[SS] Cold Wool

Much like the hidden cameras watching the visitors to the village, there was no place Albrekka could go without Aerona's gaze following. The shopping act was seen through immediately, particularly when Albrekka produced the cigarette and asked about it. With an exasperated sigh, she reached for her glasses and inspected the partially used item.

"...Yes, yes we do. It's the cheapest and worst brand we have. Don't tell me you too wish to join Gwendolen and Heilyn in those depths? Those things are only good for reducing your lifespan you know. Well...your money, and your life I suppose. Just a minute."

With a grumble she disappeared into a backroom, leaving the outsider alone in silence. There was a faint hint of a conversation from the backroom before Aerona reappeared, carrying a brand new jumbo package of some trashy cigarette brand.

"Last one. Gonna have to pay extra if you want 'em so bad."

As the lady vanished into the back room, she waited. At least she confirmed that Gwendolen smoked them, as well as someone else by the name of Heilyn...

"Sure, I'll take them." She hadn't really expected to pay for that many cigarettes, and she was a bit strapped for cash considering her stay, but...with the items she bought, perhaps she could last the rest of the time in the secluded town. She riffed through her purse to get her wallet, handing Aerona the money.

"Gwendolen...she's the girl that went missing, right?" She looked to the woman to see her reaction and response. Perhaps something would come from that question?

"Hmph. What do you care so much? Aren't you just a tourist? Bloody meddlers...always sticking their noses where they aren't wanted."

Her stern expression betrayed her hostility for all to see. Staring down the girl with all her might, it was as though she wished her to vanish permanently. What appeared to be a killing intent filled the room with each passing moment of staring.

"Oh, hello, Albrekka!"

The tension dissolved as the front door was opened by another customer, a Willard Macey. With his high spirits and an easygoing attitude, Aerona's death-filled gaze was dispelled and she sighed.

"Bloody outsiders..."

That voice...

Albrekka turned to look for the source and saw Willard, as expected.  It was his voice, anyway.

"Ah, Willard, nice to see you."  She would smile, seemingly not taking much offense to the clerk's comments.  "Just a moment, was just finishing up here."  With that, she allowed the clerk to ring her up.

"Any interesting sights or stories today?  Sorry I wasn't around for them, you know how it is."  She allowed herself some nice, casual chatter with Willard.  It had been a while since they had any casual talk in general, of which was only recent.  Something to return the overall mood back to normal.

Aside from other minor comments, Albrekka was rung up.  "Thank you, and sorry for the intrusion."  She would politely say her goodbyes and step out of the store along with Willard.

"Oh, and the cigarettes...eh, lets talk somewhere, it was something I was curious about.  I didn't want to offend the lady so I bought them after asking about it.  This whole Gwyndolen incident, I mean."  After some ways away from the shop, Albrekka clarified her intentions.  Perhaps Willard had stumbled onto something?

Willard's smile faded the instant they left Aerona's shop. He even looked suspiciously around them before responding to Albrekka, done in such an over the top fashion that one would think he were auditioning for a cheesy crime thriller film.

"You see, the truth is... I did in fact find something out. About the missing Gwendolen, that is. See, Llewella showed up not long ago with some pretty interesting information. Information that casts doubt on the account of that meeting where they made the announcement, as a matter of fact! I can see it now: 'Scandal Hits Welsh Countryside.' Maybe coming here wasn't such a bad idea after all..."

That might explain his over the top actions. Despite talking about a missing person, he appeared to be more excited about the prospect of having something to write about and report on. A 'big scoop', as it were. He was so excited in fact, that he appeared to forget to actually tell Albrekka about what this 'information' was actually about.

"Oh?" It was a bit amusing, really, to see Willard so enthusiastic. At least he found something he was passionate about...

"I'll say this much on what I found." With that, the bag that held the cigarette was pulled out. "I found this at the crime scene. Its a brand of cigarettes that two people in this town smoke: Gwendolen and someone named Heilyn. Though, of course, that doesn't rule out a possible outsider who also smokes them, but its a lead." With that, she removed the bag from Willard's sight; no need to dangle it out in the open for so long.

"Anyway, that's why I was in there, I wanted to see who smoked them. Its useful to know since the town is so close knit and a lot of people don't come to this town save for special business."

At this point, the two of them seemed to walk almost erratically since Albrekka wasn't too focused on another location just yet.

"Still, Llewella told you something? That name sounds familiar. Wasn't she the person who made this entire town call me 'Al'? What did she find out? Clearly a small chip on her shoulder about that...

The excited man quickly adopted his usual composure once Albrekka was finished. He cleared his throat and assumed a professional demeanor.

"Yes, she wanted me to fetch you, as a matter of fact. The name Heilyn did in fact come up here and there, but she refused to tell me more until you arrived. I'm sure what you found will be helpful in her investigation, and I too can make my big break, so please let me tag along, okay?"

