undergrounds | The Case of Blackthorn Mansion [closed to Apollo, Stiles, and Heiji]

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The Case of Blackthorn Mansion [closed to Apollo, Stiles, and Heiji]

"Dear Mr. Justice,

My family has recently suffered a great misfortune, of whose exact manner I am loathe to discuss by letter. An acquaintance of mine suggested that your law offices may be able to provide some remedy. I pray that this is the case.

Enclosed are instructions to the family estate. I hope you will forgive me for this impersonal manner of address, but if you can at all find it within your heart to lend an ear to my troubles, you would have my eternal gratitude. I shall be waiting for your visit on the date provided.

Best Regards,
Violet Blackthorn."

Heiji looked up from the letter and the swirl of the writer's signature. After a moment, he folded it up, and handed it back to Apollo. "Hey, I've actually heard of these guys. Real old family, used to make a lotta donations. High-society, but now it's down to two or three people."

The neighborhood of Viola Blackthorn's house certainly seemed to be a storied one. One particular house, grey, stately, and slightly dilapidated, rose at the end of the street. It was to this house that they'd been summoned, and it was indeed quite large -- practically a mansion. A heavy oak door served as its entrance, with a lion's head door knocker mounted on its face. The lawn was immaculately kept.

Oddly, they'd been directed to the service entrance, not the main one. Or maybe this was by design and Miss Violet Blackthorn simply didn't want Mr. Apollo Justice and co. using the door meant for high society. In any case, they'd arrived just in time; the sky was darkening with the rain clouds that promised quite a drenching...

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"You see what I gotta deal with?" Heiji asked cheerfully. But for all his obsession with lion's head door knockers, Stiles could be pretty useful. He had a disarming manner that hopefully Apollo's client would appreciate and not immediately want to kick out.

"All right, let's get this party started! I'm sure Ms. Blackthorn wouldn't like it if we were late!"

"If I were late," Apollo corrects uselessly, gesturing at Stiles in a way that forced him to step back from the knocker without actually touching him, and slamming it against the wood exactly three times.

Well, there was nothing he could do. Guess he was stuck with these two for the meeting, which probably shouldn't take more than an hour. He'll just have to bear with it.

"Look, just... fine. Both of you, be on your best behavior. I don't need a bad reputation already."

This is why you’re his favorite, Heiji. Beaming, Stiles shuffles backwards unconsciously in response to Apollo’s gesture. He’s more than a little disappointed that he didn’t get to use the knocker, but is quick to rectify the situation by darting in once Apollo has finished. The rhythm he wails on the knocker is, distinctly, the infamous “Shave and a Haircut.”

“Best behavior. Got it, boss.”

Stiles stuffs his hands in his pockets, trying to look innocent.

It wasn't long before they could hear the shuffling of footsteps inside the door. It turned slowly outward, possibly nudging Stiles if he hadn't adequately retreated after his drum solo.

The woman answering the door was a slightly stooped elderly woman, with grey hair worn up in a bun. There was a veil over her face and she was dressed mostly in black, though she was a pretty sweet-looking cabochon. "What on Earth -- oh, Mr.... Justice?"

She looked dubiously at Stiles. It was Heiji's turn to look innocent.

"Miss Blackthorn," Apollo greets, a slight bow of his head in greeting. She was small, a soft voice, and Apollo always felt bad when talking with these type of nice people for some reason.

"I came with company, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. This is Heiji Hasegawa, we're work acquaintances." Apollo then nudges his head over to Stiles, quickly thinking of an excuse.

"This is Stiles Stilinski. He's the hired help."

Edited 2015-05-27 02:31 (UTC)

Seeing the old woman in what is presumably mourning attire seems to temper Stiles’ restless energy; he greets her with a small, informal wave of his hand, expression curious albeit solemn. The cabochon catches his attention, and he finds himself staring at it a moment longer than is probably polite. Snapping out of his reverie, he blinks at the introductions.

“I’m an intern for Mr. Justice,” he adds on, knowing that his youth has not escaped her notice. The lie comes easily. “Can we come in to discuss the situation?”

Were it anyone else, he would have tried to squeeze on past to enter the house. The fact that they’re dealing with a grieving elderly lady, however, has him on the “best behavior” Apollo had requested.

"Well..." The old lady looked from Apollo to Stiles and finally to Heiji before seeming to come to a decision. "I suppose if you're all together. I must confess, I was only expecting Mr. Justice... but do come in. Oh, and be careful with the door, dears. It's a bit tricky; we had it weighted in '83 to keep out the draft and I daresay the workman was a bit overzealous."

