Realistic or Modern Foul Play: A Neo Noir Crime Story (Accepting)

[Jabroni]

[border]METRO CITY HERALD
By Rebecca Stone
December 16th, 1991[/border]

Lovers Slain!

At approximately 7:35 pm Friday night, a masked gunman entered Trattori's Italian restaurant on 32nd Street and opened fire on an unsuspecting couple. The victims were identified as one Stacey Logan, 23, and Alexei Kamarov, 48. Logan was employed by Lucky's Ladies, a popular strip club often busy this time of year. She is described by friends and family as having been "extremely caring" and "full of youth". The former dancer was scheduled to attend classes at MCU beginning in January as a Nursing major.

Laura Ingram, a Commerce resident, said it's sent shock waves throughout the community. "This used to be a safe place. I remember when my parents took us kids to Trattori's when we were little. Nobody ever thought a maniac like that would come in and do what he did."

Kamarov and Logan dated for several months leading up to their murders. Not much is known about Alexei Kamarov besides residing in Northern Heights. According to the Emerald Hotel, the couple booked reservations and stayed there the previous night and were scheduled to check out Sunday.

"This investigation is currently ongoing," said Thomas Callahan, an MCPD spokesperson. "We ask the people of Metro City to place their confidence in our abilities, and to let us do our job." The Commerce District Attorney's Office also pledged to bring the perpetrator to justice and prosecute to the fullest extent of the law. Law enforcement believes the suspect to be male, but details regarding his whereabouts or whether he acted alone remain a mystery. A motive has also yet to be determined.

The slayings come in the wake of a string of deadly shootings over the last two years, most significant among them being the Alemeda Downs massacre, where two patrol officers lost their lives. In light of these events, the FBI has opened a separate investigation into the Trattori's case. The Department of Justice declined to comment. One of the FBI's main tasks is rooting out corruption of government officials. It remains to be seen what will be uncovered, but the Metro City Herald will have more in the coming days as updates are released.

Foul Play Characters
Foul Play OOC Chat​

Jack
Trattori's - Early Morning​

He ducked under the yellow tape with a wide gait, being careful not to leave footprints over spoiled spaghetti. Twelve hours passed, and they still hadn't cleaned it up. Everything but the bodies stayed overnight in a room carrying the smelly fragrance of gourmet cooking and death. The blood, the spilled martinis, even a fly-ridden steak a few tables over. "They don't touch anything, Donovan. You got that? Nobody goes in or out until Special Crimes gets here." He heard those words repeat in his mind like a broken record, wanting to know what was going on. Why was everything so hush-hush? No one was talking to the police, especially those who were present when it happened. How can you solve a crime without a material witness?

Jack couldn't blame them though. Tensions ran high and people stop answering questions when they're spooked out of their minds. Silence keeps you out of trouble. The only one who volunteered anything of substance was Sally Salome, a trial lawyer known in Metro City for taking high-profile cases. She claimed she ate dinner with her father and left thirty minutes prior to the incident. So far that checked out.

He flipped open his notepad, sorting through relevant contacts.

Samantha Lynch - patron

Michael Musgrove - patron

Sally Salome - patron

Alexus Buchanan - waitress

Buchanan. The girl worked at the Emerald Hotel, which filled the eight floors above Trattori's. Jack wasn't quite sure what to make of her. Is she a material witness or just another name? He needed to figure out what time she went on the clock Thursday and what information, if any, she had to offer. Pocketing the notepad in his jacket, he ventured upstairs looking for answers...







SandraDeelightful AbsurdNerd Smollest Bean Rusty of Shackleford @Wapiti VasiliasMellow The Omen of Death Error 420 NilNul kasukasu OSWonder Ephemeral Anomaly Sen 3.14

 

[Slade]

Nolan Bentley
Downtown | En route to Trattori’s | Early Morning​

Bloody hell. Who would’ve thought that witnessing a murder felt worse than a hangover?

Nolan’s eyes rebelled against the sunbeams pouring into his dusty window. His head pounded, and everytime he tried to sit up, his body pulled him back towards the bed. He couldn’t even tell if he was able to actually sleep last night or if his mind simply fell into an unbreakable loop of the shooting at Trattori's.

His alarm broke him out of his thoughts, and with a defiant grumble, he finally found the will to get out of bed, deigning to simply bury the faulty clock under his pillows when it wouldn’t stop ringing.

To call Nolan's apartment a mess would be an understatement. There was hardly a spot on the floor that was free of discarded clothes or half-finished books. His desk was filled with mugs containing various amounts of cold coffee. Sometimes, it came to a point where he found himself writing down his notes on the kitchen counter instead,h. Not that these things were truly ever a problem. He always knew where to look, and the chaos simply made it easier to hide his secrets in plain sight.

Putting on his overcoat, Nolan headed for the consul near the door, and retrieved his keys from underneath a pile of cigarette butts and empty candy wrappers. He crouched down, removing the cover on the air vent, and retrieved a single, black film canister from inside. In the background, his alarm clock continued to ring.

It was annoying, really. Any other day, he would have let himself stay in bed until the batteries died out, but alas, he had to get out before the cops came a-knocking.

The straps of his camera wrapped around his neck, Nolan set out for the camera store. He was going to pass Trattori’s on the way -- which was every bit as terrifying as it was exciting. It would be great to get another peek at the scene, but if the right -- or the wrong -- person recognised him there, it could mean losing what very well could be his own smoking gun.

 

[AbsurdNerd]

Alexus.
11:34 AM, Her room in the Emerald Hotel​

Alexus knew what would be coming. After the little investigation, she went back to her hotel room to wait for the inevitable detective to come interrogate her, and then she would fall in love with him and they would have an affair... She'd seen those movies and read those books. She knew what kind of character she was, but also knew that this wasn't a story, and she was in real potential danger.

Hearing the car door shut, Alexus looked out of her window and watched him silently. When he started walking up the wobbly stairs, she came out of her room and stood by then doorway.

"Well, what'dya want from me? You don't honestly think I could have pulled something off like that while I was working?"

Blah blah blah, I wrote this while extremely tired, it might not hold up to what I normally post while I have a clear head. You know the drill
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.​

 

[Rusty of Shackleford]

James Flannagan
Early morning, just outside of Tratorri's
James pulled up in front of the now cop-filled Italian joint known as Tratorri's. James was a native of Metro City, and he'd heard it was a good restaurant, even though he lived down south now. It was a shame the only red liquid that was prevalent at the moment was the blood of two lovers shot in a manner similar to those old mob movies. He sighed, getting out of his Ford Crown Victoria as he lit his cigarette, walking towards the crime scene as he showed the officer's his badge and headed inside, ducking the yellow tape as he took a good look around, and all he could muster was, "Well, shit." He sighed, walking around the spilt food as the aroma of several day old food filled his nostrils, and for once he was glad the smell of his cigarette covered it up. That would put it to his wife about the smell, but she was right in the fact that smoking kills. It was just that James didn't really care at this point. He made his way to Detective Donovan, saying, "Hey, you Detective Donovan?" He lifted up his FBI badge, the metal shining off of the restaurant lights as he flashed it, cigarette still in his mouth as he said, "James Flannagan, FBI. I was told you're in charge of this case." He took his cigarette out of his mouth, blowing the smoke away from the detective as he said, "So, what have your guys found so far? Aside from ruined Italian food and two dead bodies?"​

Jabroni

 

[AbsurdNerd]

(Why did this die)