"I think they've gone" said Suzy as she looked out of the living room window.
"Who's gone?" asked Neil.
"The press. There's no shifty looking men with cameras hanging around outside, no one on our doorstep. I think the news cycle has moved on and I'm no longer a hot news item."
"Thank goodness!" said Neil.
"I know it's been tough on you, darling, and on some of our friends who've been caught up in this but thanks for standing by me throughout all this and I mean going back to before we were married."
Neil nodded but he didn't feel comfortable being feted. It was his husbandly duty, as far as he was concerned. He never had a big ego anyway and always admired how Suzy handled people so well.
"So that's an end of that" he said, eventually.
"Well, not quite..." said Suzy, looking away from the window and going to sit on a nearby seat. "There's a special event at Hey, Wow! magazine. I'm one of Sim City's people of the month. I've got to show my face there, meet more press, have my photo taken and all that..." she didn't seem happy about it.
"I see: The so-called perks of the job" he replied.
"Some perks...and I feel like I've been too off hand with my friends of late. Like they're not important enough to pay attention to anymore." Suzy sighed.
"But you were with Summer yesterday" said Neil.
"Yes, but we got to the bar and people kept asking for my autograph, or telling me how they love my work or how they love how I dress, do my hair, do my make up, do I have any tips? I didn't get much of a chance to actually talk to Summer and she's about to enter a really hectic time as well in the run up to her wedding. There was so much I wanted to say..."
"Like it or not, Suzy, you're a celebrity now."
"I like it not." she said, pouting.
"But you love to write and write about things people these days are interested in. That's going to attract attention...I'm sure you'll make it up to Summer but right now you've got to find that balance between your work and your personal life."
"As always you know just what to say" she said, standing up and giving him a kiss.
"But I have to get to this function at the office. Wish me luck and depending on how it goes I'll either return happy but slightly drunk or miserable and in need of putting back together. Bye, darling." she said as she grabbed her shoulder bag and headed out the door.
The event was a "faces of 67" photo shoot. All the people who were tipped to make it big by next year; 1967. Suzy spotted some familiar people: Baako Jang, Tiffany Lawson and Vanessa Jeong to name a few but there was one person present she knew about but hadn't met. Penny Pizazz. She could be considered a rival; Sim City's #1 fashion expert, but Penny had a TV show and Suzy was still a print journalist. They had crossed paths at various hot spots and social events but had never properly met until now.
"My chief rival...Suzy Kent. I finally get to say hello to you" said Penny, a very confident looking who oozed sassiness. Her greeting was friendly but there was an aura about her that left Suzy feeling she was definitely the junior fashion reporter present.
"Penny...lovely to meet you properly at last. I'm a big fan of your work." replied Suzy.
"As I am of yours. How come we've not met before given our work?"
"A bit of a mystery" said Suzy, smiling.
"Well, you've added another string to your bow with the crime investigations. It's not a subject I wish to touch." said Penny, her expression turning serious for a moment.
"That wasn't planned, a story just happen to land at my feet, so to speak. So what are you currently working on?"
Penny leant in and whispered closely to Suzy's ear. "A date has been added to The Beatles' American tour. They are coming to Sim City after all and I've landed an interview with them." Penny leant back, looked at Suzy's shocked expression and nodded a confirmation.
"Oh my gosh! Sorry, I'll keep my voice down! I take it this is an exclusive and to be kept under wraps for now?" said Suzy.
"Yes, if you don't mind. I don't want to brag but...hey, it's The Beatles."
"I understand and I'm very happy for you. But do you know what's going to be happening here, today? My publisher hasn't revealed much about the schedule."
Penny pointed to an older black man standing in the office and who had a faint air of disapproval about him.
"That's Mark Hanson, our photographer. You may have heard his name before: He gained fame as one of the first black war photographers in WW2. Of course he went on to cover Korea, the Cuban revolution and has recently returned from Vietnam."
"And someone thought he'd be ideal to photograph a glossy magazine studio shoot?" said Suzy.
"He's done fashion as well: Paris, Milan...You might remember that Suzy Parker shoot for Vogue back in '61 or '62, I can't remember exactly when."
"Before my time, Penny."
Hanson approached Suzy with a scowl on his face. "Are you Suzy Kent?" he said, gruffly.
"Yes...well, Suzy Humphries to be exact. Kent is my maiden name..."
"I haven't time for that. Is that the outfit you're going with?" he said, looking her up and down.
"Well, yes. Is this acceptable?" said Suzy nervously.
"Black and white on a multi-coloured background? Sure...sure..." he said but Suzy wasn't sure if that was a yes or no.
A little while later and Suzy was in full swing as a fashion model. Hanson snapped off reel after reel of film and by the end he managed to crack a smile. "You're very good at this, Suzy. You have a natural poise and grace often lacking in young people these days. You look like Grace Kelly and you have a style like Audrey Hepburn."