She made her way back inside to the waiting room, where several chairs and a small couch were set up in odd corners. There was a coffee table in front of the couch (on which were several pieces of cake on a plate), and an end table by the door. They all looked like rather fancy pieces. There was a door to the north and one to the west, presumably leading to the rest of the house.

Perhaps the oddest thing about the room were two bullet holes in the wall, just to the left of the north door. They alone ruined the rather sedate look of the rest of the room.

Violet sat down on a well-stuffed chair. "Mr. Justice," she began once they were all inside. "I'm afraid the situation is rather grave. You see, three days ago, this house was the site of... well, a murder attempt."

Apollo follows Miss Blackthorn through the house, eyes catching all the belongings and ears picking up the very loud steps on wood. It's rather large, a staircase seeming to spiral up at every other corner, and only dim lights helping their way towards the waiting room.

Apollo's quick about it, catching the bullet holes and his eyebrows are raising before he sits down, then catching the cake but not touching it just yet.

"... Murder attempt?" Apollo repeats, to make sure. "Ma'am, I'm sorry— what happened?"

As the last one in, it falls to Stiles to deal with the aforementioned tricky door. He wrestles with it for a few moments, muscles straining, and even throws his shoulder into it. The damn thing groans, but is difficult to slot into place properly. Eventually he turns around, leans his back up against it, and then slams it shut as his feet scramble for purchase. The sound it makes is more than a little ominous. Hair standing on edge, he trails after the other two men.

Pace sedate, Stiles takes in the state of the house. Inviting though the cakes may be, he resists for the time being. The bullet holes are startling, but the explanation that follows isn’t necessarily. Squinting at the markings in the plaster, he gazes in the direction the shots would have come from before turning to listen to the woman.

Heiji, meanwhile, busied himself with examining the bullet holes. He turned and wordlessly eyeballed each of the doors leading out of the waiting room.

Violet sighed. "Well, it's the strangest thing. I was having... well, a small party, I guess you'd call it. I don't get out as much I used to, you know, and several old friends and acquaintances stopped by. We had retired to this very room. There are a lot of rooms in this house, but I hardly use most of them, and this one is just next to the kitchen -- at any rate."

She took a deep breath. "The lights went off, and just as we were fumbling about for a lighter or a match or something, the door opened!"

Violet pointed to the door to the south. "The one you came through, actually. There was a man standing there, and he said in this rasping voice... oh, 'stick 'em up', I think it was. I'm not sure exactly. That was when the shots went off. Two of them. And then the man fled.

"We were all in a shock, I think, but eventually someone managed to get the lights back on and we searched about, but I daresay we hadn't to look very long. The burglar... gunman... well, in any case, he was lying on the ground a little ways down the street. Shot in the temple. And..."

She paused for a moment, swallowing. "Mr. Justice, the man they found lying on that street -- the one with the gun -- was my own nephew!"

Apollo has played this game too long to not be surprised at what that meant for himself, but to hear that his client was family to this old woman wouldn't make it easy. It's much simpler to solve a case with someone the victim knows, after all.

He pauses, the thoughts obvious on his face, before he speaks again.

"Has he agreed to an interrogation? I might have to stop by in visiting hours, but if the police already got a story out of him, I'd need Mr. Hasegawai for that." Enrolling him for dirt work without consent.

But furthermore: "Second, what did you see? Did he have the same build as your nephew?"

Heiji wandered around the room as they conversed, looking out the single window next to the south door. There weren't any streetlamps outside, at least on this side of the house; maybe they'd been held up by zoning rules or something.

"Well," said Violet, "He was hospitalized, but I... he's in a coma. I'm not sure if he'll be able to... to answer questions any time soon."

She produced a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes. "It was a man at the door... at least I think it was. But Mr. Justice, you must understand! It couldn't have been Grey!"

"A coma?" They found him laying in the street, and then suddenly in a coma? This wasn't adding up, and they literally just got here.

"Don't worry, Miss Blackthorn. I believe you, and I'll look into everything I can to help your nephew, okay?"

His eyes flick over to Heiji for a second, who seems to already be down to business, before he looks back at Miss Blackthorn.

"Just a couple of more questions, then a request. When was the last time you saw him, before the incident? Was he being strange at all?"

Stiles coughs indiscreetly into his shoulder as he listens to the story, mostly to conceal the incredulous chuckle that anyone would be lame enough to say “stick ‘em up” in this day and age. Fishing out his smartphone, he begins to one-handedly tap away at the screen; it comes across as totally unprofessional. In his defense, he’s searching for any news on the incident. In a ritzy area like this, surely there’s some form of coverage on the attack, especially one that left a young man in a coma. He finds nothing.

Frowning a bit, he takes his other hand out of his pocket and begins trying from another approach—recent crime listed on the City of London’s online site. Also nothing, though this is less surprising. For now, he has nothing to add to the ongoing conversation; he’s simply observing.

