Rapture Noir: Hot Encounter

I was still yawning and rubbing my eyes as I made my way to the scene. The call was short and abrupt, the security man would not tell me anything apart from the location and that Tom would explain the rest to me on the spot. Either the case was serious or the paranoia was setting in and they wanted to keep their communications safe from Fontaine. I had no choice but to go. I swore to myself I would not do any more work for them, but then I wasn't going to sit and drink myself to death while waiting for nothing.

 

        I was half-expecting Abby to be in my office by the time I returned form the bar, but the office was empty. She did say she had some more writing to do; apparently she did more work now than before she met me. What I found instead was a mess on my desk. On top were my notes about Elizabeth, pulled out and mixed with the rest, as if hastily left behind. Abby's picture was also moved, turned to the side. Damnit, she was here and saw what I wrote. I was was somewhat ashamed, having kept the notes for myself and trying to capture her in my memory. But now that I knew her name and saw her face again, these notes seemed unnecessary. Posters too, but it was too late. Abby saw it all and left, thinking God knows what. I groaned to myself and staggered over to my bed, hoping to drift away quickly.

        The call woke me up from my heavy sleep and now I was on my way to Aventine. It was a middling place; it didn't have the comforts associated with Olympus Heights, but it wasn't not quite Apollo Square. Most of the upstarts and social climbers had their place there, with middle-class comforts that were increasingly fewer as the divide between the great and small grew. After all, Ryan claimed that Rapture was not a place for a mediocre men like me. I squeezed past the security at the airlock to the building and entered the elevator to the 6th floor, where Tom and the case were waiting.

        When I got to the 6th, I saw clean, brightly lit corridor with apartment doors on both sides and few of the security standing at the far end by one of the apartments. As I approached, I could smell the stench of burnt plastic and meat. You had the same smell each time after we sent up someone to clear out a bunker with a flamethrower; I already knew how the place looked without looking at it. It looked nasty as I got closer and saw scorch marks that were just beyond the door to the apartment. Now I understood the urgency with which they wanted me to get here. Even though every other guy was using Incinerate to light his cigarette or for show, big fires were a matter of life and death underwater, with precious air being wasted in the process. Arson was counted among cardinal sins in Rapture and was one of very few things that Ryan mercilessly cracked down upon. Which is why I couldn't understand why was I called in, unless Fontaine problem was getting worse and they couldn't spare their own, or wanted extra pair of eyes.

       

        I squeezed past the security people, some of whom recognized me and let me through without a second thought. I stepped into the charred apartment and walked over to Sergeant Mast,  who was busy inspecting whatever remained of the interior, with most furniture and items burned to cinders or turned into melted slag. The stench was unbearable here, scratching my throat and making it difficult to breathe.

        "Thats a serious one Tom, no wonder you called me in so urgently," he turned around to me as I spoke. His face bore more worry than usual.

        "Yeah, this one is rather important. A botanist and socialite from Arcadia and a singer from Kashmir. ADAM overuse, or at least thats what coroner thinks." He sighed and pointed to a pile of charred bones, tended to by one of the Security's technicians.  I walked over to it, careful to avoid stepping on anything and looked at it. Charred body, barely recognizable from the rest. I knelled over by the technician and gave the pile of bones a cursory glance.

        "Sounds and looks like a closed case to me." I turned to him and he gave a tired look. " Apparently not, because neither of the vics used Incinerate, like anyone could tell." I got up and walked back to the entrance, eager to be rid of the smell. I would need something to drink after this.

        "Listen DeWitt, if there is even a smallest hint of a third party involved, we have to know. You know how this works, I don't have to explain details to you."

        I nodded along. " Yeah, you don't. Still short on people and time?"

        "More than ever." He handed me a file that he held in his hand. Thats all I needed from Tom. The apartment was of no use for evidence, with the place burnt to the naked steel of the building. But there was enough for me to run on, even without evidence. Aventine wasn't a place that let in everyone, and the place must have burned down in a flash. That meant it was someone who could get in and vic knew them, or at least had to be aware. I would have to go to Kashmir and find out more.

        I walked slowly towards the elevator as I opened the file and flipped through the hastily gathered notes. James Meyer and Angela Hayes. Both frequented Kashmir, where Angela was performing. She started quite recently too, before they found her here. I closed the file and ran my hand through through my hair and sighed. I was on collision course with some of the more prominent or simply more arrogant people in Rapture and the entry to the restaurant itself wasn't cheap. I entered the elevator and started my ride down.

