fandomtownies | Trooper Station; Monday [ 02/09 ].

Entry tags:

Trooper Station; Monday [ 02/09 ].

Pants! Glorious pants! Not that Daisy had anything against short shorts; in fact, she was very pleased to discover that a tiny pair of denim appeared to remain in her apartment and that she and her alter ego of the weekend were just about the same size. Almost. She didn't have the Other Daisy's hips, but made up for it in caboose. They were totally cute and something she might actually wear.

...Just not in February.

So Detective Constable Day had pants, she had a very large mug of disgusting coffee, and she had herself stationed at her computer and ready to go and half-expecting that maybe they'd even get some real work today, if a quick glance over radio transcripts might be any indication.

Pity she was too busy being a Southern belle to fight all that crime that seemed to have occured.

[[ open post, open station! ]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

As soon as she'd assured herself that she didn't have an axe through her middle -- and then filled said middle with a nice, sensible breakfast of sausage, eggs, and mash -- Eliza set about to taking care of business.

Still, it was a police station, and the only time she'd ever been round one was to bail her father out of a drunk, so she entered a wee bit cautiously. "Hello? Oh, hullo, Daisy, it's you! Thank goodness."

Edited 2009-02-09 16:12 (UTC)

Daisy offered Eliza a small smile. "It's Detective Constable in the blues, Eliza," she said, thinking that she hadn't said that in a long time and it felt really good to say it, "but, yes, it's me. Is everything all right?"

"Fair enough," Eliza said, with an understanding nod. "And I don't quite know whether everything's all right or not, Detective Constable. I'm afraid I need to report a murder."

Daisy practically felt herself choking on the donut she'd had ten whole minutes ago.

"A murder?" she asked and, immediately, went straight into police mode, pulling out a tape recorder from almost seemingly no where, starting it up, and doubling the effort for official documentation by poising a pen above a small pad in her hand.

"Where? When? Who?"

Eliza raised her finger above her head, then pointed down. "Me. Yesterday, I think, although it may have been Saturday."

Daisy stared for a moment as her brain tried to register that, and then she blinked. A frown very swiftly took over her concerned and serious expression.

"Well, I must admit, you appear to have recovered quite well, Eliza."

"Well, yes, thank goodness. It does seem to be one of those weekend things," Eliza allowed. "I wasn't quite me when it happened."

"I think there was a bit of that going around," said Daisy, frowning still, but more thoughtfully at the moment. "Which would suggest that whoever attacked you was likely not themselves, either, although there is a chance that they were, and I can certainly head an investigation for you, Eliza, starting today."

"I'm all right, obviously," Eliza said, "But at the least, if there's somebody thinking they've gone and killed some poor girl, they ought to be told it didn't stick."

Daisy just sort of blinked at Eliza a little more.

"That's a bit odd of a take on it, Eliza, if you don't mind me saying so."

Eliza adjusted her hat while she tried to come up with the right words. "The last time this happened, the other Eliza, Miss Bennet, she was worried she'd killed me for real, you see? So if there's somebody out there going after folk with an axe still, of course I want 'em run in, but if it's a perfectly lovely person who just got in the way of the island going mad for a bit..."

"Oh," said Daisy slowly, and she nodded. "I do see where you're coming from there. Right, then." She cleared her throat, straightening and repoising her pen. "Either way, then, an investigation should be under way, so that this matter can be brought to justice in one fashion or another. Is there anything, Eliza, that you can tell me about what your once-killer looked like?"

The brief flash she'd got as something sharp thwacked into her stomach was quite firmly burned into her memory, but Eliza wasn't sure it would be much help. "He was wearing some sort of a mask." She put her hands up in front of her eyes. "Big dark circles for eyes, and something metal over the mouth."

Daisy made a small, noncommittal hum as she jotted that down. "Height?" she tried. "Approximate weight and build?"

"Taller than me?" ...At five foot two, most people were. "I was taller then, though. And those boots." She shuddered. "Don't know how I was even walking about on them. So he must've been fairly big. Not a giant, though."

