Reginald Keystone
Location: The Ferry (Sun Deck -> Elite Deck)
Skills: N/A
The shock of the second in the most recent of misadventures to befall Vera was still fresh on Reginald, try as he might to maintain his proper and dignified sense of British stiff-upper-lippedness. The older man figured that it wasn't anything that couldn't be cured by a warming beverage and bit of quiet, though that would hardly be of any use to Vera at this juncture. It was not until he heard a call from below, in the distinct voice of Mr. George Benaszewski, that he allowed himself the luxury of not bracing himself for the worst of news. No amount of warming drinks nor quiet would have been of comfort then. She was the reason they had a mission in the first place, the reason why he hauled himself from his office for one last adventure. For that matter, Vera was one of the last, few reasons that Reginald bothered with drawing oxygen into his lungs at all.
Gene's insistence that they go to the Cargo deck to check on Vera, while notably absent of sociable effort, was a capital idea. Whatever argumentative nature he had earlier, however gentlemanly he might have been planning to phrase it, had been tucked away for now. Petty squabbles were
supposed to be beneath him, anyway. And the American lady did have a good idea. With these points in mind, Reginald responded to Gene with an affirming,
"Yes, yes of course." and began toward the shorter staircase leading from the Sun Deck down to Elite.
It was a simple showing of papers, though it did surprise him a little that they would ask for papers going
down. Tight ship, he suspected, as a Captain must keep to protocol regardless of little idiosyncrasies. Leaves no room for error among the guests nor subordinates. One deck down, a few more to go, as the Lord Major had nearly the entire ship to traverse before locating Vera.
Haring Reddish
Location: The Ferry (Elite Deck, Josephine's Stateroom)
Skills: N/A
Indeed, to the average fellow, it looked like the room had been untouched. But interestingly enough, Corporal Haring Demetrius Reddish was never, and I mean
never in his life been referred to as average. Not to the point that he somehow instinctively knew what might or might not have been taken by whomever was visiting uninvited while they were away, but enough to note that someone had indeed been in there. The door was also a pretty obvious clue. First things first, however: Take stock of the room's contents itself.
Reddish began to quietly scan the room, soaking up detail and listening to Josephine provide her own accounting of things being amiss. Eyes narrowed, a mental inventory being taken of what was in the room that did not show up on individual manifests; personal items, sundries, and the like. In the case of Josephine, it was finery in the form of clothing and jewelry. The theory being, if Reddish intimately acquainted himself with the style and quality of her belongings, it might stand to reason that, if similar was spied elsewhere on the ship, he might consider that a point to investigate later. Naturally, he had to take a look for himself. But first, he holstered his sidearm.
It was like he was a different sort of man for that moment, quickly and efficiently ticking through personal effects. His voice, casual and confident, hummed to Josephine as he went about work rare to a field Corporal.
"Heavens no, Madame. A lady's pearls are sacred. Particularly pearls such as yours. I say we locate the culprit and ensure his hasty incarceration in the Cairo Prison. There are many a reprobate there who might pursue hasty pelvic entertainment involving the chap's eyesockets." A dry laugh later, and the Corporal found himself thumbing through the various silks and cottons and satins, velvet, fur, or what have you that made up the whole of Josephine's wardrobe.
"Tasteful, Miss Clarke. Very. If you would will pardon my familiarity with your belongings, it is my belief that if your pearls were moved but not taken, then the culprit was looking for something highly specific, and likely rummaged through everything else of your in the process. One never knows where an identifier might have been left." Satisfied that he had learned what he could at that time from Josephine's garments and jewelry, he instead focused his attention to details of he room itself. Nonetheless, commentary such as
"Ah madame, that silk number with the keyhole neckline would look absolutely smashing on you. Of course, you would know that, being as you bought it and whatnot, but that is a lovely garment, if you don't mind my saying, Miss Clarke. Just lovely." Okay,
that sounded a bit more like the Corporal.
"But begging madame's pardon, if I may risk sounding like less the gentleman for it? That after-hours clingy nightshift is absolutely marvelous. Really, I'd bloody applaud, I would, if this situation wasn't so serious. It would be an absolute thrill of a lifetime to be lucky enough to catch a passing glimpse of yourself in it." His eyes widened, seemingly at the open frankness of his dialogue.
"My sincerest, Miss Clarke. I go beyond the boundaries of comfortable conversation at this late hour, and it is doubly inappropriate considering my presence in your stateroom, as it were. Very apologetic, Miss. Crosses a line. Upon the termination of the emergency, I shall be forlorn (but accepting) if you require my absence, quite." He sighed and nodded, resolving to accept this eventuality with dignity and grace if it was pressed.
Oh! But watch that step, Miss Clarke! Unless I miss my guess, there's a mark upon the floor that was left by whomever blundered in here uninvited, madame." Sure enough, a rather largeish scuff mark was left upon the floor that practically begged to be examined further, altogether to large to have come from a bootheel.
