Guess Who — Roleplayer Guild

 
Name’s Robert Fallson. I’m a student from Beacon training to be a hunter, and I’m currently searching for a murderer. It all started a few hours ago. It was late at night, a little past eleven o’clock, and the rain was coming down hard. I held my gray fedora on my head to keep it from blowing away while chewing on a toothpick between my teeth. My gray trench coat flapped wildly in the wind as I approached the building. A jewelry store that I had passed by with Priscilla a few days ago. I had noticed her eyeing one specific necklace and I had come to get it for her Birthday. The store was closed of course, I didn’t have the money to buy such an expensive gift, so there was only one thing I could do. Steal it. In my defense, I planned on paying the owner back for the damages and the gift in monthly payments. After disabling the security systems, lock picking the door, then the display case, I finally had my prize. I walked out of the store, holding a small gift bag with the necklace inside. Several lamp posts were out causing the street to be shrouded in darkness, the rain and the late time kept everyone inside their homes. It was perfect  conditions for a murder.

I saw him lying in the middle of the street. At first, I thought he was just some drunk that decided to take a nap in the middle of the road. I walked over to wake him up so he wouldn’t get run over by some late night driver. It was when I turned him onto his back that I noticed he was covered in his own blood. Cause of death: hit-and-run. Multiple times. No way was this an accident. It must have occurred when I was inside the store, the sound of wind and rain pounding against the windows keeping me from hearing what happened. The victim’s scroll began to ring as it received a call, but I was too occupied by the gore in front of me to answer it. I suddenly had the urge to check the body’s pockets, hoping to find a clue to who murdered this man and why. I was only able to read the name on his driver’s license, Mr. Mercury, before I heard the familiar sound of sirens. Two cops ran towards me from a patrol car that was stopped in the middle of the road. Obviously having no car to commit the murder with, it wouldn’t be too hard to prove my innocence, but I had stolen merchandise on me, so I ran. I’d had enough run-ins with the heat in the past to know how to get away quickly, and soon was looking with more detail at the contents of Mr. Mercury’s pockets. I held: one wallet empty of cash, a scroll, and a room key for a nearby hotel. I decided to check the phone first. Luckily, it was not password protected and I was soon looking through his personal information. The only thing that had stood out to me was a scheduled meeting with someone named Pepper at Billy’s Piano Bar. I began the short walk there.

The neon sign outside the bar made the words “Billy’s Piano Bar/Open 24 Hours” glow like the signal of a lighthouse during a storm. I spit out the toothpick that I had been chewing earlier and replaced it with a new one. Before walking inside, I stuck up the collar on my coat and lowered the rim of my hat so I could better hide my face. Walking into a bar when under the drinking age wasn’t the best idea, but I needed information from this Pepper person. The sound of live music could be heard, even before I opened the door. When I was inside, my nostrils were assaulted with the smell of liquor and cigarette smoke. I made my way to the bar to talk to the bartender, hoping he would be able to point out which of the late night drinkers was the man I was looking for. The overweight, friendly bartender was striking poses into a mirror as if he was a movie star or celebrity.

He saw my reflection in the mirror and quickly turned around, an almost contagious smile on his face. “What’ll it be?” he asked.

“I’m not thirsty, thank you. I’m actually looking for someone. A friend of mine named Pepper. Have you seen him?” I replied, lowering my head so as to not let him see my face.

His smile switched to a frown as he replied, “Yeah, I know that ol’ vet, he’s a regular. Pepper said he was waiting for a friend, you must be him. I’m sorry though, you just missed him.”

“Dang, he doesn’t seem to be answering my calls and I don’t have his current address. You wouldn’t happen to know where he lives do you?” I asked. At this point I was grasping at straws, what were the chances that the bartender would know where one his customers, even a regular, would live.

The bartender’s face suddenly brightened as he said, “You’re in luck, sometimes Pepper’s too drunk to drive himself home so I’ll give him a ride. Here’s his address.” He pulled out a napkin and a pen, wrote the address, and handed it off to me. I had begun to fish around my wallet so I could give him a tip, but he refused to accept it. I thanked him and left the piano bar, making my way to Mr. Pepper’s home.

