[h1][center]Hana | [color=FFD700]Valeriya[/color] | [color=f7976a]Bang[/color][/center][/h1]

The officer started at Hana’s sudden approach. Up close, it became apparent that most of the aura of authority that emanated from him was due solely to his outfit. With short, curly hair poking out from beneath his helmet and olive skin with an oily sheen, he must have been from the Mediterranean region of the Occident, a rookie officer who struggled with the restlessness of adolescence and the exhaustion of adulthood. Certainly, this appeared to be a low priority enough area that no senior officers were available to see that he was doing his job properly, but going by how he had tucked his pant legs into his boots (in this climate, even!), perhaps he was the type to be oddly strict with himself.

[b]“Oh, uh,”[/b] he said, voice cracking slightly as he fumbled for his radio device. [b]“I can’t really leave my post, Miss, but I could call for someone else to help if you’d like?”[/b]

“There’s no time for that,” Hana snapped back, keeping up her momentum with a relentless verbal assault.  “What if someone finds it and takes it?  This is my first day here and I already lost my ID and money and what if I can’t even get back into my dorm?  What if I didn’t misplace it and it was that person who bumped into me earlier…”  She chattered on, making her most persuasive case that she needed attention right now.

The officer pursed his lips as Hana brought up a barrage of relatively logical concerns. He wasn’t too certain of Bermuda’s procedures and wait times for making new IDs for students, but the presence of a possible thief wasn’t something that he could ignore either. He cast another look at the relatively emptied-out area that he was standing before, and then let out a sigh. Drawing out his notepad and pen from his breastpocket, the young man nodded.

[b]“Alright, deep breaths, Miss. When did you notice that you’ve lost your wallet? And do you remember any details of the person who bumped into you?”[/b]

She had his attention, but getting him to budge might be more trouble.  Hana did do her best to subtly move away, pulling the officer that much further from his post, as she made her effort to calm down.  “I noticed it was missing maybe fifteen minutes ago,” she began, still distraught.  “I’ve been walking for hours, so it could be anywhere.”  Making up details for a person would be harder, but she could at least avoid implicating someone among her immediate group.  “I don’t remember much.  I think they were about my age.  A young man with light hair?”  Any uncertainty and thoughtfulness on her part weren’t from trying to remember, but it wouldn’t be out of place, anyway.  

[b]“That’s not much to go off of,”[/b] the officer said, looking at how sparse his notes were. Weren’t Polymaths supposed to either be geniuses or superninjas? Well, there was no point in dwelling upon it. Now that he was committed, backing out would be naught but a stain upon his badge. [b]“But that’s still doable. For now, let’s backtrack. Could you show me what path you took to get here? Were there any shops or restaurants that you’ve patronized?” [/b]

“That sounds good.”  Hana begins walking, leading the officer back the way she came.  “I was doing some shopping around here, and I did stop for lunch somewhere earlier.”  She could even describe the place.  No point in lying there.  Regardless, the coast would hopefully be clear for the others to proceed.  

[hr]

Bang wrinkled his nose as the two left, taking the opportunity to clear his nose with a coarse exhale. He lifted the tape for Valeriya to move under. [color=f7976a]“After you.”[/color]

Well, that was impressive. Valeriya noted that she’d have to genuinely thank Hana for doing so well later. Of course, that was with the mental note that the girl was a good actor and a liar, it seemed. Regardless, she ducked under the tape with a nod to Bang and began to look over the crime scene, going for the gunshot areas first.

Really, this wasn’t exactly her area of expertise, but knowing the properties of firearms as well as basic physics would get her far enough. Probably.

Her examination of the marks that the bullets made in the surrounding area made a few things clear enough for Valeriya. It was likely that the steampistol used a self-contained compression device rather than a larger exterior one. For self-defense purposes, such a weapon may be good for warding off thugs, but it certainly wouldn’t be ideal for killing a target. With some simple arithmetic as well, she could ascertain the direction from which the shots were fired, an issue made easier in part to how each of the five marks she found appeared to fan out in ways that almost seemed impractical.

Under the presumption that they were aiming to hit someone running on the road, it seemed unlikely that they would opt to aim for a shot angled high enough to strike a lamp, or low enough to strike the street.

Bang remained a few steps behind her, inhaling deeply in search of any further trace of that seawater scent. [color=f7976a]“Any luck, Miss Valeriya?”[/color]

[color=FFD700]“The pistol used an internal compression system. Compact, but it wouldn’t kill. Not easily, at least. The shot groupings seem…random. Whatever this was, it certainly wasn’t a serious attempt to kill someone. A frame job, perhaps.”[/color] Valeriya frowned, having become deeper entwined into this mess than she wanted to be. 

[color=f7976a]“Pushing her away from a location? Or luring her towards?”[/color]

[color=FFD700]“Likely towards, supposing that our Frenchwoman didn’t actually burn down the library. Which I’m unfortunately starting to suspect is looking more and more likely.”[/color]

Another sniff, now pointing towards a trail. It would be simple to just follow it but Bang had to keep his company in mind.

