Bethany escorts Bellamy to one of a series of little doors, clearly labeled with its occupant's stage name, and knocks to warn the girl inside.
"She's kind of quiet, but I'm sure she'll talk to you- police and all," she says, with a small smile, and then raises her voice, "Norea, I'm sending an Inspector Morray in, then I've really gotta go get ready--bye, guys!"
She pushes the unlocked door open, and Bellamy can go inside as he likes. The dressing room is not large, but it is decently decorated and warmly lit- it has a tiny attached bathroom with a sink, the door to which is closed, a low-hanging beaded curtain to change behind that probably only reaches Hasi's collarbones or a bit below, a mirror and vanity table edged with lights and scattered with personal effects, a hook from which her coat hangs, a small portable closet for her costumes and day clothing, and an extra chair and tiny round table in case she has company. Like right now, although generally her company is not police-issue.
The young woman inside has her back to Bellamy and the doorway, but she's visible in the mirror- she doesn't look up, but she is aware he is there. She's dressed in a leather and lace (red and black, naturally) bustier, with matching garter belt, stockings, and heels, black hair tied half-back. She first ascertains that her belt is sitting the way she wants it to, and then reaches for the silk robe she brought from home- it's useful when she's interrupted, though most people don't warrant actually getting dressed. This is different. While slipping the robe onto her shoulders, she glances up at the mirror, observing her guest at this angle.
He'll come on in now, she assumes, without saying anything.
After pausing long enough to give her time to say 'come in' herself and ascertaining she isn't going to (it doesn't take long enough to be awkward), he does and pulls the door to behind him. An ability to give the impression of not noticing what someone looks like (while failing to actually miss anything) has always been useful to him and continues to be so now, as he gives her the same small, apologetic smile that he gave Bethany earlier.
"I'm Inspector Morray. Inspector Gillis and I are investigating murders that may have taken place near Alkahest," he says, soft-spoken and polite. There are other things about her he doesn't miss that can't be seen the same way as leather or lace, but for the time being that doesn't rate comment. "I've been told that you spoke with our victims; I'm going to need to show you a couple of pictures to confirm and ask you to tell me what you can."
Hasibe watches him in the mirror a little longer as he speaks, and then turns, because while she isn't going to say what she notices about him (besides the fact that he's cute, yes, certainly- murder tends to distract, however), she always has that knowing look in her eyes, and this time she's actually got a reason besides 'general tendency to look like that'. She doesn't hide it, but it's not really relevant, and sometimes this just happens.
Less often with her other witches, but their lines are- rarer. And mostly gone.
"You have my attention, Inspector. I hope I can help." The accent is decidedly American- a little bit Southern, actually. She tilts her head to the side and tucks her hair behind her ear, grateful, briefly, for her alias. While she knows it's got nothing to do with her, her past would perhaps justifiably arouse some suspicion- it's one thing to naturally look like trouble, but she doesn't want to be it in London so soon, not when she's worked so hard to try to start over here.
"I hope so, too." If Bellamy notices the look - if he has any ideas about why - then he doesn't so much as tilt his head. Instead he comes further into the room, producing the pictures from inside his jacket (leather, black, unfussy) and gesturing at the extra chair, "May I?"
He's not the sort to sit down without permission; he also habitually rises when a woman walks in, holds doors and remembers everyone's name.
"Of course." Hasibe sits, too, turning her chair toward him and tucking the hem of her (admittedly short) robe around her thighs, crossing her legs. Hasi takes the photos and looks them over, not quite wincing, but after the first moment, her expression smooths out in such a way that she's like a doll, completely inscrutable.
"Yes, I remember them. The boy--" Who's older than she is, FYI, or he was, by a year, but Hasibe tends to not quite connect with her generation. "--he gave me his number when his very inebriated female companions weren't looking."