Suzy blushed at the comparison but thanked him. "Am I done?" she asked, politely.
"Yeah, OK, let's get these other kids on set..."
In a break between photo shoots Suzy and Penny found themselves seated next to each other again but before they could continue their conversation from earlier, Mark Hanson came over and sat next to them.
"You know..." he began to speak, before even any pleasantries were exchanged, "...I've seen all kinds of beautiful women pass through my lens; some great, some shy, some with that magic quality not easily put in words but you know it when you see it. You two definitely have it. You both have style and grace...not like pin-up girl, what's her name, over there!" he said, nodding towards Tiffany.
"Suzy...you could easily be a professional model. If you want to make a career move and earn some serious money, I can put you in touch with the right people"
Suzy blushed at the compliment but said "thank you, Mr Hanson, but I prefer to write about the fashion, not model it."
"Yeah, you've got smarts and I respect that. But just one word of advice....why not grow your hair long? You've got that Louise Brooks thing going and that died out with the stockmarket crash in '29"
Suzy laughed. "Mr Hanson, I like my geometric bob just fine. It's making a comeback."
Hanson shrugged and stood up. "Young women today...they know what they want. Sheesh." he muttered.
Penny looked at Suzy and smiled as well. "Let's slip away from here and head on to a groovy bar I know..." she said.
"I couldn't agree more..." Suzy replied.
The place Penny chose was quieter and the two young women could sit at the bar and converse without being disturbed.
"I'm starting to get fed up with being feted all the time. I've got reporters outside my home, I'm sent by the magazine to do photoshoots and interviews, one after another...you're famous in this town, does this happen to you?"
"From time to time...the thing is, Suz, is that you chose to work in the media and that comes with expectations from others. You could always up sticks and become a teacher in a small rural town if it gets too much." Penny replied.
"How do you cope?" asked Suzy.
"This..." Penny said, raising her glass. "Well, seriously, I ask myself what do I want to do? I want to be at the heart of the social life in this town. I look on, observe then comment on what I see and I accept that my wish to be at the heart of things comes with this cost of fame and dealing with it. The press intrusion is only occasionally: They move on to the next story at the click of the fingers. But the fame grants you access to more things."
"I wanted to write about fashion and I took this turn and ended up becoming an investigative journalist."
"Yeah, and you took on the Landgraabs. I'd worry less about the press intrusions and more about what they're going to do for revenge."
Suzy took a sip of her wine and nodded. "I fear this is merely the beginning of something much bigger. You see, Penny, my next piece is going to be about the Fengs."
"You don't make life easy for yourself!" said Penny, looking astonished.
"I know...and I wonder how much I can put my husband through yet another investigation of the rich and powerful. You see, there's that matter of an attempted assassination of Lily Feng a few months back which is linked to that theft of your fashion portfolio...."
Penny went wide eyed in shock at that reminder. "You're going revisit that? The police couldn't even get any leads...except for that obnoxious British photographer who took the pictures and he vamoosed back to England when he found out the cops wanted to talk with him."
"Maybe I'll have to travel to England then..." said Suzy.
On the surface, it was just a regular day in Oasis Springs. Children were off to school, teenagers and young people on their way to college. The postman was delivering mail and all was as it was supposed to be. But that was on the surface; beneath there were people with secrets and desires...
One such person was George Sneedley who was currently dancing around as his alter-ego; either Georgina or Beulah. It had been a difficult couple of weeks for George: Geoffrey Landgraab's fall from grace, subsequent mental breakdown and eventual death just hours after George had seen him, had hit him harder than he had admitted to his work colleagues and wife. Geoffrey, in a manic state, visited Sneedley Burrow in order to find Beulah and found George in drag instead. He wanted to elope with Beulah but George, reluctantly, had to admit to Geoffrey that he wasn't the woman he thought he was but was instead a man, and a man who had no intention of running off with Geoffrey Landgraab.
Geoffrey was the only person in the world who knew that George was a transvestite and now that secret had gone to his grave...or had it? George wondered if Geoffrey had told anyone else...but it had been two weeks now and no one had come to George to say that they knew. Maybe his secret was still safe...
Yesterday George bought a woman's exercise leotard on an impulse. He hadn't planned to stop by Pack's Boutique and look at women's clothes but he found himself drawn to the shop and felt compelled to go in, and once there his curiosity had been aroused by the leotard with its figure hugging stretchiness. On his first visit to Pack's he had had a panic attack; partially from sensory overload of seeing so many colourful and fashionable women's outfits that he, deep down, wanted to try on but also from this struggle within himself between the traditionalist who favoured modest, classically tailored women's clothing and a stirring within him to embrace the new fashions of 1966. As Beulah he had spent a lot of time in the company of Nancy Landgraab and she was extolling the virtues of shorter hemlines, bright colours in man-made fabrics, heavier eye make-up and pantyhose over stockings. Some of Nancy's influence was starting to affect George...or rather Georgina's...ideas on style. In his new skin tight exercise outfit, he was enjoying dancing around.
