The Offices of Thalia Trimble, Private Eye - vol 1

The corrections officer escorts you into the long room which separates the public from the convicted with a thick sheet of bulletproof glass. He points you over to booth number four where a scared looking middle aged man in an orange jumpsuit waits to talk to you.

You take a seat and pick up the phone which allows you to hear each other. The moment he starts talking you can hear the pain and desperation in his voice.

"Thank you so much for coming down here. No one will listen to me. I swear I didn't do what they said I did but no one seems to be willing to actually look into it. I didn't kill that family! I know I don't have much to offer, but I heard that you are one of the good ones. Someone who is willing to help. I'll do anything if you look into my case. Please tell me you'll help." You watch this man closely. His eyes are watery, lip twitching, hand shaking. There is no hint of deception from him. Just fear.

You think back to what you know of his story from the newspapers. Andrew Lawson is a freelance biological engineer and inventor. He recently started marketing an invention which wasn't getting a lot of good press because it was... well... kind of squicky. He created a series of appendages which resembled octopus tentacles which could be applied practically anywhere on the human body. These tentacles are able to receive signals from the human user through electrical currents picked up through the mucus membrane they are covered in and generally constantly dripping all over the place while in use. The user can easily manipulate the tentacles just like an octopus and use their suction cups for a variety of tasks which Mr. Lawson sees as being highly practice in countless industries that currently use very expensive mechanical machines.

Lawson was taken in on murder charges after a family that lived across the street, and often complained about the loud and frankly kind of gross experiments Lawson did late through the night, was found murdered in their home. Mother, father, and their sixteen year old daughter where all found with their windpipes crushed and clear markings from suction cups around their necks.

Mr. Lawson's inventions had never really brought in much money. He wasn't able to afford a lawyer and had to rely on a public defender who had just passed the bar exam a month prior. The jury made their decision in about 20 minutes and Lawson was sentenced to life in prison.

The first time she'd come to visit an inmate, Thalia had been a nervous wreck. Well, truth to tell, it was a lot more than just the first time. Just hearing the locked doors slamming and locking behind her as she makes the long trek into a lockup is invariably unnerving, triggering an irrational fear that maybe, just maybe, they'll decide not to let her back out.

But now, so many of her cases have started from a conversation with a person in lockup, it's starting to become old hat. She's now over that paranoid fantasy of being trapped.

Mostly.

Holding the phone to her ear, Thalia's eyes and brain team up to slow down the visuals. She watches his eyes, cheek muscles, and lips for the fleeting expressions that often betray what a person is really thinking or feeling, regardless of their words. She sees nothing contradictory. Likewise, his head movements and body language all support what he's telling her that he is - an unfortunate man who's been wrongly incarcerated for a heinous crime. "I've been framed" is a well-used joke when making light of the protestations of arrested, and sometimes convicted, criminals, but in Lawson's case, it appears to be true.

"Mr. Lawson, I believe you. But before I make a decision about taking the case, I need you to tell me as much as you can about why someone would want to discredit you this way? More than that, why would they take the extraordinary step of slaughtering a whole family just to get you publicly denounced and put away?"

"Well I mean, my work was very important. If-- no, when it took off, a lot of businesses and powerful people would find themselves losing out to my Sticky Grippers!" Even without your powers it would be obvious he was lying. You could be blind, deaf, and in a coma and still be able to figure out Lawson didn't believe a word he was saying. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that. I never sold a single one. My invention is great. It works and has many useful applications, but I am the single worst salesman in San Espero. I've tried to tell myself to 'fake it until you make it, Andrew' but I still get laughed out of every business meeting.

"The truth is, I'm a nobody with no enemies. None of this makes any sense to me. People could have licensed my product. Cheap. I really cannot stress just how desperate I was. I would have done anything to make a sale." His eyes go wide. "No, no, no! Not anything. I wouldn't kill anyone, if that's what you were thinking. I just mean any bad deal to get my foot in the door. 90% equity in my company? Sure, whatever. Just please buy my product... I have no idea why someone would do this to me."