Hasi hands the photos back and turns to open a tiny box on her vanity table, which contains...a considerable amount of small slips of paper. Napkins, post-its...at least one blank check...and what appears to be someone's receipt at a toy store, distressingly...but she takes one of the napkins, so that particular bit of bad judgment remains concealed.
"Did he give you his name?" Bellamy asks, holding his hand out for the napkin in question. They've actually got more than three names thus far, and that might mean something relevant or it might mean that someone should stop putting off that appointment to get their hearing checked. (Music doesn't even have to be loud for that; it's hard to listen to two things at once.) "Or theirs?"
He puts the photos away without looking at them again himself when she's done.
"Warren Lesser- he said he lived in Soho. The girls were Emma and Becky- Becky is probably short for something, but I don't know what." She presses the napkin into his hand and leans back just slightly so she can rest her elbow on the edge of her vanity table, tipping her head into her hand.
"I got the impression he was trying to look out for them- sort of a chaperone, you know. Having a big strong young guy like that with them would've seemed safe, so they drank as much as they wanted." She sounds quietly sympathetic, a little rueful all over again, because she just got a very clear picture of how well that worked out. "He must have fought."
Bellamy accepts that observation without confirming or denying it (but it doesn't look like he did and Bellamy doesn't expect to be proven wrong in autopsy), glancing down at the phone number in his hand. Safety in numbers is a good idea until it doesn't work, and the working theory is that they were knocked out first. So far they have no indication of sexual assault and that's- something.
Warren Lesser in Soho. Maybe they'll be able to track the girls down from there, too.
"What sort of a night were they having, from what you saw?"
"Good. Very good--actually--" She straightens up now, recalling a brief conversation she'd had with one of the women (Becky, she's pretty sure). The girl had been so drunk that Hasi couldn't entirely understand what she was talking about without prying psychically, which she usually tries not to do, especially for no reason, but now she thinks on it harder.
"One of the girls said they were going to 'miss it' if they stayed too long. I had to go back onstage, so I didn't hear what it was, but they had plans, and they were pretty excited about them. There aren't a lot of places a group like that would rather be than Alkahest on a weekend, so it had to be something big to get them out of the club."
Briefly wondering if he's going to have to ask his sister about her social life for work purposes - and not sure if he's kidding or not - he raises his eyebrows as the more realistic part of his mind goes in the same direction as 'lures'. "No, I imagine there aren't." If there was somewhere better, it seems like it'd make sense to have gone there first...making the likely explanations either a legitimate event taking place sometime later (he really is going to have to look up the London social scene), or something they were told about at the club.
Which could also be legitimate, but under the circumstances he's inclined to be cynical. Getting a hold of the security footage here, if they have to, will probably be a fucking nightmare. He tries not to borrow trouble.
"Did you get an impression about when they'd made these plans? Or see anyone they'd been talking to in particular?"
"Not long at all before they left- and no, not really, but the girls were out and about dancing, and the place was packed. I usually try to pay attention, but the stage lights, you can't see past them. They did head toward the side stairway on their way out, though, which is usually only used by employees."
Hasibe turns back to her mirrored reflection, picking up her hair brush with one hand.
"Do you mind if I--?" Keep getting ready, she means. The show must go on, police involvement aside, and she doesn't think it'll be disruptive.
Hasi shakes her head, adjusting her hair- doing this with someone in the room to watch her, especially a guy, is something she hasn't done in a long time, but it never bothers her. Bethany called her quiet, but she's certainly not shy, and she talks when she feels like it- when there's something to say. "No, but judging by the way the girls were walking, I would be surprised if they were in any shape to enjoy their theoretical destination; they were close to passing out."
She tips her head to the side and slides in a bobby pin, carefully, adding, "That's why I assume they didn't have any plans until the end- they wouldn't have gotten so drunk if they knew they were going somewhere else. Maybe I'm overestimating their planning skills, I don't know, but with that level of excitement, I'd think they'd want to be awake."