After an hour of prancing and dancing about he changed into his favourite pink satin dress and read some cookbooks in order to learn more recipes for his work. Once more he felt sensual and feminine in this outfit.
Then he went for a walk down the road. He was confident now he could pass for a woman because no one batted an eyelid and no one looked at him strangely. He was accepted as another passer-by and he loved the experience of venturing out in public dressed as a woman.
He sat down on a bench by the communal garden at the end of Bedrock Straight and just enjoyed the peace and fine weather. Then he got to thinking about where to go with his cross-dressing. When he had that confrontation with Geoffrey and heard about his death his first instinct was to gather up all his outfits, make up and wigs and throw them in the trash, but his desire to cross-dress was too strong to abandon. However, Beulah was a creation on the fly when Geoffrey encountered him and it was Beulah, not his original feminine alter-ego; Georgina, that had dominated. If a police investigation was being very thorough then they might want to question Beulah...so George resolved that it would be Beulah who would go in the trash and not 'Georgina'.
Beulah Boutee was no more. The fake Southern Belle routine would be ditched along with some things that made her distinctive. George then decided on how to make-over Georgina to distance herself from Beulah. A change of hair colour? A different style approach? Maybe work more on losing weight to appear more svelte or else resort to using an old fashioned corset to give the appearance of a figure? All things to consider going forwards.
George went home and took a look in the mirror, silently saying goodbye to Beulah. It was fun for a while but she was also partly a construction of Geoffrey Landgraab, whose attention and devotion to the character pushed George into creating her. As Geoffrey was no longer with the world, Beulah would be metaphorically buried with him.
Reverting back to George just before he had to go to work, he looked to the future not with worry but with excitement. What would the new Georgina be like?
Meanwhile the campaign trail had been productive and the donations were starting to trickle in to the Sneedley For District Representative campaign so Edna decided to head to her favourite drinking spot and celebrate in a small way with a few drinks.
Edna noticed a man sitting next to her; an older gentleman with very bright and clear blue eyes who had an air of relaxed confidence about him as he sat at the bar dressed as if he was going to play golf. She had never met this man before but recognised him from newspapers, television and his own portrait which was prominently displayed at Affluista Mansion; home of the Landgraabs.
"Excuse me, sir, but would I be addressing Mr Malcolm Landgraab III by any chance?" she said.
"That's me...who's asking?" he said, calmly.
"Mrs Edna Sneedley; I am an acquaintance of your family. May I offer my sincere condolences over Geoffrey's untimely death. He was a great benefactor, ally and...dare I say it...friend to myself and my husband, George."
"Thank you, Mrs Sneedley"
"Call me Edna"
"Alright, Edna. You said Geoffrey was a benefactor and ally: For what?"
"Oh I organise a charitable organisation called The League of Decency. Your late son-in-law and his wife, Nancy, were great supporters in our quest to improve society by opposing loucheness, immorality and sexual impropriety."
"My Nancy has supported that?" said Mal, with a wry smile. "I'm sure she has donated handsomely, I mean."
"Yes, a wonderful woman...an example to us all. I know you have a lot on your plate to deal with, Mr Landgraab, but I would very much like it if the Landgraab Foundation were to continue supporting our cause."
"I will go over your file when I get to the office and review the company arrangement with you. As you may gather, I have a lot of other business to attend to at the moment"
"Mr Landgraab, sir...you are due to tee off at 3:30pm" said a man in a pale grey suit who wore a matching peaked cap.
"Thank you, Leonard. Mrs Sneedley, I must go now but I will look over your file when I'm in the office. Goodbye and thank you for your message of condolence." With that, Mal Landgraab stood up and followed his chauffer to the waiting limousine parked downstairs.
Edna was pleased she had got to meet no less a person than Malcolm Landraab III and that she could get him to secure more funding and support for the League of Decency. Meanwhile, she ordered another drink from the bar and proceeded to canvass the other patrons of the Solar Flare Lounge for their political support.
"I dunno, lady...I'm not really political..." said a young man who gave his name as Gunther Munch.
"I understand, I wasn't political myself until recently but do you know that crime is on the way up in our fair city? And also drug use? These are the ills of the permissive society..." said Edna.
"I think my brother has had plenty of the permissive society...I've been missing out..." replied the forlorn looking Gunther.
Edna's conversation was abruptly stopped when she overheard two familiar, but unwelcome voices from behind her.
"So, Suzy, you're the toast of the town following your Landgraab expose. How are you going to follow that one up?"
"Well, Penny, I could go back to fashion journalism; there's some really exciting fall trends I've had a sneak preview of, but believe me the Landgraabs are only the first of the big families in Sim City which are concealing secrets..."
"Ugh...Suzy Kent and Penny Pizazz; two of my least favourite people in this town. My advice, Gunther is to stay clear of loose women like that!"
"We can hear you, Edna" said Suzy.