One minute he's emulating a bad movie star. The next, he's pretending to be all serious and professional. Now he looked on Albrekka with the eyes of a begging puppy. Could so much emotion really come out of just one person?

"I promise I won't let you down! Being a reporter's sort-of like being a detective, you know. You won't even need that other one who came into town, just you watch!"

"Fetch me?" Strange. "And...don't worry about her Willard, I understand." Certainly he has wanted a big break for some time, so this kind of story might help his career. Although she knew him well enough back then, hopefully that wasn't the only reason.

"Lets get going then, you seem excited enough, I don't want to keep you. Hopefully this ends up not being too serious, as long as she's not hurt and all." Though she did have her reservations, she too was sucked into it. She wanted to make sure she was alright but, honestly the town offered naught much else to do.

Seeing an opportunity to take the lead, Willard excitedly took his position and nearly dragged Albrekka by hand...or would have if he had been that much more invested into what was to come. They passed by what little the town had to offer, cameras watching them all the while, until they came to a stop in front of the bingo hall, in direct view of one of the largest cameras of them all. It recorded their arrival, as well as Llewella's approach. Their pleasantries were of little interest, but the business at hand was in desperate need of capture.

"Yes, hello! Thank you for coming on such short notice, dear. I figured you would like to hear what I discovered. You see, I did some asking around and came across some very interesting information. Namely that there was a distinct lack of an alibi the other night for one specific person: The man from the bank. You might know him, a Mr. Griffith? After a certain time had gone by, nobody could vouch for where he vanished to. The same night that young miss Gwendolen never showed up back home again. Now isn't that a nice little coincidence?"

The camera saw all, and heard all. The person on the other end remained stoic, but their body language suggested..anticipation.

The sights of all of the cameras was...curious.  Was this Willard's doing?  Certainly the city didn't have or need this many cameras.  Still...the bingo parlor again?  She had just come from here.  How did they set up these cameras so quickly?  Too many questions, none of them very relevant.

"Llewella, I presume?"  Albrekka introduced herself, letting her respond in kind.

"Yes, hello! Thank you for coming on such short notice, dear. I figured you would like to hear what I discovered. You see, I did some asking around and came across some very interesting information. Namely that there was a distinct lack of an alibi the other night for one specific person: The man from the bank. You might know him, a Mr. Griffith? After a certain time had gone by, nobody could vouch for where he vanished to. The same night that young miss Gwendolen never showed up back home again. Now isn't that a nice little coincidence?"

"Maybe."  Not much of a response.  It probably didn't really sell well for all of those cameras.  "Have you talked to him yet?"  It was curious that Llewella wanted to discuss this with Albrekka.  If Llewella had enough information to question him, why set things up as they were?  "Still..."  The cigarette she found at the scene was also the brand this Griffith character smoked.  But it still could have been Gwendolen's, it wasn't enough.  "Well, nevermind.  That's the next avenue of attack."

The look in Llewella's eyes said it all: Nothing was better than confronting a suspect with an audience in tow. It didn't hurt to also bring other people along for safety in numbers, either. And besides, confronting a suspect with only yourself was a rather dangerous cliche.

"Yes! Now is the time where the three of us go and find the villain and bring his reign of terror to an end! I can see the headlines now! Maybe now i'll get out of this town and, er." Willard stopped himself short of revealing his life plans and disdain for the town in front of a local.

"Albrekka, Willard, if you'd kindly come along, we can go and nab Mr. Griffith and grill him on what he was doing that night! You don't want to miss out, do you?" A sly grin appeared on Llewella's face; she knew they wouldn't turn this down. If they did, then how were they ever able to get this far in the first place?

The 'audience' was certainly odd.  What was Llewella attempting to prove with this?

"It'd be a good idea to hear his side of things."  She looked to the 'audience' regarding Willard's comment.  Hopefully this town wouldn't be too judgmental.  "Lets get going.  You said this man is someone from the bank?  We can start there."  She wasn't yet too used to the town, but it was small; it was likely she could find it eventually.  But it was probably best to wait for Llewella's move.

"Though I am surprised.  I was a bit tired during the meeting earlier, but I do recall that the...town leaders, I guess you'd call them?  They seemed to not want us to meddle in your affairs much.  What made you consider it?"

It was a little curious.  Sure, Llewella was a reporter and it was perhaps her job to do all of this, but why encourage her to look into the situation in town?  Its not as if she can have her own view on the matter, but what was her view to begin with?

The publicity stunt was starting to become a little suspicious.

"Though I am surprised.  I was a bit tired during the meeting earlier, but I do recall that the...town leaders, I guess you'd call them?  They seemed to not want us to meddle in your affairs much.  What made you consider it?"

The reporter grinned mischievously at this observation. It was still a few minutes away from the bank's offices, so she turned her head to Albrekka to explain herself, as well as the mystery surrounding the townspeople.