Daisy nodded a little as she scribbled that down, too; she wished there was enough to build a general sketch, but they were still too vague as far as details went. She could hardly blame Eliza for that, though. She was, apparently, being murdered at the time, and probably had other things on her mind.

"And where did the murder take place? We should probably head over with a trooper or two and seal the area off to look for evidence."

"Somewhere down around the boardwalk," Eliza answered. "Not a very nice part of town." She sighed and decided leaving out the details would do more harm than good. "This girl I was... er, you know what I mean, I think... was looking for customers, if you catch my drift, and she wasn't selling flowers."

Daisy's lips twitched, just a little.

"Or rather," she muttered, "a very specific type of flower. Would you mind accompanying us to the scene of the crime so that you can point it out to us?"

Eliza had to clench her teeth on a shiver, but she set her jaw and nodded. "It was dark, but I think I can suss out where I -- where she - went after she left the boardwalk."

"If it gets a little too intense when we get there," said Daisy, "that's fine; you don't have to if it's too difficult. Would you like me to get you anything for the moment, though? Some coffee? Tea to keep the nerves settled while I make sure all our Ts are crossed and our Is dotted before we off?"

"Tea would lovely, thank you." Unlike the certain other places, here she trusted it to be proper tea.

Daisy nodded, getting up from her desk. "I'll be right back with that for you, Eliza," she said. "You just relax a moment, and I'm going to check in with the sheriff. If you think of any other details, just let me know."

"I'll do that, yes," Eliza answered, folding her hands in her lap and dutifully trying to recall anything else that might identify who her attacker had been.

A while later, Daisy returned to her desk, a manilla folder of official documents and the like tucked under her arm while her hands carefully balanced a two cups of tea. She seemed a bit of an expert at handling them, too, along with some cream and sugar and she handed over one of the cups to Eliza before setting everything else down and then reclaiming her own seat.

"Should have asked before I left," she realized, noting the sugar and cream. "Mind must have been elsewhere."

Like on murder.

"Come up with anything else?"

Eliza thanked her again, and added both. Then she said, "Maybe? He was wearing some sort of cap above the mask." Again, she gestured towards her own face, this time to her forehead. "With... I think it was a light on the front, though it wasn't lit. Like my grand-dad's old pit-cap with a spot for a candle."

"A miner's hat?" Daisy asked. "Weird. But a good detail. Did you say what the weapon you were attacked with was?"

"Something sharp," Eliza answered, wincing. "With a handle. He swung it at me. At her."

"Could it have been some sort of mining pick ax or something similar?"

A theme. They always loved a theme.

They did, anyway, in all the books and films and telly shows.

"I expect so. I felt it more than saw it, I'm afraid."

"Yes," Daisy said a bit dryly, "I don't suppose you're versed in how several different kind of weapons feel when they go in, either."

Eliza blinked over her teacup. "No, and I'm right glad of it!"

Edited 2009-02-10 02:34 (UTC)

"And hopefully," Daisy added, sipping at her own, "it will stay that way, too. Now, if you don't mind, may I ask where it was specifically where you were struck?"

"Near the boardwalk," Eliza said, sure she'd mentioned that before. "...Oh, d'you mean where on me?" She smacked her own middle in a move that reminded her after she'd done it of Himself shouting ProJECT, damn you at her. "Right in the breadbasket, it was."

Daisy winced a little at the smack, but scribbled something down with one hand while sipping tea with the other. "Frontal attack, then. Did he swing from above, from down low, or a straight middle shot?"

"...Hrrm." Eliza had to stand up and put her tea down to figure that out. "I was bending over a bit, with my boot up on a bench." She duplicated the position using her chair. "Like that, see?"

At which point she realized she was staring at her own be-stockinged knee, and her face flushed red. "They were very...tall boots."

Daisy had to sip her tea to hide a grin. "I wouldn't have imagined otherwise," she assured her. "Please, do go on, Eliza."

"And then I stood up 'cos I heard somebody coming, and I thought it was.... a customer, you know? And WHACK!" She described the downward and slightly sideways arc with her hands.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Trooper Station; Monday [ 02/09 ].

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject