The Briefing

[Nayt]

Marvin Corsair had been Vontier's capital chief of police for nearly two decades, now. He was old, jaded, and disinterested with his job. He'd long since lost track of where it was going or why it needed to go there, why he was still in this position and just what happened when he and his men saved lives. Upon a time, he kept track of them. Catch a thief and follow up with the family whose goods were stolen and lives almost ruined over the course of years--drop by and see how they were doing, ask if they needed anything ... Marvin had all but stopped that fifteen years ago, and now those people were little more than numbers on a ledger. Names on a report.

Years ago, too, his office was decorated. He hanged certificates of accomplishments, portraits, and even the few still frame photographs he'd been able to afford (they went for a very, very high premium nowadays). Now, all he had was a coat rack, a hat rack, and the red and gold Vontier flag in the corner.

Ten years ago, he'd have been sickened by the news he was most recently delivered, but he had in all honesty heard, and seen, worse. Now, he hadn't the need to even look at it. That wasn't his job. He was little more than a glorified manager, someone to keep the men in line and send them to the right places.

An old man in mind, body, and soul, the sickly thin Corsair sat behind his desk, staring out his window into the gray lit street of a mid winter day, and waited. He'd summoned a pair of inspectors in his employ. He had a task for them, one that had everything to do with the envelope on his desk.

[Paroxysm]

The precinct had seen better days, hadn’t it? There were only a handful of constants anymore, things were changing, faces were growing younger, laws were being twisted, and corruption, running rampant, was everywhere to be seen. Marvin Corsair and Edgar Kreuz, though, they remained, the younger guys called them old school, but they were both jaded now-a-days, the zeal and tenacity of their youth having long since burned out.

“You called, Marvin?”

An old, gruff voice announced his arrival a second before the office door was pushed open.

In came a heavy-set man with thin hair, now well past his prime, wearing a suit that was a size too small, and a pipe, held firm between his lips, billowing the stinking smoke of liquorice flavored tobacco. Like he had done more times than he could count, without so much as a nod to Marvin, the large, old man took a seat in an empty chair just in front of Corsair’s desk.

Edgar fixed his weary, exhausted eyes on Corsair and cradled the pipe between his lips with his right hand. Six months, he thought to himself, in six months time, Marvin Corsair, the Chief of Police, a man he personally respected, would officially be left 'all alone' in the job, because his most senior inspector, Edgar Kreuz, was slated for retirement; although there were a few trustworthy young men about, Edgar still couldn't help but feel guilty about his decision - retirement, however, was well on its way for Marvin, too, he guessed. This was not a game they could play for much longer and he was sure Corsair knew it, too.

“Always did work me like a dog,” he exited his thoughts with a snort and blew a plume of smoke from his nostrils.

[Ramlock]

"Maybe if you had better taste, he wouldn't think of you as a dog."

Edgar's partner, Jean Martin, was only a few steps behind him in entering the office of the chief. Jean was one of the most junior detectives on the force; at 25, with 6 months of experience, he was the youngest and almost most recently promoted detective. However, Jean had been gone for the past month and a half, and the month before that had seen him delegated to desk duty, due to some sort of respiratory illness. In fact, this was going to be his first case back...

"What do you have for us?"

Jean sat next to Edgar in an empty chair, a cigarette tucked between his lips. Jean had short cropped black hair, and a short, trimmed goatee, and his build was generally lean and muscular, though inactive time hadn't aided his physique. He also had a tendency to lean backwards, slightly puffing out his chest reflexively. He had a faint accent, though his speech was also occasionally marked with brief coughs.

Jean, fortunately, was still young, and still had the drive to see justice done, even if he sometimes tended towards taking things personally. Like most young men, it didn't really occur to him that the older investigators had once been bright and optimistic, also. Things had just stayed the same despite their best efforts...

[Nayt]

It beats paperwork, Corsair wanted to say to Edgar, but hadn't the opportunity.

"Edgar, Jean," Corsair nodded once they were both in the room and sitting.

He wasted no time in passing the large yellow envelope to them, to the point where it sat at the edge of his desk, immediately between them both, just waiting for one or the other to take it.

That didn't exactly stop him from telling them a bit about the situation, though. "We've got a reported missing persons. Two of them, to be exact."

The first thing either of them would see upon opening the large envelope would be a pair of sketches, most likely police sketches of the two missing persons. They looked like a pair of young, bushy haired teens, one lean and the other bulbous. Sadly, like all sketches for these sorts of cases, they only told so much about the victim, or victims. Unless the family had a photograph -- which was in itself far too expensive for the average family to have access to -- then a vague sketch based on family identification was the best one could ask for.

"Two north side kids. Serge Soflan and Peter Kersi, last seen at the corner of twelfth and bouleau. Age seventeen and fifteen, respectively."

[Paroxysm]

Edgar blew a plume of smoke in the direction of Jean as he reached forwards and took the envelope. His partner was a smart ass, to be sure, but he was not all that bad, Edgar thought. A good ass kicking would have done wonders for him though.

"Any similar cases come in recently?" Edgar asked, curious.

Opening the envelope, he took the two sketches out and gave them a passing glance before handing them over to Jean. They were normal enough looking kids.

"And they knew each other?"

Sure, it sounded like they did, in fact, know each other from how Corsair explained it, but Edgar wanted to be sure before jumping to conclusions; it made all the difference - knowing each other, that is. They could have run away together or left home to make something of themselves. (Kids still did that, right?) Not knowing each other yet disappearing together would have definitely warranted an investigation.

[Ramlock]

Jean looked at the sketches, which weren't all that helpful... But they were something at least. Edgar was right to wonder whether they knew each other, but Jean was more worried about something else. When someone disappeared... If they weren't found in the first 3 days or so, there was only ever really one way they were going to be found...

"How long have they been missing?"

The fact that these two weren't from a wealthy family was somewhat discouraging in itself. It meant they wouldn't have gotten full priority in the first place... Still, there might well be some hope. They could hit the streets soon, after all...

[Nayt]

"Not recently, no," Corsair replied.

On the topic of if the kids knew each other or not . . .

"Friends from school. At least, that's what the families said."

Which would have made sense, considering the area. North siders were richer folk. They often had the money to send their children to school, and they scarcely had the same problems as south siders -- who stood as some sort of exact opposite to the north side families.

"Last time they were seen was by their families, rounding that corner, at about two thirty in the afternoon -- Sunday," Corsair replied, as if there was some sort of urgent, if not grim, notion behind his words.

Which there was. Today was Wednesday.

[Paroxysm]

"We'll check out the scene," Edgar said, tugging at a few stray hairs in his beard. "Someone might've seen the boys or maybe someone suspicious hanging out in the area."

It was unfortunate that there had been no recent reported abductions in the area. If it was just them goofing off or being boys, like Edgar had hoped, it would have been fine, but three days was a long time and this could very well have been the start of something serious.

This was not looking good.

"Either of you have the time?"

[Ramlock]

"Sounds like as good a place as any."

If investigating the scene didn't help (and at this point, half a week later, it might well not), there were other options. Other friends, family... Someone, somewhere knew where these two were. Or knew something that might help lead them to the boys. Jean pulled a worn, chainless pocketwatch from his inside coat pocket, looking at it briefly before returning it.

"Ten fifteen."

Jean prepared to stand up, ready to leave if there were no other urgent details.

"Almost four days now is a bad sign. I ran away from home a few times, but the longest I ever ran away was until the next mealtime..."

[Nayt]

Indeed, almost four days passing since a pair of kids went missing was, in fact, a very bad sign. It was something that would've worried Corsair immensely had he been a younger man -- but now he'd seen this before, and now he had a good idea of what it meant, and now his defenses were up. Now an unfortunate report, remarks of an accident, of any sort of victimization, was scarcely capable of moving him.

"Mn," Corsair nodded his head, "Let me know what you find, if anything. I'd like to have some news for the families in a couple of days, at the very least."

Corsair slid his hand across the front of his desk, pulled open the top drawer and procured his pipe. He set it to his lips, packed a bit of tobacco into the front, flicked a match, and began to idly smoke. There was little else he could do now except wait.

[Paroxysm]

To be honest, Edgar had been hoping it was, at the very least, eleven or twelve, but he knew he hadn't come in that late. Thankfully, some time would be shaved off as they made their way to the scene; he wanted to be in and around the area at the same time that the boys disappeared.

Although Monday would have been his preference, if someone had been near twelfth and bouleau Sunday afternoon for whatever reason, they could be in the area today, Wednesday.

"Well try," Edgar replied and stood up.

Once Jean was ready, they could set out right away . . .

[Ramlock]

Jean nodded, standing and preparing to leave. While Edgar was looking for someone still in the area, Jean wanted essentially the opposite: he wanted to know if anyone was usually in the area and suddenly was no longer around. Whatever the case, one thing was basically guaranteed: anyone who knew about these boys would not be going about their daily routine...

"We'll get news, for sure."

Jean was prepared to leave quickly. Every second might well count in this situation, after all...

[Nayt]

Continued in The Missing