of


the work day proved easy, and Alberto sat down and went into research


mode, looking up everything he could about his mark. While he figured


that Arthur’s home address wasn’t going to be in a public listing, he


was certain he would find his office address in the private investigator


listings. He would attempt to look up both and see what he could find.

 

[Javabee]

@Javabee
"Tell me about it Syd," He poured her the second drink. The phrase was not an agreement but an actual request. He set the cup in front of her, used an actual scoop to top off her cup of ice, and (after a glance around for other patrons in need) leaned his elbows on the bar with her. "Let me guess," He put his hand out, holding up a finger for each option. "Work, family, or romance?" He rolled his tongue when he said romance so it sounded exotic and dramatic.

A very small smile almost escaped Syndey's lips at this last dramatic word.


"Oh the usual, I guess," she replied after a little thought.


"You know...thinking about life, the universe, and everything. It gets a little crowded in my head." That was a book series she loved as a kid. The thrill of going off into the unknown depths of deep space for unlimited adventure and discovery. She caught herself paraphrasing it often when she had nothing better to say. She suspected the bartender had read the series too, but she didn't ask. She didn't particularly care if he had read Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy.


"I guess more about work than the universe tonight," she added. Frankly, Sydney hadn't been sleeping well the last few weeks. Something was making her restless.

 

[Dwerth]

"Yes, there is, was actually a Grand central in Chicago. But, like that city it fell into disuse, then disrepair. It is gone now, nothing more than rubble and forgotten memories. Tall soaring columns seemed to evoke the Parthenon and the click of a woman's heel on the marble floor indicated a respect for proper attire and manners. All of these are now gone."


Paying for the ticket with cash, - "Keep the change."


Paper trails are for targets, not for ghosts.

 

[SidheLives]

@Vaneheart


Despite the hour and Arthur's generally noticeable physique he was able to slip silently from his own vehicle to the empty towncar. No car alarms went off, no dogs started barking, not a peep from any of the inhabitants as he ghosted down the street to take his dimly lit photos. When he looked back up at the house, nothing seemed to have changed. It still seemed still. He was able to see that because of the neighbor's fence he could slip up to the house without being seen by anyone in it if he stayed low and close to the wood. That side of the house didn't have many ground floor windows, just two towards the back corner of the house, but it also only had one small upstairs window, so it seemed likely if he took that route and someone was looking for him he would be in their blindspot.

 

[Vaneheart]

As Arthur crept quietly towards the house, alongside the neighbor's fence, he briefly recalled doing something similiar in his youth. Back in the Army, I remember this being much easier, during MOUT training. Sneaking up on buildings, crawling under barbed wire and other perimeter defenses, the works. That was twenty years ago. Now I'm trying not to huff and puff as I go and give away my position, or have a coronary event, or blow a knee from all the crouching.


He continued sneaking along towards the side of the house. Once he reached it, Arthur moved along side the wall, towards the nearest window, and cautiously listened for movement or voices, before taking a quick peek inside.

 

[SidheLives]

@Antba


In a very short amount of time Alberto is able to easily locate the address of Camden Investigative Solutions in Brooklyn, New York as well as it's phone number. A little more digging also uncovers a news article about Arthur Camden in which he was interviewed and it mentions him living in Queens. It's not specific, nothing as blatant as an exact address, but the article gives enough details and landmarks to narrow it down to just a couple of small neighborhoods.

 

[SidheLives]

@Javabee


He chuckled at her reference, tilting his head as he listened to her speak. "Well, as long as you know were your towel is I'm sure you'll be fine Syd." He smiled, then caught a glimpse of something out the corner of his eye and straightened up. Another patron was signaling for his attention at the other end of the bar. "Sorry," he said signaling back. "Duty calls." Then he gestured at her cup. Are you going to want another Syd or will that do you like usual?"

 

[SidheLives]

@Dwerth


The clerk didn't seem to keep up well with Guisepe's eloquent language, but he did understand the cash and the extra that he would get to pocket. "Thanks sir, uh... enjoy your trip!" he stammered out at the man's receding form.


The train was on time. And it was a beauty, designed to look like a train out of a time past when trips taken on a train were more than the way to get to your destination, but a destination unto themselves. Wood and brass, reproduction gas lights, a full dining car, and observation platform. It was the definition of riding in style.

 

[SidheLives]

@Vaneheart


With the window open Arthur is able to hear something coming from inside the house, the sound of some kind of movement, human movement, but it is both heavily muffled and it seems to be that the human in question is attempting to be silent. The muffling and general directional of the sound to tell Arthur that it's coming from upstairs.


Looking in the window Arthur observes a very typical kitchen. A little messy, hand made crayon drawings affixed to the fridge with magnets, and a backdoor which would be just around the corner from where the detective currently stood. On the all opposite the back door is a large archway which looks to lead into the living room area of the house, but Arthur can't see very far into it. Opposite the window and closer to the back door than the archway is a thinner than normal door set into the wall and closed.