"It makes sense," he agrees; he's inclined to assume the same thing. "I'm getting the impression that Mr Lesser wasn't as inebriated as his companions when you spoke with them- is that right?"
Bellamy is not quite watching her, with a notepad in his hand and his eyes naturally wandering the room, but he's not deliberately avoiding her, either. He makes himself unobtrusive in her space and the best way to do that doesn't involve making himself awkward.
"He couldn't have had more than a beer," she says to the reflection of the man in the mirror, setting her brush down and reaching for a tube of lipstick. The edge of her robe slides over one shoulder as she moves, but she doesn't adjust it yet. "He was coherent enough to talk poetry to me, a little. Not totally fluently- he'd only read bits and pieces..."
When she thinks back, she remembers how it went, with some quiet sadness for a young man she didn't know that well and probably never would have, because she wasn't going to call him, but she liked him and his friends. And now they're dead- maybe it's sadness for something else, too, because there's a touch of a story she's not telling Inspector Morray, but if she's not saying, surely it's not relevant.
(She's just tired of people dying so much, that's all.)
"He was being complimentary- said 'I bet you have men fall in love with you girls on sight here all the time.' And I said, you know, teasing him- 'love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.' It's from Donne- he recognized it." She exhales in a little huff of rueful almost-laughter, mirthless. "I suppose that bit isn't really useful."
Poetry, rather than Hasi's shoulder, is what captures the first (probably only, this interview) glimmer of interest besides the professional. "'I could more abide she were by art, than nature, falsified'. At the moment, everything is interesting, Ms-" he pauses, glancing down at his notes, and then back up, "I'm sorry, I didn't get your surname."
He'll get her details, too, before he leaves, in case they have to talk with her again for one reason or another. For now, he's still asking his questions.
Bethany escorts Bellamy to one of a series of little doors, clearly labeled with its occupant's stage name, and knocks to warn the girl inside.
"She's kind of quiet, but I'm sure she'll talk to you- police and all," she says, with a small smile, and then raises her voice, "Norea, I'm sending an Inspector Morray in, then I've really gotta go get ready--bye, guys!"
She pushes the unlocked door open, and Bellamy can go inside as he likes. The dressing room is not large, but it is decently decorated and warmly lit- it has a tiny attached bathroom with a sink, the door to which is closed, a low-hanging beaded curtain to change behind that probably only reaches Hasi's collarbones or a bit below, a mirror and vanity table edged with lights and scattered with personal effects, a hook from which her coat hangs, a small portable closet for her costumes and day clothing, and an extra chair and tiny round table in case she has company. Like right now, although generally her company is not police-issue.
The young woman inside has her back to Bellamy and the doorway, but she's visible in the mirror- she doesn't look up, but she is aware he is there. She's dressed in a leather and lace (red and black, naturally) bustier, with matching garter belt, stockings, and heels, black hair tied half-back. She first ascertains that her belt is sitting the way she wants it to, and then reaches for the silk robe she brought from home- it's useful when she's interrupted, though most people don't warrant actually getting dressed. This is different. While slipping the robe onto her shoulders, she glances up at the mirror, observing her guest at this angle.
He'll come on in now, she assumes, without saying anything.
Reply
After pausing long enough to give her time to say 'come in' herself and ascertaining she isn't going to (it doesn't take long enough to be awkward), he does and pulls the door to behind him. An ability to give the impression of not noticing what someone looks like (while failing to actually miss anything) has always been useful to him and continues to be so now, as he gives her the same small, apologetic smile that he gave Bethany earlier.
"I'm Inspector Morray. Inspector Gillis and I are investigating murders that may have taken place near Alkahest," he says, soft-spoken and polite. There are other things about her he doesn't miss that can't be seen the same way as leather or lace, but for the time being that doesn't rate comment. "I've been told that you spoke with our victims; I'm going to need to show you a couple of pictures to confirm and ask you to tell me what you can."