Thalia lets Lawson careen through lying to confessing, maintaining a stoic silence. She considers it an act of unmitigated compassion that she doesn't actually roll her eyes.

When he's finished, she says, "I see. Well, Andrew, I'm afraid I can't take your case, on account of having absolutely nowhere to start. I mean, by your own admission, no one was interested in your product, no one has anything to gain from taking you out... From where I sit, that makes it most likely this was some astronomically unlikely but random coincidence that someone used an octopus-adjacent tentacle weapon to murder your neighbors. Sorry I can't help. Good luck in your future incarceration endeavors."

She removes the phone receiver from her ear and starts to hang up, keeping her eyes on Lawson for a sign that he's ready to tell her whatever detail he's so far omitted, by design or accidentally.

Lawson's jaw drops and his eyes go wide. You can see his brain racing as it tries to come up with something to keep you there. Anything that will give him a chance. At the last possible second before you hang up the phone, something finally dawns on him and he motions with great need for you to put the phone back to your ear.

"I have loans. A pretty good amount of loans, actually. Do you think that maybe the banks would do something like this so they could get their hands on my patents? Is that something people do? Oh my god, what if they were using their muscle to sway people from working with me so they could pull off this little scheme?" He looks up with confusion. "That doesn't make any sense, does it? I mean, if they really wanted to they could have easily gotten their hands on my invention and reverse engineered it. I loaned the things out to pretty much anyone that showed any interest. Like those kids who wanted to make a monster movie or something. Never did get my early gripper prototype back from them. Goodness am I ever bad at this whole business thing."

Thalia, being a professional, suppresses a sigh. She actually thinks Andrew is bad at this whole life thing, not just business, but that's not a productive thing to say.

"Okay, so this prototype you didn't get back from the kids - what's different about the later versions? Like, could someone tell from looking at the marks the suckers made that it was that particular prototype that made them?"

Andrew scrunches up his face as he is deep in thought. "Perhaps. See the thing is, I've made a lot of prototypes. Lots of small and some big changes from each version to the next. You know Thomas Edison failed several thousands times before he got the light bulb right! The important part of trial and error improvements is tracking those changes. With an invention as complicated as mine, there are a lot of variables involved. You need to track everything so when you have a setback, you aren't sent back to square one. My lab notes should contain the information you need in order to understand all the differences between the version the kids used for their movie and my current working model."

Finally connecting the dots; Andrew looks side to side to make sure no one is listening and then quietly asks, "Do you think those high school kids could be responsible for this? Oh my god..."

"I don't think anything yet. Could be someone stole the prototype from them and that's why you never got it back. I'll look into it." Thalia is jotting down notes in her little notebook now. "What are the names of these high school kids? And where can I find your lab notes? I assume the cops took everything from your lab as evidence in the case."

"I don't remember all of their names. I might have it written in my notes. Oh man, I really hope I did. But the one I spoke with was Reuben Phillips. He is a bit of a geeky kid who lives a block or two over from me. He reminded me of myself when I was a kid. I was hoping if I loaned the grippers to him and his friends, I might be able to recruit him as an intern. He, uh... umm. When I asked, he said he wasn't interested and that his parents warned him to stay away from people like me. I'm not sure what he meant by that." You are able to tell that Andrew knows exactly what Mr. Holmes thought Lawson was interested in with his teenage son.

"The authorities confiscated everything. My life's work is probably in a landfill right now or sold off to the banks to cover my debts. This is all such a nightmare. But luckily, my lawyer has a copy of all of my lab notes. Emilia Howard. She should be able to help you clear my name. I know I can be a little scatter brained, but she knows this case backward and forward."

"Good. That's good." Thalia writes all of this furiously in the little notebook, underlining Reuben Phillips' name and adding Father - pedo concerns?