[color=f7976a]“Is there, ah, any chance of narrowing down the shooter’s location from the trajectories?”[/color]

[color=FFD700]“There is, yes.”[/color] Valeriya nodded, starting to do the mental math necessary. Based on the angles of the gunshot impacts…hm.

[color=FFD700]“The shooter fired from the side of the street over there.”[/color] She pointed. Really, this was like some sort of botched back-alley hit job in some shithole like Kiev. [color=FFD700]“Will this be all that you need from me? I’d gather you could relay all this back to the others easily, and I still owe Hana a meal.”[/color]

Bang raised a surprised eyebrow. [color=f7976a]“Oh? I didn’t think your curiosity would have such limits. Well, if there’s somewhere else you must be.”[/color] He bowed his head lightly. [color=f7976a]“Thank you for your assistance, Miss Valeriya. I hope we can meet again soon.”[/color]

[color=FFD700]“Of course, of course.”[/color] Valeriya nodded insincerely, wanting nothing more than to wash her hands of this nonsense and get the hell out of here. The mad Frenchwoman could burn, for all she cared. She had her own mission to get back to. [color=FFD700]“I hope you’ll repay the favor someday. But for now, we should both be making ourselves scarce before the policeman returns. Until next time, Sir Bang.” [/color]

Valeriya smiled and turned to leave, walking off in the direction Hana had gone in with the policeman. Time to bail her out.

The Egoist watched her leave before tossing another glance at the points of impact. Favor? Rather presumptuous of the girl. Given enough time he would have come to the exact same conclusion. Faster even, with what his senses were telling him. Ah well, it helped to have others confirm his suspicions. Bang made his way to where Valeriya was indicating - the same place the scent trail was leading.

Here, the scent that he followed seemed to have settled, intensifying in the stench of the ocean’s depths. The heat of the afternoon sun had evaporated any shadow of last night’s fog, but the persistence of the smell was still curious. After all that movement, it had stalled here, of all places. And more curiously, what did this smell even belong to, so potent that it existed as a trail, where even Jeanne herself only had a small whiff of it in her hair despite having spent the entire night outside.

If any passersby were to see Bang, they’d assume he’d fallen asleep on his feet. He scrunched his eyes harder, hoping for any mote of concentration that would lead him further down the trail. It was no good. The scent stopped here. With one sense used to its limit, he exercised another one, looking around the area and prodding with his cane for any sort of clue the shooter may have left behind.

If any passerby saw Bang, and they most likely would, considering how fetching the young idol of Vietnam was, they were more likely to be puzzled as to why he was past the cordon to begin with. Was he more rebellious than imagined? A surprisingly bad boy side to someone who was otherwise a paragon of courtesy and etiquette? Well, it matter not what they saw, but rather, what he saw. In the absence of any new evolutionary traits, Bang’s natural human senses had only continued to sharpen and expand, allowing him to pick up the minute differences in the coloration of the cement that sealed together the blocks of stone that formed the sidewalk. Months of fog and humidity had darkened the sealant, and though what physical evidence had been swept up already by the investigative force, the Vietnamese Egoist could envision the shape that had once been there.

It was just a suggestion, extrapolated by lighter lines, but combined with what he already knew, Bang could forward a simple enough hypothesis. The gunman may have been standing when they shot their bullets, but they were [i]lying down[/i] for most of the night, their body shielding this patch of the ground from the salty fog.

Even more questions were being raised here. He examined it a little longer, trying to narrow down the physical build of whoever laid there. After that, he crouched down where the patch was. The idea was to match the shooter’s perspective that night, what exactly they had in their line of sights and, if possible, what their visual priorities may have been.

The physical build was hard to make out, beyond the obvious statements of how they appeared neither incredibly large, nor incredibly small. The finer details could not be made out, especially if Bang began to take into account the clothing that they may have worn. As he dropped closer however, the outline that the Egoist had examined looked odder and odder. The four limbs were splayed out in four directions, while the lumpy extension that must have been the head was positioned the furthest away from where the bullets had been coming from.

Crouched, Bang had a good view of the intersection, especially the portion where Jeanne would have been coming from. But that view was still distant, and if the mysterious gunman wasn’t an Egoist (likely, for no Egoist would deign to use a gun when a blade would suffice), how could they have even known of Jeanne’s approach beforehand? And that was before he could even continue to consider the ‘final’ position that the gunman ended in. Jeanne had said she had not pursued them, so why was [i]this[/i] posture the one that was marked upon the lines of cement?

Indeed, could her testimony even be trusted?

Bang’s expression of concentration was replaced with outright befuddlement. He turned to look in the direction opposite of where Jeanne would have been, sniffing for traces outside of the seawater now. Blood, perhaps.

Nothing to be gathered. With all the information he could collect, and more and more passersby likely to start speculation of him sniffing around a crime scene, Bang decided to concede and finish his investigation for now.

It was going to be one hell of a debriefing for the rest of the team.