Reply
Hasibe watches him in the mirror a little longer as he speaks, and then turns, because while she isn't going to say what she notices about him (besides the fact that he's cute, yes, certainly- murder tends to distract, however), she always has that knowing look in her eyes, and this time she's actually got a reason besides 'general tendency to look like that'. She doesn't hide it, but it's not really relevant, and sometimes this just happens.
Less often with her other witches, but their lines are- rarer. And mostly gone.
"You have my attention, Inspector. I hope I can help." The accent is decidedly American- a little bit Southern, actually. She tilts her head to the side and tucks her hair behind her ear, grateful, briefly, for her alias. While she knows it's got nothing to do with her, her past would perhaps justifiably arouse some suspicion- it's one thing to naturally look like trouble, but she doesn't want to be it in London so soon, not when she's worked so hard to try to start over here.
Reply
"I hope so, too." If Bellamy notices the look - if he has any ideas about why - then he doesn't so much as tilt his head. Instead he comes further into the room, producing the pictures from inside his jacket (leather, black, unfussy) and gesturing at the extra chair, "May I?"
He's not the sort to sit down without permission; he also habitually rises when a woman walks in, holds doors and remembers everyone's name.
Reply
"Of course." Hasibe sits, too, turning her chair toward him and tucking the hem of her (admittedly short) robe around her thighs, crossing her legs. Hasi takes the photos and looks them over, not quite wincing, but after the first moment, her expression smooths out in such a way that she's like a doll, completely inscrutable.
"Yes, I remember them. The boy--" Who's older than she is, FYI, or he was, by a year, but Hasibe tends to not quite connect with her generation. "--he gave me his number when his very inebriated female companions weren't looking."
Hasi hands the photos back and turns to open a tiny box on her vanity table, which contains...a considerable amount of small slips of paper. Napkins, post-its...at least one blank check...and what appears to be someone's receipt at a toy store, distressingly...but she takes one of the napkins, so that particular bit of bad judgment remains concealed.
Reply
"Did he give you his name?" Bellamy asks, holding his hand out for the napkin in question. They've actually got more than three names thus far, and that might mean something relevant or it might mean that someone should stop putting off that appointment to get their hearing checked. (Music doesn't even have to be loud for that; it's hard to listen to two things at once.) "Or theirs?"
He puts the photos away without looking at them again himself when she's done.
Reply
"Warren Lesser- he said he lived in Soho. The girls were Emma and Becky- Becky is probably short for something, but I don't know what." She presses the napkin into his hand and leans back just slightly so she can rest her elbow on the edge of her vanity table, tipping her head into her hand.
"I got the impression he was trying to look out for them- sort of a chaperone, you know. Having a big strong young guy like that with them would've seemed safe, so they drank as much as they wanted." She sounds quietly sympathetic, a little rueful all over again, because she just got a very clear picture of how well that worked out. "He must have fought."
(Unless he wasn't able to, she thinks.)
Reply
Bellamy accepts that observation without confirming or denying it (but it doesn't look like he did and Bellamy doesn't expect to be proven wrong in autopsy), glancing down at the phone number in his hand. Safety in numbers is a good idea until it doesn't work, and the working theory is that they were knocked out first. So far they have no indication of sexual assault and that's- something.
Warren Lesser in Soho. Maybe they'll be able to track the girls down from there, too.
"What sort of a night were they having, from what you saw?"
Reply
"Good. Very good--actually--" She straightens up now, recalling a brief conversation she'd had with one of the women (Becky, she's pretty sure). The girl had been so drunk that Hasi couldn't entirely understand what she was talking about without prying psychically, which she usually tries not to do, especially for no reason, but now she thinks on it harder.
"One of the girls said they were going to 'miss it' if they stayed too long. I had to go back onstage, so I didn't hear what it was, but they had plans, and they were pretty excited about them. There aren't a lot of places a group like that would rather be than Alkahest on a weekend, so it had to be something big to get them out of the club."
