Jun 8, 2019 2:14 pm
Operation ALICE
Δ The Agents have been granted clearance (temporarily or through their actual jobs) to assist the FBI in the collection and typing of evidence from a location of interest in an interstate missing persons case.
Δ A symbol was found at this location which is associated with demonology and the occult.
Δ The Agents are to investigate the location and determine if an unnatural influence is behind the disappearance.
Δ If it is, it is to be stopped or destroyed.
Dossier
Δ Temporary FBI identification for all Agents.
Δ The Abigail Wright police file.
Δ The Abigail Wright FBI file.
Δ A New York Post article on the case.
Δ The address of the Macallistar Building, and a set of freshly made keys to the general areas of the building and Abigail’s apartment, stamped "DO NOT DUPLICATE."
Δ A photograph of Abigail Wright taking a photo of herself, out of focus, a sticker on the photo reads, "WRIGHT, A. 1-JUN-94."
Missing Artist Prompts New Fears in Rose Hill
From the New York Post, 10 JUL 1995
By Raymond Diaz
For those that knew up-and-coming artist Abigail Wright, her disappearance from her co-op apartment in Rose Hill sometime in and around June 4, 1995, remains a complete mystery. Authorities have been frustrated in their efforts to track the young woman’s whereabouts following the last known sighting of her, near her apartment at E. 32nd Street and 2nd Avenue. According to an anonymous source familiar with the case, early leads have collapsed, leaving a cold trail. Now, a month on, the NYPD only says it is no closer to locating Ms. Wright.
This source also intimated to the Post that a strange and disturbing collection of items had been found in Ms. Wright’s apartment which was locked from the inside, including "medical supplies, books, machinery and other, less identifiable objects." Her neighbors maintain that all was fine with Ms. Wright, and nothing out of the usual had occurred to indicate she was in danger or planning to leave.
A rise in break-ins, muggings and assaults in the neighborhood has been noticed, prompting community youth leader Anthony Scott to comment: "It is well known in the neighborhood that after 5 P.M., the sidewalks roll up, and the police are nowhere to be found, particularly on foot." Scott says that people walking around after dark in the area are watching their backs, or should be.
Did Ms. Wright somehow fall foul to this rise in crime, or did she suddenly leave, telling no one of her plans? At this point, chief detective Graham Giuradanda of the NYPD says, it is impossible to tell.
Δ The Agents have been granted clearance (temporarily or through their actual jobs) to assist the FBI in the collection and typing of evidence from a location of interest in an interstate missing persons case.
Δ A symbol was found at this location which is associated with demonology and the occult.
Δ The Agents are to investigate the location and determine if an unnatural influence is behind the disappearance.
Δ If it is, it is to be stopped or destroyed.
Dossier
Δ Temporary FBI identification for all Agents.
Δ The Abigail Wright police file.
Δ The Abigail Wright FBI file.
Δ A New York Post article on the case.
Δ The address of the Macallistar Building, and a set of freshly made keys to the general areas of the building and Abigail’s apartment, stamped "DO NOT DUPLICATE."
Δ A photograph of Abigail Wright taking a photo of herself, out of focus, a sticker on the photo reads, "WRIGHT, A. 1-JUN-94."
[ +- ] Summary of NYPD and FBI Case Files
Abigail Laura Wright (Caucasian female, 27 YOA), a successful fine artist, is missing from her apartment in Manhattan. She was last seen four days before she was reported missing on 4 JUN by her father, Nassau County police officer Thomas Wright (Caucasian male, 51 YOA). Wright pulled strings to get the NYPD immediately involved. Abigail lived in Manhattan for seven and a half years, and in that time, only went to the police once, to report a mugging in 1994 (unsolved). Besides this, she has a distinguished academic record and an impressive list of credentials and former clients. Late last year, her first show was held at the Mercury, a trendy art gallery downtown on Franklin Street. She managed to sell fifteen pieces, and with this money took a half-year off to paint.