She's never heard of Emilia Howard, but any lawyer a guy like Andrew can afford is probably not a heavy-hitter. "Okay, I'll get in touch with Emilia right away. Now, Andrew.." She looks up, tucking the notebook into a pocket, and makes eye contact with him."I get that you're in dire straits with regard to finances and... well, job prospects and all. And I do sometimes take on pro bono work when the cause is just. But working a case entails expenses, so I need to know - is there anyone in your life who'd be willing to front some cash to help me get started? A loved one, a close friend?"

Somehow Lawson's already sullen face deflates even more. "Well-- I mean, yes. My financial situation may not be the best right now, but my sister Kate will most certainly step in to help if it means my name will be cleared." You get the feeling that Lawson believes what he is saying.

"She can be a little hard to get a hold of though. Kate is the head of R&D at Lloyd Laboratories and keeps a very, very business schedule. This whole ordeal has... hurt her career a little bit, I think. You know how office politics can be right? She, uh, hasn't had time to return my calls lately." Everything reads true except for the last sentence regarding Kate not having time to return his calls. This is an outright lie. "But I am sure if you called her office and explained the situation she would be willing to talk to you." Andrew is quite uncertain of this statement. No super powers needed to see that.

"I'm sure she will." Thalia smiles at Andrew. The guy might be lying, but he's mostly trying to delude himself, not her. He's been convicted of murder and has no legitimate reason for hope. The last think she wants to do is kick the chair out from under his feet.

"Okay, I have all I need to get started. Look, Andrew. I know things are rough in here. Try and keep your head down and your mouth shut, okay?" The likelihood of this singularly undisciplined man being able to live up to that compels her to add, "And if you get in a situation that you need some help, look up a guy named Constantine Blake - Big Con, they call him. He owes me a favor. Tell him Thalia said helping you out makes us square. But only go to him if you really, really need his help, got it? I don't like wasting markers."

"You mean you're really going to take on the case? Oh my god, thank you so much Ms. Trimble! You have no idea how grateful I am." His face goes a little white when you mention Big Con, but he nods in acknowledgment. It is clear that he is familiar with the felon and absolutely will not be bothering him if he doesn't have to.

The same correction officer from before leads you out of the visitor area and you collect your personal items before leaving. You mentally review the information Andrew provided as you walk to your car. You start up the engine and the dashboard clock reads 2:35 PM. Which lead will you be pursuing first? Or do you have any personal tasks to attend to before getting to work on the case?

Eyeing the clock, Thalia decides that it's more urgent to look up Emilia Howard than anyone else. Wherever she finds her, Emilia can probably give her a phone number for Andrew's sister and she can call to see if the woman will meet her for a drink.

She looks for a phone booth that hasn't had the phone book stolen out of it and finds Emilia's listing. She finds the address and calls ahead to make sure the attorney can meet with her before heading to her office.

Emilia Howard's secretary keeps you on hold for a few minutes, but eventually says that Mrs. Howard will be able to meet with you around 3:30. When you arrive, she eventually invites you into her office closer to 4:15.

Mrs. Howard is in her early 30's and you immediately get the impression that she is not the type to waste time. Papers are stacked high all over her desk and the ground surrounding it. Her eyes show just how exhausted she is, but she tries to put on a smile when she asks if you would like anything to drink.

"I'm told you are here about a client of mine." She moves a few sheets of paper around until she finds the one she is looking for. "Mr. Andrew Lawson?" She says the name as if this is the first time she has ever heard it. "I hope you understand that I am limited by client confidentiality in how much I can comment on Mr. Lawson's case. How exactly can I be of service?"

Thalia declines a drink with a smile and sits in the offered chair in front of the desk.

"Mr. Lawson has retained me to look into his case, see if I can find any evidence or leads the cops missed. He told me that you would have a copy of his lab notes. I need to see everything you have; if you have any copies of the evidence that was presented at the trial, that would be extremely helpful, too."