 

[Vaneheart]

Arthur observed the view from the window. Dark, lots of blind corners, a few unknown doors, and at least one person upstairs, trying to be sneaky. There is a lot wrong with this situation. He briefly revisited his root-cellar meth head theory, but dismissed it. Too many odd coincidences in this case.


He considered his available entry points. The windows were clearly too small for someone of Arthur's considerable size to fit through, or were too high off the ground. He also felt that the front door was too obvious of an entrance, and would probably be watched if there was a lookout posted. Looks like it's just the back door or the root cellar. Burglars wouldn't expect the owners to come in from the back entrance of their own homes, so it probably wouldn't be watched. Plus, I can see it from here. It doesn't look watched. Arthur glanced at the thinner closed door in the kitchen. That's either a pantry closet or a door to the root cellar, if it has one. Arthur thought for a moment about trying to go through the root cellar, but changed his mind. It is just as likely to have a connection to the house as not. I could end up trapped in there if the intruders inside got wise.


With his mind finally made up, Arthur carefully crept over to the back door, being careful to stay low and quiet. When he arrived at the back door, he checked to see if it was locked, resting his left hand in his coat pocket on his lockpicks just in case.

 

[SidheLives]

@Skerz1


In the silence as Jed crouched in the doorway around the back of the dilapidated motel he could clearly hear the sound of a car door opening around the front, then footsteps crunching through the gravel that remained of the parking lot. The footsteps didn't approach the building but moved along the parking lot then they stopped. A long moment of silence passed then a voice. It was too distant to make out words but there was only one voice, then a click which for a moment was unidentifiable until Jed remembered the phone booth that remained in the parking lot. Then the crunching footsteps began again, moving back towards the unknown vehicle that Jed had caught a glimpse of when he rounded the corner for a moment. Then the sound of a car door closing was followed by an engine starting up again.

 

[SidheLives]

@Vaneheart


The back door was not locked, but looking at the lock Arthur could tell that that was because it had already been jimmied. It was a good job, not a kick in or crowbar deal, Arthur's experience told him it was probably done by someone experienced.

 

[Vaneheart]

Well this definitely clarifies the situation a bit. Looks like a pro job. Arthur reached into his inside coat pocket and put on some thin black Nomex gloves. Don't want to contaminate a crime scene more than I need to. The West's are really having a bad day. He carefully and cautiously opened the back door. As he did so, Arthur quickly looked around for any threats, especially in blind corners, before he sneaked into the kitchen, and slowly closed the door behind him. Keeping low, he eyed the floor for anything that might crunch, snap, or give him away, as he proceeded to the archway to survey the living room.

 

[Javabee]

@Javabee
He chuckled at her reference, tilting his head as he listened to her speak. "Well, as long as you know were your towel is I'm sure you'll be fine Syd." He smiled, then caught a glimpse of something out the corner of his eye and straightened up. Another patron was signaling for his attention at the other end of the bar. "Sorry," he said signaling back. "Duty calls." Then he gestured at her cup. Are you going to want another Syd or will that do you like usual?"

Sydney shook her head no.


"I'm good this time. Gonna go light tonight." She replied.


She continued to nurse her drink until it was empty of both alcohol and ice. She emptied the final shavings of ice into her mouth before putting the glass on the counter and slowly swiveling in her chair to survey the room. She watched the bartender stroll over to the patron who had signaled him as she tried remembering what her dream had been about.

 

[Dwerth]

Guiseppe strode towards the waiting car. Finally, time to see what is under this rock. Guiseppe looks briefly at his ticket: it was in the Iago coach, seat 13. If I didn't know better, I would say coincidence. However, I do have my suspicions that there is something, nay, someone aware of me. They really named this particular coach Iago? Do they really think no one anymore is familiar with the Bard?


Climbing into the nearly deserted coach, Guiseppe notes the gas lamps. Most are most likely reproductions, save the one beside his seat, seat 13. I am almost certain that is an authentic Astley lamp. Why would a real one be here? Guiseppe takes a slow and careful look around to see whom is in the coach as well.

 

[Antba]

Satisfied with the information he gathered, Alberto consigned it to memory, and logged out of the public computer terminal. He briefly considered calling Arthur's office directly, but decided against it. He wanted to meet Arthur Camden in person, and to see firsthand what kind of a man he would be dealing with. Alberto gathered his things and left the library, then hailed another taxi, heading to the nearest subway. Alberto felt that he should try the office first, before seeking the detective at his home.


On the move Alberto transitions borough to borough on the subways - kept company by memories of smaller, darker tunnels transgressing much different borders. As the train rushes beneath the city and Alberto once again feels what it is like to be swallowed by the earth, to move through the dark with a purpose. Contacting Arthur is the next step in traveling towards some darker destination still unreached, yet Alberto wonders: will Arthur have what it takes to be more than just a survivor, will Arthur go down into the earth, be swallowed by the dark too?


Alberto checks his weapons, and his fingers find his ticket - just like everybody else it says "one way."

 

[SidheLives]

@Vaneheart


Inside the slight noises coming from upstairs were much easier to hear. It was very clear there was someone else in the house with Arthur, but they seemed distracted, caught in a flurry of motion if the sound was any indication.


The kitchen was just as normal from the inside as it had looked from the outside. Clean but old appliances scattered around the room and the mismatched chairs around the small kitchen table spoke to the earnestness of the home's inhabitants and their lacking wealth. It seemed like a place well loved. Even the floor seemed freshly swept.


But the longer Arthur observed the kitchen and it's cleanliness the more strange it seemed...


[Perception Check - Not sight based]

 

[SidheLives]

@Javabee


The bartender was back seconds later, presumably with a drink order. "Seven bucks Syd." He said with a smile as he got a glass out and started pouring the other patron's drink.


Meanwhile the small bar had had gained a few more inhabitants during Sydney and the bartenders exchange and it was now bordering on looking profitable.

 

[Vaneheart]

Arthur observed the kitchen in close detail. This kitchen looks really clean. Almost too clean. Possibly sanitized? He sniffed the air, especially near the surfaces that he felt might be too immaculate, seeking for any hint of ammonia, bleach, or some other cleaner. He also searched around for any unusual spots in the kitchen "they" may have missed. Maybe someone was hiding evidence of a crime? I doubt I'll find anything in this darkness though. Not quietly anyway. He felt troubled, but Arthur considered the other possibility. Maybe the West's are just really OCD? He briefly recalled his own mother, who had been a bit of a "clean freak" when he was growing up. Don't jump to conclusions, you might bend the evidence to fit your own perceived narrative.


Arthur carefully sneaked further into the kitchen and moved to the large archway that led to the living room, being mindful to keep to the sides of the entrance, and out of direct view of the living room, so he would not alert anyone to his presence. Once there, he carefully looked inside the room.

 

[SidheLives]

@Dwerth


The coach was lightly filled. A small family was seated across from Guiseppe, a young mother and father with two children who looked to be about five and six. An older woman sat alone farther forward in the car and was splitting her time between gazing out the window and a knitting project resting comfortably in her lap. Farther forward than that a man and woman in business speak quietly to each other in between bouts of typing on their laptops. Behind Giuseppe is harder to see but there appears to be an elderly couple and a boy of about twelve who presumably is their grandson and a pair of men in black suits and dark eyes very near the very back of the car.

 

[SidheLives]

@Antba


The hour was late which normally meant nothing to the purveyors of New York's public transit system, but on this night the subway seemed strangely desolate, or at least the car Alberto found himself in did. There were noises coming from the car behind him that indicated there may have been a group of teenagers or other ruckus causing group, but the sound was distant. In Alberto's car there was the sound of the train rushing along the tracks and only hints of life outside of the small in enclosure.


In spite of this, or perhaps as a result of it, Alberto had the distinct feeling of being observed by another, likely unfriendly, being. It was a feeling that those the man stalked probably often felt...

 

[SidheLives]

@Vaneheart


The living room was small but, like most of the West's home that Arthur had observed, it was cozy and well loved. The couch was old and an unattractive shade of orange, but covered in small pillows that made it look very comfortable and inviting. The same could be said of the aged recliner and love seat, all covered with pillows and what looked to be hand made woolen blankets. The TV was so old it was still analog and had a pair of bunny ear antenna sticking out from the top, but it was surrounded by shelves and stacks of films on VHS and DVD. Kids movies, historical movies, action movies, it was quite the collection indeed. Quite a few pictures hung on the walls, all of a family (the West Family one could assume) and they like their home looked worn, small, but well loved and very happy. There was a picture of the whole family, the baby still swaddled from the hospital. There were pictures of the couple on their wedding day, on the day they bought the house, and one that appeared to be them together at a high school dance. And there were pictures of the little girl, playing softball, at a dance recital, at her 6th birthday. They looked so normal and so happy, and so much different than they had sounded on the phone call to Arthur.


The only thing out of place in the living room was the fact that it looked like a tornado had passed through. The movies were pulled out of shelves and scattered. Every drawer on the aged armoire against the far wall had been opened and torn through. Even the storage footstools had been opened and their blankety interiors turned inside out. Arthur had a hunch that the place had been robbed.


A small noise came from the floor above him.


...Or was being robbed.

 

[Vaneheart]

Arthur listened to the movement upstairs, while he looked at the friendly family living room. He felt a twinge of regret as he remembered happier times with his own family. It simultaneously felt like only yesterday, and also a lifetime ago.


He made it a point to commit the people in the photos to memory, while he looked around for the stairs to the upper floor, resting his hand on his Beretta as he did so.