Six months later, she disappeared on — as best the authorities can guess — 1 JUN 1995. When the police opened her studio in the Macallistar building at East 32nd Street in the Rose Hill neighborhood of Manhattan on 4 JUN, they found a baffling tableaux. What once was a modest apartment had become an obsessive-compulsive’s dream. Every available surface was covered in junk, glued or taped to the walls. Only the floor remained clear, the rug yanked up to reveal a battered linoleum surface. Among the junk were sets of dentures, partial dentures, a 1940s wheelchair, some modern and antique artificial limbs, dozens of shirts, shoes and briefcases, assorted radios spanning several decades (some still operational), all manner of jewelry, earrings, rings, and necklaces, and thousands of papers of all designs and ages, some in Spanish, Mandarin, and even a college economics report in Farsi. Almost all these items were glued to the wall with a fast-setting, cheap, full-bond epoxy. Prior to this, Abigail had been a fastidious young woman not given to accumulating odds and ends. Beyond the stripped floor and missing furniture, they were no obvious signs of a struggle or any other sort of violence, and the neighbors offered no useful testimony. Detectives investigated several leads, but uncovered nothing. The apartment remained a crime scene and was visited four times by the NYPD, and only twice by detectives due to backlog.
Two months later, on 4 AUG 1995, Abigail’s credit card was used in Patience, Maryland, to purchase a pack of Old Gold cigarettes, and the case was given to the New York FBI as a possible interstate kidnapping. The FBI re-examined the tenants of the building and Abigail’s associates and friends, and came to the same dead end which stopped the NYPD. The employees at the gas station where Abigail’s credit card was used had no particular recollection of the transaction and did not recognize Abigail from photographs; the signature on the receipt was her name, but not her handwriting. The gas station had no surveillance cameras.
Six months later, she disappeared on — as best the authorities can guess — 1 JUN 1995. When the police opened her studio in the Macallistar building at East 32nd Street in the Rose Hill neighborhood of Manhattan on 4 JUN, they found a baffling tableaux. What once was a modest apartment had become an obsessive-compulsive’s dream. Every available surface was covered in junk, glued or taped to the walls. Only the floor remained clear, the rug yanked up to reveal a battered linoleum surface. Among the junk were sets of dentures, partial dentures, a 1940s wheelchair, some modern and antique artificial limbs, dozens of shirts, shoes and briefcases, assorted radios spanning several decades (some still operational), all manner of jewelry, earrings, rings, and necklaces, and thousands of papers of all designs and ages, some in Spanish, Mandarin, and even a college economics report in Farsi. Almost all these items were glued to the wall with a fast-setting, cheap, full-bond epoxy. Prior to this, Abigail had been a fastidious young woman not given to accumulating odds and ends. Beyond the stripped floor and missing furniture, they were no obvious signs of a struggle or any other sort of violence, and the neighbors offered no useful testimony. Detectives investigated several leads, but uncovered nothing. The apartment remained a crime scene and was visited four times by the NYPD, and only twice by detectives due to backlog.
Two months later, on 4 AUG 1995, Abigail’s credit card was used in Patience, Maryland, to purchase a pack of Old Gold cigarettes, and the case was given to the New York FBI as a possible interstate kidnapping. The FBI re-examined the tenants of the building and Abigail’s associates and friends, and came to the same dead end which stopped the NYPD. The employees at the gas station where Abigail’s credit card was used had no particular recollection of the transaction and did not recognize Abigail from photographs; the signature on the receipt was her name, but not her handwriting. The gas station had no surveillance cameras.
[ +- ] The NY Post Article
Missing Artist Prompts New Fears in Rose Hill
From the New York Post, 10 JUL 1995
By Raymond Diaz
For those that knew up-and-coming artist Abigail Wright, her disappearance from her co-op apartment in Rose Hill sometime in and around June 4, 1995, remains a complete mystery. Authorities have been frustrated in their efforts to track the young woman’s whereabouts following the last known sighting of her, near her apartment at E. 32nd Street and 2nd Avenue. According to an anonymous source familiar with the case, early leads have collapsed, leaving a cold trail. Now, a month on, the NYPD only says it is no closer to locating Ms. Wright.
This source also intimated to the Post that a strange and disturbing collection of items had been found in Ms. Wright’s apartment which was locked from the inside, including "medical supplies, books, machinery and other, less identifiable objects." Her neighbors maintain that all was fine with Ms. Wright, and nothing out of the usual had occurred to indicate she was in danger or planning to leave.
A rise in break-ins, muggings and assaults in the neighborhood has been noticed, prompting community youth leader Anthony Scott to comment: "It is well known in the neighborhood that after 5 P.M., the sidewalks roll up, and the police are nowhere to be found, particularly on foot." Scott says that people walking around after dark in the area are watching their backs, or should be.
Did Ms. Wright somehow fall foul to this rise in crime, or did she suddenly leave, telling no one of her plans? At this point, chief detective Graham Giuradanda of the NYPD says, it is impossible to tell.