The walk to Mr. Pepper’s home was cold and wet. The weather was definitely getting on my nerves. I could hear the sound of a record playing music as I stood in front of the door. It was as I was replacing the toothpick in my mouth with another one that I saw a large insect crawling near my foot. After crushing it beneath my shoe, I finally knocked on the door. 

The music suddenly stopped and a gruff, but older sounding voice answered, “Hello? Who’s there?”

“My name’s Robert, I’m here about a mutual friend of ours,” I replied.

“You mean Freddie?” There was a short pause before the sound of several locks being turned. The door opened and Mr. Pepper stood there. He seemed to be around the age of sixty, but he still had some very large muscles. It was a somewhat strange sight to see. “Here, here. Come in, come in,” he said, rushing me through the door. “Don’t mind those guys, they’re quite friendly,” he said, pointing to a terrarium next to me. As I looked inside, he pointed to each of the three beetles. “That’s Paul, there’s George over there, and here’s Ringo. John seems to have disappeared so watch your step.” A sudden feeling of shame and regret hit me as I realized where John had disappeared too. If I showed any emotion to the killing of this man’s pet, he didn’t notice. “So what about Freddie? You know why he never showed up?” Pepper asked.

“Yes, Mr. Pepper, I-” I began.

“Please. Call me Sgt. Pepper,” he interrupted.

“Alright, Sgt. Pepper, I have a few questions for you. Where were you at eleven o’clock this evening?” I interrogated.

“Wait, what? Why? Did something hap-” he started.

“I’ll be asking the questions here, Sergeant. Now tell me!” I shouted. Felt good to be on the other side of an interruption.

“I- I was here. Getting ready to go see him. I even have evidence to prove it,” he said, pointing to several security camera in the room we were standing in. He pulled out his scroll and started playing the security footage. Music began to play in the background as the Sgt. Pepper in the video searched the room for something, most likely his missing beetle. Sure enough though, the timestamp read that he didn’t leave until after the time I had found the body. Sgt. Pepper wasn’t the man I was looking for.

“Why do you have so many security cameras?” I asked.

“To catch those no good rocking horse people of course. Bastards keep stealing my marshmallow pies,” he responded casually.

Hearing Sgt. Pepper’s less than sane answer, I had the sudden sensation to immediately leave. “Thank you for your time. I’ll be going now.” After reaching a comfortable enough distance, I sat down to think on what to do next. That’s where we are now. Still unable to figure out who murdered Mr. Mercury and still unable to prove my innocence. The rain is still coming down, so to protect my hands from the cold, I stick them into the pockets of my coat. My hands grasp an unfamiliar object. I pull it out to find it to be Mr. Mercury’s room key. It’s my last lead. I read the name and address of the hotel, spit out my current toothpick, replaced it with another new one from my pack, and made my way there.

As the building came into view, I realize that calling it a “hotel” is insult to hotels everywhere. The thing’s run down to the point where not even cockroaches wanted to be there. I walk inside the main lobby where a bird faunus, most likely an eagle, sits watching television. He doesn’t want to be here as much as anyone. The loudspeakers in the lobby try to play music, but their age and constant use make it sound extremely quiet. I walk over to the faunus. “Excuse m-” I begin.

“Welcome to the Hotel yada yada yada. Such a lovely place, such a yada yada yada. If you’re hear to check out a room, write your information on that paper on the desk. Otherwise, don’t bother me,” the faunus says.

I wonder why so many people have been interrupting me today as I go to navigate the hallways, looking for Mr. Mercury’s room. I eventually find the room that matches the number on the key and open it. The first thing I notice is music. That meant someone was here. I quietly take a few steps forward, but a creaky floorboard gives me away.

“Whu- who’s there? Show yourself,” a feminine voice calls out with a faint accent that I couldn’t place. No longer seeing any point in hiding my presence, I comply with the voice's demands. A woman stands in front of me wearing lingerie and standing in front of the bed, obviously nervous about my intruding. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” she demands.

“I’m Robert. I’m investigating a murder, and your presence in the victim’s room is pretty suspicious,” I reply. Again, I blame someone who I have absolutely no evidence to prove they did it.