        I didn't know what to expect in the restaurant but my mind instead fixated on Elizabeth. Or rather what Abigail saw about Elizabeth. Dammit,  I was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and even though I didn't mean no harm to Abby, there was something about the dark haired, sultry woman that constantly invaded my dreams. Why did she have to look through my things? I wasn't angry, but whatever she felt or thought now she brought upon herself. She knew and I didn't have to explain myself. I got out of the lift and headed for the Atlantic Express. I hoped that drinks in Kashmir weren't too pricey, because I was going to get myself a glass or two for Dutch courage first.  

 

        The ride wasn't long and I got to the restaurant without an incident. It was a showy place, with bright entrance and neon above it. Of course, you had to have reservation or know people to get inside. Or have money and I had neither of those things, save for the file form security. I passed through the corridor and walked into the large reception room where I was stopped by an attendant. He was a wiry, mustachioed man wearing a gray suit and sat behind a round desk in the center of the room, while the muscle looking over the place were two large, oafish men. These weren't hired to think and I presumed those two would be jacked up on ADAM too, for muscle mass or something else. Not unusual, but they gave me suspicious looks, as if I didn't belong here and sought to keep me out.    

        "Name?" The attendant asked me in a high-pitched voice. I only sighed. I knew how this was going to go.

        "DeWitt, Investigator" I replied and dug my hands into my pockets, with my file under the arm.

        "Have you been invited by someone, have a reservation or does the boss know you?" Everyone knew Brenda Wallis, or at least her New Year parties she threw for the Rapture elite.

        "I'm pretty sure Brenda never heard of me or cares who I am," I was getting frustrated already but I had to play along to get inside. The attendant only raised an eyebrow.

        "If you have no invitation or reservation, why should I let you in?" His high tone added to the annoyance that his presence alone was generating here at the entrance.

        "Because Angela is dead and I am trying to find out who turned her into a pile of smoking remains." My reply had the intended effect and the man's face got bleak and his eyes went wide. The bouncers didn't seem fazed though, either didn't care or didn't know what or whom we were talking about.

        "That does change things. I will ring ahead and let the manager know that you are here. Just a moment."

        "He made his call while I looked around the place. It looked the part with music, red carpets and the big statue of Atlas holding up a globe just to the left, standing tall on two levels."

        The attendant was apparently done with the call because he called out to me with a rather stressed expression. "The manager will see you... in short time. If you could make yourself comfortable in meantime..." I only nodded and went past the bouncers.

       

        I walked upstairs to the lounge, and got myself a glass of scotch at the bar. I was sure I paid more for that glass than in other places, but other places weren't Kashmir. The drink still tasted the same, the dark liquid burning in my mouth and warming me inside as it slipped down my throat. I took my drink with me and went down to the main part of the restaurant. The place had a vast open center floor with a dessert table on the middle, two dining areas on each side of the room with two levels with balconies, a front second floor balcony, and a stage in the back of the foyer with a grand piano and musicians. The foyer was full of buzz as people sat at their tables and ate, drank and laughed.  You could spot a socialite or an artist in a place like this, but I didn't give a damn. I was content with waiting for the manager and sat at a table closest to the stage, sipping my drink.

        The band stopped playing  after a while and everyone in the foyer went quiet as announcer got on the stage.

        "Ladies and gentlemen, it appears that we have an abundance of fiery talent here tonight in Kashmir! I am proud to present to you another young songbird with a burning passion and a burning, burning song."

        The man finished and a woman walked onto a stage. She wore a long silk dress, which wrapped around her svelte body, with one side cut open to her thigh. On her hands she had a pair of evening gloves of matching color that went slightly beyond her elbows and black, high-heeled shoes. In her flowing, dark hair she had a large rose that matched the red of her lipstick. Something about the flower in her hair was familiar and reminded me of something distant, something that I couldn't quite recall.

        I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw her on the stage, as she strode gracefully towards the microphone, with the spotlight on her. It was Elizabeth, and she was stunning. A small, confident smile graced her lips for a moment when music started playing and she begun.

 

"Well I need something,

to soothe this pain

to cool the love-a you pump through my veins

'cause I'm burnin'

I'm burning up for you

 

And I need something

to quench this fire

before it becomes

a funeral pyre

Yeah I'm burnin'

with yearnin' so much for you

 

        I sat and watched her sing,my eyes wide and fixated on her. As much as she was familar in so many unknown ways, even her singing, this performance was something new. And I couldn't tear my eyes away, hypnotized by those azure eyes and her rose-red lips.my hand moved the scotch to my mouth without thinking and I swallowed the drink without blinking, merely feeling the familiar burn.

 

Don't walk away

Don't do me wrong

Don't leave me this way

singing this torched song

Don't leave me burnin'

I'm burnin up for you

 

        She finished her last note and the music stopped. Only when she finished I noticed that my glass was empty since a while.