Mal tapped his pen, and Jaelle slipped back into the transmuted staff like a genie in a bottle. Neatly he slid it into his shirt pocket and adjusted his glasses as he reviewed the corpse one final time. It wasn't as reliable as one of those spy glasses one saw in movies, but it saved a 'picture' of the corpse in his glasses to be saved in a way for a later date. He walked over to his vehicle, a stylish red ford fusion, and drove off at Eleanor's behest. 

He drove off out of the countryside, past Lake Pontchartrain. He let the windows down as he drove, his glasses glinting in the sun. Jaelle tended to stay in the staff when he drove, because they found that the physics of her floating was centralized to the earth's rotation, not a moving car. She would need to truly concentrate to treat the car as the 'physical realm' she was attached to. If not she would have to fly and catch up to him, so it was good to keep her in the staff unless they had something to talk about. Though she had merely poked her top half out of a staff before, adorably making herself miniature sized while she did so. 

Once he and Jaelle reached the Sunday Group headquarters, Mal strode in, adjusting his jacket and taking out his pen, and once he passed through the glass doubledoors at the front, the pen wheeled betwixt his fingers three times before transforming into an arcane staff, nearly five feet of obsidian topped with a bloodstone that held Jaelle and a few extra tricks he had conjured up and kept in there in case of emergencies. He passed by the lady at the front desk and gave her a deft wink, lowing his glasses for but a moment before sauntering into their offices, her giggles audible until the door closed behind him. 

Taking his glasses off, he stepped into his personal office and found the scrying stone he kept, picking it up and taking it out to the center of the first floor. Lightly placing it on a desk, he gently applied the glasses to the stone and drew a summoning circle with erasable chalk, using the magic the Sumerians called [i]Zisurru[/i]. As he uttered the words in the language of the ancients, a picture began to form above the stone.

"Abnum muda'um abartum, subulum naplusum." He revealed, and before his eyes was a picture of the corpse, able to be viewed from three hundred and sixty degrees from any angle, as long as the chalk remained in place. He gave a smile, admiring his handiwork. 

"The things I do for these people," he deadpanned. 

[hider]Mal took Jaelle, went back to the office, and made a magical version of a 'hologram' to be viewed of the corpse.[/hider]