"You were meant to" replied a haughty Edna in response.
"Your slurs have no effect on me, just so you know"
"Well I think it's disgraceful that you should print that scurrilous hit piece on a fine man; Geoffrey Landgraab, God rest his soul!"
"Everything in that article can be verified and, besides, Geoffrey's death has nothing to do with me but more with the corruption of his family."
"Tsk! Shocking gossip and malicious slander!" said Edna, taken aback.
"You have no idea what's going on in this town, Edna, no idea!" said, Suzy who was standing her ground.
"This, Gunther...this is what I have to deal with! Vote Edna Sneedley for City Council on September 7th!"
"STOP! IN THE NAME OF THE LAW!" Yelled Action as he gave chase to the mysterious woman who went by the name of Leanne MacGregor. She was the new chief suspect in the attempt to kill Policewoman Marina Beckett, Alan Cuffe, Madelyn Buchanan and Lily Feng. Action had been alerted to Leanne's presence in Foundry Cove by his neighbour, Suzy Kent, an intrepid reporter who had done much to uncover who was behind these crimes. Suzy had spotted Leanne in the street, confronted her and found out her name before being threatened by the strange woman. Suzy then immediately roused Action, who grabbed his .38 service revolver and set off in pursuit.
Action had an athlete's physique and was able to run at speed as soon as he shot out of his front door. Within seconds he had turned the corner into the main road and could see Leanne up ahead. He yelled his challenge, all the while preparing to ready his revolver in case she was armed. But the woman just walked casually ahead, not gathering pace but not slowing down either. She completely ignored the challenge he had shouted and walked on.
"STOP! POLICE!" he yelled again, gun in hand. She ignored him and walked on. Action was perplexed: He was running at full speed and yet despite the fact she appeared to be casually walking he hadn't gained on her: She was always constantly 30 feet away from him, he didn't understand how. He now considered firing a warning shot to stop her but, suddenly, the brilliant white headlights of a car which was heading towards him momentarily blinded his vision.
When he'd recovered his eyesight, seconds later, Leanne was nowhere to be seen.
Action was mystified by all this: Where did she go? How did she maintain that same distance from him despite his chasing after her? He looked down the road: It was the main road through Foundry Cove with no side streets for 500 yards in the direction she was heading so she couldn't have gone down there. He frantically looked into people's front yards and in the communal garden in case she was hiding but she was nowhere to be found. Perhaps she lived locally and had vanished into one of these houses? He decided to go door to door, prepared to wake people up if necessary, to find her. After two hours of this he'd turned up nothing: No one had seen her, no one had heard of her name and although some people had heard him shouting to her to stop, no one had witnessed anything. He went back home, called Precinct 13 and explained the situation to the head of the night shift. An APB was put out for any units in the area who had seen her: They were to detain her and take her to the precinct house.
The next day Action arrived for his shift despite only getting 4 hours sleep the night before. This case had now moved up a gear and he was too restless and fired up to take things easy. He headed straight to his desk in the squad room to file a full report on what he had seen and the actions he took the previous evening. Seeing Action working frantically at his desk, Duty Sergeant Kitchen approached him.
"Did Night Shift find anything, Sarge?" Action asked.
Kitchen shook his head. "They did a thorough house to house search and turned up nothing" he replied.
"Well, we've got a name, an age and a physical description so the next step is to get a photofit image of her and get it to all units." said Action.
"Have you considered that might not be her real name?" asked Kitchen.
Action said nothing but gave Kitchen a look that said "don't insult my intelligence".
A uniformed policeman entered the squad room and said "The chief wants to see you, Action". Action got up from behind his desk and went to the Chief's office.
Two other police officers were present, one of them being Cole Michaels of the Juvenile Investigation Team...or 'Mod Squad' as it was informally known as.
"Action!" bellowed the Chief. "What's the latest on this woman?"
"I'm getting a photofit image of her so we can distribute that to all our mobile units, witnesses and newspapers. We have a name...which is probably false but nonetheless a name she uses. She gave her age as 27, which fits her physical description and another clue is that she says she's originally from out of town."
There was more Action could have mentioned: The claims she was a hypnotist, or could levitate or that strange way she could just stay ahead of him as he chased her without breaking into a run. To bring up those things to the Chief would probably lead him to being suspended and sent off to see a psychiatrist. Instead, Action suppressed that information.
"So how did she get away?" said the Chief.
"She's skilled at escape and evasion, she managed to infiltrate Cuffe's house and plant a bomb and she's most likely the one who tried to shoot Lily Feng. My guess is that she's a spook" replied Action.
"A spook?" the Chief didn't recognise the term.
"A spy, a secret agent...maybe one of ours, more likely a foreign agent. That hint 'I'm from out of town' could be a clue. It fits that she's works or has worked for some Intelligence agency."
The Chief paced up and down the office. "Dammit! If that's the case then we'll have the F.B.I. and the N.S.A. on our backs! The paperwork...the paperwork!" he said.