"The people here are...frightened. Frightened of big things happening that are outside their control and understanding. You must understand: we take care of our own. When something big appears to have happened at the same time as outsiders show up, poking at everything, they begin to feel under attack. As for why i'm tolerating it and helping you? Well....there's more important things than tradition. And I have a job to do."

After rounding another corner, a small office building came into view. The trio now stood alone against the biggest suspect concerning what happened to the missing girl.

"I see."  The townspeople didn't seem that scared, but to be fair, she had only just come to the town.

As they approached the bank, they startled some birds, a flock of them flying into the distance.  The bank itself did not seem to be that busy, which was fair for a few reasons:  one, it was a small town, and two, the townspeople themselves didn't seem to be that bothered by serious matters like money management.  Indeed, they seemed to be more concerned with what the names of random strangers in their town were.  If one were cynical, they'd think a magician was trying to use magic related to names to get to them, but there was no such sense of the place.

"Well, lets see what this Griffith person is up to."

With that, she simply took that moment to enter the bank.  It was rather small, but relatively well furnished.  Perhaps too well furnished.  The desks, chairs, tables, pictures, and the like, were something you would expect of a bank establishment in some rather wealthy neighborhood. The lobby was enough to fit perhaps 30 or so people, with only a few desks open for tellers.  There were several rooms to the side, possibly for private dealings and the like, but it seemed that most of the administration was on the second floor.

"Welcome, what can we do for you?"  One of the tellers called out to them in the usual business-only speech and tone one would expect from any bank.

Though, come to think of it, that was relatively out of place, wasn't it, for a place like this?

Before any of them could answer, however, the man himself descended from the stairs as though on his way out. He looked at them at first with a smile, but it soon changed form into that of a frown. With an awkward cough and a sigh, he approached them with visible hesitation.

"Oh...customers? What can I do for you today? It can surely wait until i'm finished with a meeting?"

He gravitated towards the door, hoping they weren't there to see him. Llewella's gaze followed him like she too was a security camera, and then she looked to the others before settling on Albrekka.

"Well? Would you like to get this started before he leaves town, dear?"

Most she could do would be to look Lllewella's general direction as she asked.  Odd, why would she ask her?  Hmm.

"We were wanting to speak with you for a moment.  It shouldn't take long."  With that, she turned back to Griffith, hoping to keep some form of eye contact.  "Its urgent."

She was, seemingly, doing what she could to be negotiable enough to allow Griffith some privacy, as she didn't want to yet put pressure on him in front of his own staff.  But if he attempted to simply walk away, she wouldn't hesitate to hold it over his head.

"Its also a private matter.  I'm sure you don't want to have the conversation here, is one of these rooms fine?  Or is another place more suitable?"

"Well, that is...um....how urgent is it, exactly?"

The spooked man stumbled toward the stairs he just descended from. His professional demeanour had been shed and cast aside, though not willingly. He looked at the group and then back upstairs to his office, and finally took a deep breath.

"V-Very well. We can talk in my office. But not for very long. I don't know what this is all about, but it wouldn't be a minor issue if you were coming to see me in a group like this. Let's just...let's just make it quick, okay?"

He turned around to ascend the stairs, and the instant he did so, Llewella shot Albrekka a mischievious grin, as though to say 'You got him!'

It was certainly suspicious, at least.

The downstairs certainly looked well furnished and well kept.  But the upstairs was...something else.  Someone could consider it gaudy.  Fine paintings, vases, flowers, well cared floor walls and floors, well polished.  It was more like a house than a business.

And so the office was revealed.  It, to, was richly decorated.  Extremely, in fact.  You could tell Griffith was a man who liked luxury, had money, and wanted to remind himself of it.  A comparison to this room to any other place in the town was like night and day.

He was certainly out of place in this town. Like an outsider playing an act.

"This is a nice office you have."  She would attempt to compliment the man, anyway, to give him some comfort.  Though it probably wasn't helping.  "Mind if I take a seat?"

Griffith took a seat behind the desk and turned to face them after taking a deep breath. His hands trembled, and his eyes wandered. Beads of sweat began to roll down his forehead as he finally gestured for them to be seated. Every time his eyes meet Llewella's, he nervously looked away.

"Yes, it's very nice. B-but I imagine you're not here to talk about my office, are you? I don't really have the time to be wasting on small talk."

He looked expectantly at his guests. All eyes were now on Albrekka to make her case. Was she there to waste everyone's time with chatter, or did she have something to bring up? Everything was riding on what she would say next.

"Then I'll be brief. The town is small, so I'm sure you heard that Gwendolen has gone missing. Has she ever done any business here, or with you?" She would keep the questions basic and without threat, for now. She wanted to see how he would react and what he knew about her. Obviously he should know something, considering the size of the town, but it couldn't be completely relied on.

"She was last seen at an art show inside the bingo parlor last night. Once the show was over, everyone left and she wasn't seen after that. Did she come to you for a loan or anything like that?"

Certainly, her questions were likely annoying Llewella as she wasn't being seemingly direct. But she was certainly going somewhere with this.