#Lore24 – Entry #291 – Sentinel City by Night #17 – Dealing with Delia
From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator
“Try to get a day’s sleep, and all hell comes crashing down around you. I was stirred out of my slumber by several message alerts on my phone; it was barely after sunset. Forcing the remnants of my slumber away, I looked at the messages, the first from Becky with a link to Delia’s latest article, and several from Sokolova demanding I contact her immediately. Shit.
I checked my computer first, saw no further copies of Delia’s messages, my connection to her system still offline, so not an equipment problem. Then I checked the article, and could my blood run colder, it would have. “Shadow Government Controls Sentinel City! Vampire Cult in the Lead!” the headline proclaimed. She’d been busy since her last big piece, or someone else had fed her quite the healthy dose of intel. The article started off talking about the murder at the Paragon, then spun some yarn about it being an escalation after Dollface had been taken down by the rest of the cult, targeting someone in retaliation. Seemed a stretch. Photos were something else, though, taken from far above; had she been in the ductwork? She even caught me when I had been examining the scene with Walsh and Blumenthal.
The really damning stuff came after, when she tied it into Sokolova’s operations. Emmerson didn’t name names, not yet, but had started painting a picture of something akin to an organized crime operation, infiltrating the upper levels of city government, guided by the hand of the vampire cult’s leaders. She proclaimed my involvement with the police to cover up evidence, mentioned how all it took was one word from a powerful member of this shadow government to get a SWAT team called on the killer after they had stepped on their toes while the police had done nothing to stop the killer beforehand, how some of the most powerful positions in the city were part of the cult. She had photos of Sokolova’s building, the Light’s Hope Chapel, and Kyou’s arthouse, with promises to reveal more in her next article, to expose the corruption.
Fuck.
My phone rang. It was Sokolova. Beginning to think she had my place bugged, was watching me with how good she was at her timing. Took my licks like a good soldier. Her tongue may as well been a whip with how she lashed me with it. Whatever I had planned tonight was on hold. Emmerson had to be dealt with, and it had to be me that did it. I had until sunrise.
My brain was already working on how to repair the damage, but that all hinged on getting Emmerson out of the picture first. I had my false sources still in play, perhaps; likely whoever had revealed I’d hacked her system had exposed those, too. How had they known, though? Another hacker? Becky? Someone else just as good? No, gotta focus on the main job first.
I threw some messages out through my false sources, trying to get her attention. Also added another six random emails to the mix, but one of the new ones had some juicy bits tied to it. My neck was already on the chopping block; might as well go all in. Named myself in that one, told her I was working for the head of the ‘cult’ and that I was actually related by blood to the Dollface killer; not a lie, that. Gave her a few more details that should entice her into a meeting. Gave her a time limit, too; if I didn’t have an answer from her by midnight, I was gone with all my information.
Took about an hour, but she responded to that one. We sent some messages back and forth, I gave her a few more details to sweeten the pot, told her I had a whole dossier ready to hand over that would give her all the juicy bits. She was playing it more cautiously, so she must’ve had some inkling of what it was she was getting involved in. I suggested a dead drop in a public place; I wouldn’t reveal myself but would stick around to make sure she picked up the package before I left town, otherwise I’d take it with me. She agreed; I’d make it work; sent her the details and a time.
Picked a place that was public, but not too public for my needs. All I had to do was meet her eyes. Picked a steakhouse down by one of the shopping malls, plenty of people around to dissuade any foul play. Got the package ready, just a bunch of old junk articles and notes I had stuffed here and there from twenty years back, some random bad photos that hadn’t turned out, that kind of thing. Nothing anyone could get anything out of. I got there on the double, dropped it behind one of the toilets in the women’s restroom after I’d slipped inside. Set myself up near the back and waited.
She was there on time, looked a little paranoid. Probably would have made a good ally if she hadn’t stepped on the wrong side of the line. Watched her pass by my hiding place near the restrooms; she passed within a couple feet of me and never had a clue. She went inside, I followed. I let her pick up the package, then when she turned I was there. Her eyes widened. I tapped into that swirling madness that we Malkavians loved so much, and I dumped all I could into her poor mortal brain, stoked the embers of what was already hiding in her subconscious.
Then I was gone.
Delia started screaming before I slipped out the back. Would make for one hell of a story: “Up and Coming Reporter Goes Crazy in Family Steakhouse!”. My next stop was her apartment to scrub her records and add to the story, mess her place up to match the lunatic behavior she had just started to experience. Would probably need to visit her office as well, make sure she didn’t have anything left behind there. Would fill Sokolova in on the details when I was done, let her handle how the story would develop from the foundations I’d set up; she seemed the type to have friendly media on hand.”