"Why, I'd seen him earlier that morning. He seemed just fine to me, but of course he didn't want to hang about with a bunch of stuffy old ladies and the odd gentleman. As I recall, he said he was going to be out for most of the day and that he would be back late --"

"I got a question," said Heiji suddenly. "You said the lights went out just before the gunman showed up at the door. But I don't see any streetlamps outside, and you said that the people at your party were fumbling around for a light. So how exactly did you see this guy?"

Violet blinked at him. "Well, I... oh, I forgot to mention it, didn't I? He had a torch -- a rather powerful one. He was shining it about on us just before he fired those two shots. It was quite blinding."

Well, that was a little hard to process. A torch, huh...

He looks over to Stiles who is apparently busy doing something (apparently a helpful something) and turns just enough to give a slight squint to Heiji (I can't believe you cut this nice old lady off), but he at least brought up an interesting point.

"We're talking a classic torch? With wood and fire?" In this day and age?

“I think she’s talking about a flashlight,” pipes in the distracted teenager, who has decided to help his fellow American out. “That’s what they’re called here, right? Torches?” There’s a muttered, “weird” under his breath that hopefully the old woman doesn’t hear.

"... Oh."

Okay, that was helpful.

"I'm sorry, I'm— I'm new here."

~~"What a nerd," said the old lady disapprovingly~~ "Yes, that's right, young man! A very bright flashlight. He opened the door and shone it into the room... I can only imagine he was looking for his target."

Heiji was giving Apollo a Significant Look. It wasn't particularly subtle... maybe he'd hit upon something suspicious in the lady's story?

He looks back at Heiji for a moment, his own arms crossing slowly.

"Ma'am, if you were blinded, how could you tell it was a man?" If the voice was raspy, then...? Well, time to find out.

Violet sounded doubtful. "Well, I suppose it could have been a woman, but... thugs like that are usually men, aren't they? I... just assumed it had to be." Interestingly, only the last sentence was a lie. And was that a hint of hesitation in her voice?

"And besides," she said almost to herself, "That door is terribly heavy. I should think even a man would have had a spot of trouble with it..."

While Stiles might not have found a lot of information on the incident itself, there was across an interesting article written by an ambitious investigative reporter concerning the Blackthorn family. It mentioned that while the current two remaining members of the family lived in the old Blackthorn mansion, neither had full access to the Blackthorn lineage's dwindling fortunes and real estate, which was being divided. Violet was set to receive title to the mansion, and Grey the family bank accounts...

Edited 2015-05-28 02:08 (UTC)

The Blackthorn name is indeed the next stop in terms of google searches, though it does take a few adjustments to find anything of relevance. He stiffens visibly as he reads the incriminating headline of the article, before diving in to skim it rapidly. Interesting. So, the nephew is going to inherit all the money. But then why the hell would he endanger that future by getting involved in a crime like this? No, surely the old woman is right—it couldn’t have been Grey. He must have been framed.

That naturally leads to the question of who would benefit the most from Grey being hospitalized or convicted of attempted murder. Stiles darts a glance at Violet, thoughtful.

"You opened the door for us," he points out with a shrug. "And I know some pretty strong ladies, let me tell you."

... Stiles is surprising him in all kinds of ways tonight. This kid's sharp, but he's more focused on the pulse that just happened on his wrist. Not only that, it seems like all three of them were on edge and it was time to find out why.

"That's true, you seemed to move the door no problem. So why are you assuming it was a man at all?"

"Well... I suppose..." was Violet's answer. She fidgeted a bit with the corner of her sleeve. "I'm not sure I like your tone, young man. I hope you're not casting aspersions. I was in this room, as were my guests -- we've all vouched for each other!" No lies there.

"Lemme get this straight," said Heiji. "The lights went out. The man or woman, whoever it was, came to the door. They opened it, shone a light into the crowd, and fired twice."

He crossed his arms. "How 'bout a little thought experiment? You said yourself the door was heavy. You're suggesting the same guy pulled open that door, trained a heavy-duty flashlight around, and still had a hand free to fire that handgun? What was he doing, fumbling for the light while he got the door open? Maybe he asked you politely to wait a second while he set up a doorstop?"

Edited 2015-05-28 02:34 (UTC)

Heiji’s nonchalant but confident accusations pull Stiles up short, and he turns to regard the young man with a new, bright admiration. Feeling that now is the best time to bring up his findings, he crosses the room to join Apollo and wordlessly holds up his smartphone for the lawyer to read. He doesn’t say anything out loud, since he’d rather leave that up to his companions, but he’s hoping it’ll give Apollo the edge he needs to get the truth out of Violet. Something isn’t adding up.

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