"Sir...I want to get back out on the street, I want to shake down my informants...one of them should give us a lead." said Action.
The Chief nodded before turning to Cole. "And I want your team to work their contacts and informants as well. Apparently she's a fashionable young woman so she might be known in the latest trendy spots...your pimply squad should know where to look"
Cole said a brisk "yes sir!".
Action and Cole left the Chief's office and walked down the hall to the reception area together.
"So, Action, what avenue will you be pursing next?" Cole asked.
"Question everyone working for Cuffe and the Fengs. Maybe this Leanne works in either organisation or has a contact in them. I've asked one of Cuffe's Kittens to meet me here to give a statement.
"Well...if you need any help interrogating her then I'm available" said Cole. "I mean I could be good cop, you could be bad cop"
"Easy bucko..." said Action. "I know your angle: This isn't a pick-up joint. You get your squad out there into the clubs and I'll work with Miss Black Cat herself". They could see, at the front desk, a strikingly attractive black woman who Action recognised from the time he had attended a Kitten Club meeting. Her name was Yadira Rosado but was known publicly as Miss Black Cat: Kitten of the Month for May 1966.
"Yadira, good of you to come down" Action said. "I need to ask some questions about the fire"
"Sure" Yadira replied. "But I wasn't there so all I know is what I learned from Alan and Madelyn...oh, and what I saw on the news"
"Maybe you can shed some light on another matter" Action replied. "Does the name Leanne McGregor ring any bells for you?"
"No, can't say it does" replied Yadira.
"Take a look at this picture...does she seem familiar?" he said, showing her the photofit image. Yadira studied it for 10 seconds.
"Yeah, she does seem familiar. I've seen her about...we did a show down at the Blue Velvet club last month and I saw her in the crowd. It was weird; everyone was dancing and grooving but not her...that's why I remember...it seemed odd and out of place that she wasn't joining in. Then, last week, I saw her again outside the Kitten Club in Newcrest when we had the big grand opening. Again, she didn't come in to the club but she was hanging around for quite a while outside. I remember arriving at the club in my normal clothes, going in to change into my costume and when I was ready I walked past the entrance and she was still there! Half an hour after I'd arrived and still standing in the same spot!"
All this went into Action's notes but now he had to follow up this lead and head over to the newly built Kitten Club itself.
The club had opened only last week and was one of the brand new developments in Newcrest. It looked pretty smart on the outside and Action was impressed. He couldn't work out if Alan Cuffe, the founder of the Kitten Club and proprietor of Lothario magazine was the sexually liberated man of pleasure he made himself out to be or was he hiding something more sinister and criminal?
The interior didn't disappoint either. It was large, modern and decked out in black, white and red. Action sauntered past the bar and noticed the large dance floor in an adjacent room. He nodded to the bartender "Is the boss in?" he asked.
"Upstairs" the man replied.
Action headed straight upstairs to find Cuffe and noticed his assistant, Madelyn, dressed up in her Kitten outfit and talking to a smart looking business type.
"Why, Detective Action, is this a business visit or....are you here for pleasure?" she said, flirtatiously.
"It's business today. Is Cuffe around?" replied Action.
"He's over there...shame you're here on business. Why not visit another time and have a little fun instead?" she said, winking at him.
"I might just do that" said Action.
Action saw Cuffe in the distance, talking to a member of his staff. He sauntered over to the man and directly interrupted their conversation.
"Under no circumstances are the staff to reveal any of their personal details: Last names, addresses or phone numbers. You got that?" said Cuffe. The man nodded.
"Mr Cuffe" said Action.
"Detective...you have this unerring gift of showing up when I'm at my busiest" replied Cuffe.
"I need to ask some more questions"
"I figured that the moment I saw you enter...let's go over here; it's more discrete." Cuffe showed Action over to a seating area with deep, leather sofas. "Do you like the place, Detective? This is phase 3 of my grand business plan."
"What were phases 1 & 2?" asked Action.
"Phase 1 was the establishment of Lothario magazine, phase 2 was the creation of a social club and an image in human form..."
"The Kittens"
"That's right. This is phase 3: The building of a bricks and mortar venue for men of taste and sophistication to meet women who can satisfy those needs"
"Some might call that prostitution" said Action, cynically.
"Detective, I am disappointed with your grubby imagination. This is not vice...no money changes hands for 'services rendered'. This is a venue to facilitate liberated social interaction, I make money from club membership, food and drink and merchandising. Now I thought you were investigating the attempts on mine and Madelyn's lives"
"And also my colleague, Marina" said Action.
"Of course. I hear she's been discharged from hospital now. Excellent news. Now what do you wish to ask me about?"
Action pulled out the photofit image. "Do you recognise this woman? She goes by the name of Leanne McGregor" he said.
Cuffe took the image and looked at it, at one time holding it at arms length from his face. "Hmmm, can't say I do" was all he replied.
"Look at it again. This woman was standing for half an hour outside of your club on the opening day. One of your closest members of staff remembers seeing her and I bet if I asked around more would recognise her as well. Funny that you don't, seeing that you oversaw everything on that opening day."
"Well, the face does seem quite familiar..." said Cuffe, nonchalantly.
"She was also the woman seen standing outside your home on the morning of the fire, the woman seen talking to Nancy Landgraab."
"I was a little preoccupied that morning with Marina at that time, so to speak"
"I bet you were" said Action, cynically. "I'll ask you again; do you recognise this woman and believe me, Cuffe, I'll haul each and every one of your staff down to the station to interrogate them until I get a straight answer. You could save a lot of lost time and business if you level with me now."
Cuffed hummed and eventually said "Yes, I have met her...only the once. I met her at a bar in Willow Creek and got chatting. I thought she had the potential to become a Lothario Kitten and offered her a position in my organisation. She declined and looking back I think it was a good decision: There was something in her manner that was cold and remote...not the qualities I look for in a Kitten."
"And on the day of the opening?" continued Action.
"Well....yes..." Cuffe was getting defensive now. "A couple of times but I was too busy to take an interest in what she was doing there."
"I'm getting the impression you're not being entirely straight with me" said Action, a forceful tone in his voice. "This woman clearly makes you nervous just talking about her. What else do you know?"
"Look, Action, she's way above your pay grade. Don't ask me how I know, I just know that she's best left to the F.B.I. or C.I.A. or someone at that level. A local plod just won't cut it even if he does swagger around in a fancy suit."
"Is she a foreign intelligence agent? I have good reason to suspect she is" said Action, homing in on what Cuffe had just said.
Cuffe paused and looked at a random patch of the carpet as he composed his thoughts. "Yes...along those lines, Detective. Like I said, she's above your grade."
Action stood up, pointed his index finger at Cuffe's chest and pressed hard. "Don't hold ANYTHING back from me in future, Cuffe. Or else I might just have to run a background check on your staff"
Action walked away but paused to speak with Madelyn again. "Say, Madelyn" he began "do you recognise this woman?" he said, showing her the image.
"Yeah, that's the woman who came to fix the electrics in the living room" said Madelyn.
Action nodded and walked out of the club but as he did so he saw a familiar face, and not particularly a welcome one either. Aurora Ahmed: A career criminal who specialised in breaking and entry. He'd busted her a few months ago for her part in a string of robberies but the D.A. cut a deal before she went to trial where she gave up some names of pretty important organised crime bosses in exchange for a suspended sentence. Now she was here in the Kitten Club.
"Well, well, well, a bad penny always shows up" he said, sitting next to her. "You should be doing jail time"
"I cut a deal with the D.A....I don't want to do another stretch in the slammer so...get this...I'm now a paid police informant. Get a load of that" she replied.
"There's no justice in this world. But seeing as you're an informant now and I'm still the law I need to put you to work."
"I charge a fee" she replied.
"I'm sure you do. Here's 50 Simoleons to get you started. I want to find this woman" he said, once again showing the image. "The name's Leanne McGregor, age 27, probably foreign but speaks English fluently. We think she's with some kind of secret agent."
Aurora studied the photo. "And if I find her I want a bonus" she said.
Action then headed to downtown San Myshuno where he had more informants. It was the same routine: Show the photo and give out the name.
After pounding the beat, he did see one more person he was keen on speaking with: The woman who began this whole investigation when a folder containing photographs from a fashion shoot belonging to her was snatched by a local petty criminal working for someone higher up and unknown. That woman's name was Penny Pizazz.
"Miss Pizazz" said Action as he approached her.
"Detective....Action, is it?" she replied.
"That's right, do you have a moment to talk?"
"Sure, Detective, what's up?"
"Those photographs that were stolen from you? Were they all the photos that were taken that day?"
"Oh goodness me, no" she replied emphatically. "The photographer will shoot reels and reels of film but only select the very best for publication, which is what I had in that folder."
"What happens to the other photos, the one's not chosen?" asked Action.
"Well, the photographer will have the negatives of those and the proof sheets: That's a photo print of all the negatives...small, thumbnail sized images...on one photograph."
"Where can I find the photographer who took them?"
"His name's Michael Hemmingstamp but he's a British photographer who spends most of his time in the UK and only occasionally visits Sim City."
Action cursed under his breath. He needed to see those photographs to see if one of them captured the gunman more clearly. "Well, if you hear from him or he returns to the city can you give me a call straight away...here's my card. Thank you"
Action headed back to Precinct 13 to report on and type up everything he'd gathered today then he finished his shift and headed home...late. It had been a day of slow progress; of piecing together fragments of information about Leanne McGregor. He had done pretty much all he could have done, it was now in the hands of the police force as a whole to use that information and hunt her down.
As he arrived at Foundry Cove he saw a familiar face lurking on the street corner: Aurora Ahmed.
"Aurora, what are you doing here?" he asked.
"I've come to tell you, Action, I'm out." She looked bothered by something or someone.
"What? Did you find something out about McGregor?"
"I found things out and I don't want to be anywhere near your case...she's dangerous, Action, and you're out of your depth! Take my advice; quit this case as well."
"What did you find out?" said Action, forcefully. "Do you need more money?"
Aurora shook her head. "You can't afford to pay that much to keep me involved! This is my life, Action, and the risks are too great. McGregor is highly dangerous and you'll be a gonner if you mess with her."
"WHAT. DID. YOU. FIND. OUT?" He repeated, shaking her by the shoulders. She shrugged him off.
"No...I'm out. Drop the case...hand it over to the Feds...or the Army." and with that she walked off into the night.
"Yo, Rookie...what do you have for me?" said Action as he entered the squad room at Precinct 13 headquarters.
"The suspect...Damian Blount...in cell one needs interrogating. And I ain't no Rookie anymore; I served my probation time and am a grade 1 patrolman"
"Until I see you cut it on the streets when the crap hits the fan, you're a rookie to me. Now, who's Damian Blount?"
"He's the breaking and entering specialist who has a thing for women's shoes"
"Oh him!" Action said, remembering the first time he'd encountered Damian.
"Come on, Twinkletoes, time to sing" said Action as he let Damian Blount out of his cell to be interrogated.
"You had nothing on me last time, Detective, and you've got nothing this time" replied Damian, a sound of overconfidence and disdain in his voice.
"You got off on a technicality and were lucky the judge was weak...but wait 'till you see what I've got this time"
"Ooh, don't tease me!" said Blount, in a mock flirtatious voice.
Action gave Blount a big shove in the back and marched him off to the interrogation room.
"I know it's you hitting all those expensive houses, Damian, you have a distinctive M.O." said Action, shining the desk lamp into Blount's face.
"Oh do tell, Detective" replied a defiant Blount.
"You have expensive tastes and they need paying for...not only do you break in and steal cash, jewellery and other items of value....you like to take dresses, shoes and other ladies' apparel. That makes you a bit different"
"It's not a crime in this state to like women's clothes, Detective"
"Hey, if you want to dress up as a woman that's your gig: I don't care one way or another. But you can't do it in clothes you stole either" There was an awkward pause in the interrogation as Blount remained defiant.
"Prove I stole them, Detective"
Action said nothing but reached into a file and slid a document across to Blount.
"That dress is legitimately mine" responded Blount, still remaining calm.
"Then how come on the inside lining of the dress there's a pinned dry cleaning invoice MADE OUT TO NANCY LANDGRAAB?" Action raised his voice and jabbed his index finger down on a photocopy of the invoice in front of Blount.
"Erm....I....I" stuttered Blount; his composure collapsed. Action had his man bang to rights....Blount ended up confessing to a series of robberies and once Action had got a signed confession from the suspect and with that job done, he put him back in the cell.
That job done and dusted, Action headed to the Chief's office to update him on the case being closed and ready for trial.
"Well done, Action my boy, well done" said the Chief, enthusiastically when told the news that they'd got a confession out of Damian Blount. "We've been after that one for some time and you were the one that closed the case"
"It still has to go to trial but that confession will help secure the conviction" said Action.
"It'll go to the D.A.'s office and they'll sort it out...well, what are you waiting for, Action, go get out there and crack some more cases!" the Chief said, abruptly.
SAN MYSHUNO, 13:05 hrs
It didn't take long for something to happen downtown that Action needed to deal with. As he was talking to a local by the name of Arun Bheeda a very attractive but panic stricken young woman came running up to him. Looking at her she seemed vaguely familiar but he couldn't place where he'd seen her before.
"Officer! Officer! I need your help, urgently!" she said, out of breath as she came running to him.
"What's the matter, Ma'am?" Action replied.
"I had something of mine stolen, out of my hands, just around the corner from here!" she explained, pointing to a spot around the corner from where they were standing.
"What was stolen?" asked Action.
"An envelope containing some photos" she replied.
"That's all? Your bag wasn't taken was it as well?"
"No, just the envelope" she explained.
Action took a moment to think about the significance of an bunch of photos being taken but a woman's bag, presumably containing her cash and valuables, was ignored.
"And can you describe the man who took this envelope?"
"Yes, he was a black man, in a tank top and flat cap" she said.
"Hey, I've seen that guy around here a lot!" exclaimed Arun Bheena, all of a sudden.
"Ma'am, I'm going to have a look around this area and call in some back up" said Action, instinctively checking his .38 service revolver was still in its holster. "Here's my card; if you see the guy who robbed you, call this number"
"Can I have one of those cards as well, Detective?" asked Arun. "If I see this guy, and I'm pretty sure he hangs out around here a lot, I want to let you know"
"Sure Mr Bheeda, here you go" he said, handing a second card to the keen and eager young man. However, Action had another person he wanted to interrogate...someone who sees all but is hardly ever noticed.