Ms. Howard listens and nods along as you talk. At the mention of Lawson's name her eyes shoot up and to her left giving off the impression that she is trying to remember something. It soon becomes evident that what she is trying to remember is the very existence of Andrew Lawson. She holds up a finger as if to say 'please hold' once you finish speaking, giving her the chance to skim over a few of the papers in front of her. Something she reads finally lights the bulb over her head and you see real recognition for the first time since you entered the office.

"My apologies. I am rather new to the job and my case load can be overwhelming at times. I'm not sure if it is hazing the new guy or if San Espero is in desperate need of more public defenders. I know this isn't an excuse, but I did not have a lot of time to prepare Mr. Lawson's case before going to trial. If we're being perfectly honest, I was only made aware of the case minutes before we entered the court room. A motion to delay was denied and-- You spoke with Mr. Lawson, yes? Then you know as well I do that he does not do much to help himself.

"But putting his sham of a trial aside; I have since had a small amount of time to review some of his notes. The judge and jury thought the case was open and shut, but something has never sat right with me about it. I haven't read everything Mr. Lawson wrote. Not even close to it. If words could be hoarded, he would certainly be guilty of that. I'll have my people contact Mr. Lawson and get the OK to release the files to you. Assuming everything goes smoothly, I could get copies to your office by lunch tomorrow. While my knowledge on his case is regrettably limited, is there anything else I can do to assist?"

Thalia listens to the attorney's response with disappointment, though not with surprise. She'd been crossing her fingers for a little more involvement in the case; Lawson was one of those clients who could either annoy you into ghosting him or trigger feelings of protectiveness like a lame puppy. But public defenders are invariably overwhelmed with cases, so she'd known that this hope was a variety of pipe dream.

"That all sounds great, thanks. Would you happen to have a phone number for Mr. Lawson's sister, Kate? I know she works at Lloyd Laboratories, but I was hoping for a home number."

After either getting the number or not, she stands and shakes hands with Mrs. Howard over the desk. "Thanks so much for your time. Oh, and it's not hazing," she says with a sympathetic smile. "If anyone tells you it'll get better, keep your guard up with them - they're selling something."

Emilia looks over her paperwork and shakes her head. "I'm afraid I only have her work number. And even that I would have to get Andrew's permission to give out, since it is it is a direct line. I wish I could be of more help." She does not look you in the eye as she says it. Her eyes are busy scanning the sheet again and again. She's lying.

The lawyer gets up to see you out of the office and you receive a genuine smile of gratuity at your warning. She suddenly stops and holds up a finger telling you to wait. Emilia grabs a business card and a pen. She quickly scribbles a phone number onto the back before handing the card to you.

"I am always in the market for a talented PI to give me an edge in the courtroom. Sadly, I cannot rely solely on the evidence the PD digs up. That's my personal number on the back. Give my admin a call and we'll work out the details to get you on retainer. Have a nice day, Ms. Trimble."

You don't need Emilia's hint to clue you in that she did not write her own number on the back of the card. Your powers see through the 'lie' without issue. Sure enough, when you dial the number you are greeted with "Kate Lawson speaking."

Thalia thanks Mrs. Howard and promises to call later to work out a retainer arrangement, just as she's meant to. Anxious to call the number sooner rather than later, she decides not to drive to her office and instead goes to a downtown coffee shop that she knows has a working phone booth.

She orders a Coke in the bottle and waits as the woman behind the counter pops off the cap with a bottle opener. The graceful lines of the glass bottle are cold and slick with condensation. She carries the bottle to the phone booth and closes the door, pulling Emilia Howard's card and setting it down. She puts in the required change and dials the number, taking a swig from the bottle as she waits for someone to pick up.

When Kate Lawson answers, Thalia says, "Ms. Lawson, my name is Thalia Trimble. I'm a private investigator looking into your brother's homicide case. I'd really like to speak with you. Is there a chance we could meet for a drink this evening?"