“F- Freddie’s dead? And you think I did it?” she says, shocked. She sits down on the bed, her face full of surprise. “But it wasn’t me. I swear.”

“Mr. Mercury was run over by a car at around eleven o’clock this evening. Now I’ve been all over this darn city, and I expect some answers. So, unless you’ve got an alibi to prove your innocence, you’re the only one on the suspect list.”

“I would never hurt Freddie, let alone kill him. I- I loved him. I’ve been here all day. Please, you have to believe me.”

“So that’s it, huh? A crime of passion. You loved him, but he loved someone else, so you had him killed. If you couldn’t have him then no one could.”

“No! It isn’t like! that I swear!” she says, tears beginning to roll down her face. “I- I’m not going to take this from some kid. I’m calling a cab and leaving, you soulless bastard!” she screams and begins to walk toward the door.

I block her path though. “A ginger joke, huh? Like I haven’t heard those before. Well I’ve got news for you, miss. Since yo- wait. Did you say you’re going to call a cab?”

“Yeah. I can’t afford a car. Why?”

“I’m convicting you for a hit-and-run and it never occurs to you that not having a car to commit the crime with makes you completely innocent?”

She opens her mouth a raises her hand as if she’s about to say something, but stays quiet for several moments. “... Oh, yeah. Um… Oops?”

I groan at my misfortune and take a seat on the bed. “You don’t know anyone who’d want to have Mr. Mercury killed?”

“No. Everybody loved Freddie. He was friends with everyone he met,” she replies. She thinks on her word for a moment though and then adds, “Actually, there was one guy that didn’t like him. He was a loan shark that Freddie owed money to. I think his name was Mr. Jackson.”

I exit from my state of self-pity and look up hopeful. I have a lead again. I just have to find this Mr. Jackson guy and it was all over. I could feel it. I thanked her for the information and apologized for accusing her before running outside. I was tired and needed somewhere safe to rest, so I ran into a nearby alley. I layed down to rest in a pile of discarded newspapers, knowing they’d help conserve body warmth, and used a large cardboard box to keep out the rain. I spit out the last of my toothpicks and let sleep begin to take me. In the morning, I’d bust this case wide open.

I was not awoken by the rays of the morning sun. Instead, it was the sound of someone’s scroll’s ringtone. A high pitched but male voice answered the call. “Mom? Not right now, I’m doing something important.” A short pause and then, “No, I can’t talk right now.” I rolled out of my makeshift bed and stood up. The rain was still coming down. “Great, now he’s awake. Mom, I gotta go. ‘Bye.” The man, wearing a red jacket with black stripes and a single glove on his right hand, pointed a small handgun at me. “Sorry kid, but you got to close. Don’t worry, I’ll be sending you company soon. Namely the bartender at Billy’s, Sgt. Pepper, that eagle guy in the lobby, and that hooker in the hotel. Gotta cover my tracks completely.”

“So, you were the one who killed Mr. Mercury. Why? What’d you have to gain?”

“He owed me money. He had enough to pay me back, but not enough to continue living if he gave it to me. So I took it by force. Looks like it wasn’t really worth the effort considering the clean up, but it’s too late now. Say goodb-” Suddenly, his scroll began to ring again. “Um, can you just wait right there? I need to take this.”

“I got nothing better to do.”

“Thanks,” he said before answering the call. I stood impatiently, not really paying attention to the call. Eventually, he finished. While putting his scroll back in his pocket he said, “Sorry about that, you know how mothers are.”

“Actually, my parents were killed when I was eight.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that. Well-” He stopped mid-sentence as he now looked up at me. While he was looking away, I had activated my bracers and now had both pointed straight at him.

“You should know that when I had been getting up from that ‘bed’ over there, I had snuck my hand in my pocket and turned my scroll on to record our conversation. You’re done Mr. Jackson.”

The murderer knew he had been caught and dropped his gun, deciding it to be best to live a life in prison then die to a kid. I called the cops and explained that my running away from the scene of the crime as simply me panicking, allowing me to get away with the gift I had gotten Priscilla. I walked back to Beacon as the rain began to die down and the sun began to peak over the horizon.
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