"Howdy Cowboy" said Action as he approached the mime artist who was being a living statue for the day.
"Gnnnaaa arrraaayy" the mime replied.
"I have a few questions to ask you" Action said, flashing his warrant card.
"I shaid....gna array. G'naim trynggghhh to rorwk here" said the mime.
"I don't care if you're trying to work just standing around hoping a pigeon will crap on you...I'm the police and you will answer my questions either here or down at the precinct house"
The mime relented and stopped standing motionless. "Fine, what do you want?" she said.
"Snatch n' grab a little while ago. Black guy in a tank top and wearing a cap stole a large envelope. Did you see it happen or the guy who did it?"
"Yeah, I heard something...a scream then this guy hurtles past me at high speed carrying a big, yellow parcel or something like that. He went that way, towards the bar that's over there"
"And have you seen this guy around here before?" Action asked.
"Oh yeah...he's catcalled me a few times and shouted my act is garbage. I don't know his name though"
"Thanks for the help...and you say he went in that direction?" The mime nodded.
"Say, you should try being more still, Detective. Cast off the cares of the world and let your body be still and at peace"
Action scoffed. "I stand still for no man" he replied and he headed off to the bar where the suspect was last seen heading to. His eyes scanned all potential lurking spots but he couldn't help shake the feeling that something about this crime was amiss: Why steal photos unless there was something incriminating about them? And who do they incriminate?
Up ahead he saw Arun Bheena frantically gesturing off to his right. Action figured he'd seen something, possibly the perp himself. He quickly jogged over to Arun to find out what was going on.
"He's there...the guy who stole the envelope! By that payphone!" said an excited Arun.
Without saying a word, Action crept up on the suspect. Using his Vietnam jungle skills to move silently and undetected he was up on the perp in a flash and had his service .38 jammed into the small of the suspect's back.
"Don't move or you'll have a tunnel going all the way through your guts. Now drop the envelope you're holding right there and down on your knees, sucker!" said Action.
Action cuffed him, read him his rights and called for a Black & White to pick him up. Witness statements were taken from Arun, the Mime and the young woman at the centre of the theft.
"We've retrieved your photos and arrested the man who took them, Miss?" said Action, asking for the woman's name.
"Pizzazz. Penny Pizzazz" she replied.
The "penny" dropped for Action: "Of course, you're the gossip columnist and TV personality" said Action.
"That's me" she replied. "Can I have my photos back now?"
"They're material evidence, Miss Pizzazz. They'll be returned to you in time but for now we need to keep hold of them."
"But they're important for my work!" she protested.
"Don't you have copies? Can you make more from the negatives?" he said.
"Well...yes...I suppose" she said in a faltering manner.
"Good. We'll be in touch, Miss Pizzazz" said Action. His curiosity now piqued as he wondered what was in those photos...time would soon tell.
Back at the station, Action went to seek out the forensic unit. "Say, can you boys in the lab check these photos and this envelope out...I'm not just looking for fingerprints, I want those photos analysed for every last detail."
"Sure, Action" said the forensic chief. "What are we meant to be looking out for?"
"I don't know at this stage....look over them and enlarge any section that you think looks of interest or out of place". Action had a hunch the photos were stolen for something they contained that incriminated someone...but Pizzazz wasn't a known criminal with a habit of blackmailing people...or was she?
At the end of his shift Action headed home for a rendezvous with his girlfriend, Katherine. They were both pretty beat after their work days but perked up once they saw each other.
Action gave Katherine a massage. "Hmmm, that feels good!" she said. "You've got the magic touch"
"You should see all the other things I can do with them" he joked, flirtatiously.
"You've got my attention if it's anything like this massage" she replied. They headed to the bedroom to get more intimate.
"My day was so boring" began Katharine. "Attending all these meetings of charity bodies, organisations and listening to one dull speech after another. How was your day?"
"I got a confession from that thief who steals women's jewellery and clothes and arrested a street robber who mugged Penny Pizzazz, the lifestyle reporter on the news" he replied.
"Oh I know Penny" said Katherine. "Is she alright?"
"Yeah, she didn't get hurt...it was this package of hers that got stolen. Say, do you know her well?"
"A little" replied Katherine. "We attend some of the same events"
"Would you say she's on the level?" he asked.
"Penny? Sure! She's sweet, knows everyone who is everyone and is a positive kind of person. Why do you ask?"
"It was this envelope she was holding...it contained some photos and I was wondering if, in her line of work, the photos would be embarrassing to someone?"
"Penny's not a blackmailer if that's what you mean...well, she doesn't come across like one. I'm tired..." she said, yawning. "Let's go to bed"
"Sure thing" said Action, smiling and undoing his shirt. It was time to put work to one side and to enjoy some playtime. In the morning, Action looked forward to one of the treats of his day...Katherine's scrambled eggs for breakfast!
