[h2]Adam Temple, Sonja Wickler & Theo Rautenbach[/h2]
(Cowritten with [@Tackytaff] & [@Terrans])


There was some considerable suspicion about letting the trio into the police station.  The two officers stationed out front were carrying long rifles and clearly expecting trouble and eyed the group menacingly as they made their way up the steps.  Temple tipped his hat politely, and it seemed one might have recognised him as their was a visible relaxing of tension, "Good day officers.  I'm here to see Officer Leonhard Faerber again."

There was an exchange of nods, between the pair then the one who seemed to have recognised Temple opened the door into the lobby, "Wait here," he instructed, making his way into the busy interior of the building.  It seemed to be swarming with uniformed officers in the state of hive-like business you might expect during a crisis.  The officer at the desk gave them a wary look, but didn't say anything.

"Faerber, unfortunately can't properly investigate this case," Temple muttered under his breath, his voice only carrying to his companions, "The political unrest in the city is consuming all their resources... though its busier in here that the last time I was in.  There did seem to be an unusually high presence of Freikorps on the streets."

"Well it's not as though he could give us any less information."  Sonja replied just as quietly, brow furrowed and arms folded across her chest as she stared down the officer manning the front desk.  "Is this Faerber being paid by your people? Or just eager to share information with any good Samaritan?"  Theo remained  at the rear of the trio. Giving a reinforcing tug of his jacket; making sure his shoulder holster was still covered, “Does it really matter? It’s not as if he has a reason to hide the facts.” Theo countered.

"It doesn't," Sonja admitted with a shrug.  "I just wonder what motivates a lawman to believe in..."  Her hand waved noncommittally, "All this."

"A few people have become aware of our association over the years," Temple replied quietly, "Often they are in police forces. A detective may find an unexplainable case and choose to enlist our expertise.  They are the people most often required to stare into the eyes of the strange, terrible and unexplainable," Temple replied, "And come up with a safe, rational explanation... while remaining, perhaps, unsatisfied themselves."

“So we are a convenient solution then? Taking care of a problem out of sight and out of mind. All without wasting their resources.” Theo sounded slightly affronted. Whether at the fact someone would shirk their duty or the thought that people knew and didn’t care about this side of the world ; was not apparent.

"Everyone is stretched thin these days."  Sonja remarked impassively.  "Cases being rushed or passed over is hardly new, especially with victims such as ours." Her gaze shifted towards her two companions. "If we are the only ones willing and able, so long as we end it, that would be satisfaction enough I think."

There was a click of booted feet on the floor announcing the appearance of an officer in a blue almost-military uniform with a black police shako on, "Ah Mister Temple," he greeted him.

"Officer, Faeber," Temple returned the greeting.

"Any news," Faeber asked, cutting straight to the point.

Temple shook his head apologetically, "We are still in the preliminary stages of our investigation, but I wanted to ask if we could see the files you have on the first dead man?"

"Of course," Faeber didn't seem at all put out by the request.  Grateful, perhaps that someone was taking an interest, "Sirs, Madam, if you will follow me."

A few minutes later they were standing inside a dusty office with high barred North facing windows.  It smelled slightly damp and was awash with files.  Open cases that Faeber had, it seemed, had not closed... at least not to his satisfaction.  He went behind his desk, lifting a half-filled filing box from a shelf, before depositing it on the desk in the middle of them, "This one... there's photos from the crime scene... oh and this," he held up a small canvas bag with a  string tie, tipping out the contents - a silver coin, "It's a medieval groschen.  Clutched in the dead man's hand.  Let me know if you need a hand finding anything."

Theo picked up the coin. Holding it the light with interest. He didn’t have the slightest education to place its origins but he rubbed a finger of the metal anyways. Feeling the indents beneath the remaining fingers of his left hand.

"Can I take a look?" Temple asked, holding a hand out before holding the old coin up to the light, "1529," he paused, turning it over, "one batzen... Ernest of Bavaria. Hmm," he passed the coin to Sonja, scratching his chin thoughtfully, "I can't imagine you find those around very often."

“1529… Tell me. Does this secret social club of ours have records that go back that far? Perhaps, if there were attacks that stopped on this date?” Theo scratched his chin in thought.

Temple nodded, "There are archives. It's worth taking a look. It's also worth doing a dive into folklore to see what a coin might be used for."

“Might have to let someone else do that. Not really keen on the books.”  Theo looked slightly abashed; maimed hand rubbing sheepishly at his neck.

While the men took turns examining the coin, Sonja began shuffling though the photos in the box. Only, she hadn't seen the scene fresh enough to make any notable comparisons, and the photo quality with her deteriorating sight made the attempt equal parts futile and frustrating.  Eventually the batzen coin made its way to her hand, where she turned it over once, then twice before giving a single nod in agreement of their assessments, "Historical interest in the Roman Empire isn't uncommon, especially in Munich, it may have been part of a collection." She offered with a slight grimace, not fully believing the coincidence but preferring over Temple's reference to folklore.

The coin and photos were returned to the desk in-front of  Theo, freeing Sonja's hands to reach for a file from within the box. "We'll add it to the list of research. For now, officer, could you tell us whose decision it was to list dogs as the cause of injury?" She asked Faeber, anxious to steer the conversation in a rational direction.

"The [i]Polizeirat[/i] indicated that was his opinion and that we should let the matter rest," Faeber lowered his voice, realising he was being, perhaps, a little mutinous, "The rise in political violence is the main priority for policing."  

Sonja's frown deepened as she began rifling through the file pages.  "He is so certain the murders are not extreme acts of political violence themselves? That they will not lead to more?"

"The people dead or disappeared are not politically active," Faeber replied, "They are, shall we say, invisible. Nobody has been damaged by their deaths and no group is seeking to profit. This also makes it easier for the [i]Polizeirat[/i] to close this case unsatisfactorily. But I still hope there can be justice found."

[hr]

[h2]Nicola Hoffman[/h2]

"Mister Rudeanu," Nicola replied, "Speaking as a woman, albeit not one who has turned to such a shameful way to make money as most of our victims, I can tell you I certainly would not be in this graveyard after dark."

"Even were I not concerned about disturbing the resting dead, there are too many dark shadows.  Any manner of unsavoury person could be lurking in the darkness and I would never see them."

[hr]

[h2]8pm,  Saturday 3 November 1923, The Cabaret Club[/h2]

The scarred bouncer was still at the door from the night before, but this time he let the group through without protest or comment, in down the strange and spooky corridor, into the Headquarters of the Night Watch.

There was, of course, brandy.  Temple smoked a cigarillo quietly, leaning against the mantlepiece above an unlit hearth as he waited for everyone to assemble.  He appeared lost in contemplation, letting the smoke swirl up around him, his shoulders relaxed.  Eventually, when it seemed that all of the group were there, he spoke up, "So... what have we all to report?" he asked.

"Those of us who went to the police station found the city's police overwhelmed and unable to deal with whatever is occuring around the graveyard.  Political violence is on the rise and there appears to be an unusual number of paramilitaries in the city at the moment.  The Officer working the case was reasonably sure this was not related as the victims were not politically active.

"We saw some photos of the crime scene," he looked to Sonja and Theo, as if checking to see if their opinion was different before adding, "They didn't add much.  The Police did, however, find a coin from 1529, which apparently the first victim had in his hand.  I have done some reading and I believe the cemetery was first constructed in 1563 for victims of the plague."

He paused, taking a drag from his cigarillo, holding it for a moment before letting it out, "I have a theory some of you may find... discomforting, but first, what did the rest of you find at the Asylum and in the Graveyard?"