Like a lure.
Reply
Briefly wondering if he's going to have to ask his sister about her social life for work purposes - and not sure if he's kidding or not - he raises his eyebrows as the more realistic part of his mind goes in the same direction as 'lures'. "No, I imagine there aren't." If there was somewhere better, it seems like it'd make sense to have gone there first...making the likely explanations either a legitimate event taking place sometime later (he really is going to have to look up the London social scene), or something they were told about at the club.
Which could also be legitimate, but under the circumstances he's inclined to be cynical. Getting a hold of the security footage here, if they have to, will probably be a fucking nightmare. He tries not to borrow trouble.
"Did you get an impression about when they'd made these plans? Or see anyone they'd been talking to in particular?"
Reply
"Not long at all before they left- and no, not really, but the girls were out and about dancing, and the place was packed. I usually try to pay attention, but the stage lights, you can't see past them. They did head toward the side stairway on their way out, though, which is usually only used by employees."
Hasibe turns back to her mirrored reflection, picking up her hair brush with one hand.
"Do you mind if I--?" Keep getting ready, she means. The show must go on, police involvement aside, and she doesn't think it'll be disruptive.
Reply
"Please don't let me get in your way," he says, lifting one hand in a 'go ahead' gesture. "Were they with anyone that you saw when they left?"
Reply
Hasi shakes her head, adjusting her hair- doing this with someone in the room to watch her, especially a guy, is something she hasn't done in a long time, but it never bothers her. Bethany called her quiet, but she's certainly not shy, and she talks when she feels like it- when there's something to say. "No, but judging by the way the girls were walking, I would be surprised if they were in any shape to enjoy their theoretical destination; they were close to passing out."
She tips her head to the side and slides in a bobby pin, carefully, adding, "That's why I assume they didn't have any plans until the end- they wouldn't have gotten so drunk if they knew they were going somewhere else. Maybe I'm overestimating their planning skills, I don't know, but with that level of excitement, I'd think they'd want to be awake."
Reply
"It makes sense," he agrees; he's inclined to assume the same thing. "I'm getting the impression that Mr Lesser wasn't as inebriated as his companions when you spoke with them- is that right?"
Bellamy is not quite watching her, with a notepad in his hand and his eyes naturally wandering the room, but he's not deliberately avoiding her, either. He makes himself unobtrusive in her space and the best way to do that doesn't involve making himself awkward.
Reply
"He couldn't have had more than a beer," she says to the reflection of the man in the mirror, setting her brush down and reaching for a tube of lipstick. The edge of her robe slides over one shoulder as she moves, but she doesn't adjust it yet. "He was coherent enough to talk poetry to me, a little. Not totally fluently- he'd only read bits and pieces..."
When she thinks back, she remembers how it went, with some quiet sadness for a young man she didn't know that well and probably never would have, because she wasn't going to call him, but she liked him and his friends. And now they're dead- maybe it's sadness for something else, too, because there's a touch of a story she's not telling Inspector Morray, but if she's not saying, surely it's not relevant.
(She's just tired of people dying so much, that's all.)
"He was being complimentary- said 'I bet you have men fall in love with you girls on sight here all the time.' And I said, you know, teasing him- 'love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.' It's from Donne- he recognized it." She exhales in a little huff of rueful almost-laughter, mirthless. "I suppose that bit isn't really useful."
Reply
Poetry, rather than Hasi's shoulder, is what captures the first (probably only, this interview) glimmer of interest besides the professional. "'I could more abide she were by art, than nature, falsified'. At the moment, everything is interesting, Ms-" he pauses, glancing down at his notes, and then back up, "I'm sorry, I didn't get your surname."
He'll get her details, too, before he leaves, in case they have to talk with her again for one reason or another. For now, he's still asking his questions.
Reply
Leave a comment