A Peek Behind the CurtainThere is an undistinguished bar out deep in the center of New Haven. It’s set in the mechanical beating heart of the ambitious metropolis, underneath the Golden Sun bridge, It overlooks the New Haven river, carrying ships across it’s broad and wet shoulders, sailing to far and distant lands or just further up the state’s coast. Evening sun rays reflect out from the waters as the steady stream of cars make the bridge above shake and groan. It is a busy, normal end of work day rush home everywhere but this quiet enclave. Where only the bar’s enigmatic owner and a few gathered strangers to drink the night away.
This pub is unique in that it carries no sign bearing it’s name or trademark. If it wasn’t for the cars parked out front and the gathered people chatting outside, it’d be easy to mistake the business as closed for good. In spite of this, it continues to see business. Some moody rain trickles down from scattered rain clouds in the broken sky, which all seem to be hovering over this establishment and causing rain water to leak from the bridge above to make puddles down below.
This is the setting that two invited guests encounter as they make their way to the literal hole in the concrete wall of the city taproom. Making up the gathered crowd were the drunks, vagabonds and other peculiars who didn’t fit in the mainstream social crowds of New Haven. This shady den looked perfect for backdoor deals, a blank spot between city municipalities that the police didn’t have the resources to check. It was best to dart past the rough crowd and into the safety of the bar.
The inside of the bar doesn’t reflect the vacant and dim looking outside. It is more lively, with rich red velvet seats, low moody lighting, and a generous taproom with quite a selection of drinks from rare wines to beers. The guests here are more varied, some with nice three piece suits and a woman with a bright and passionate red dress. It was easy to assume these were higher up individuals in crime syndicates, even if they dressed like politicians. They don’t pay any mind to the riff raff coming into the bar, talking loudly amongst themselves, oblivious to the world outside them.
What is on our guests’ mind is the person sitting on the very edge of the bar, away from the noise. She is a tall woman with raven black hair. She wears a heavy pair of shades across her eyes, and a cigarette between two hands with a trail of smoke leaving her lips. A tight black suit with a bright red scarf on her chest gives her an enigmatic appearance. She is the woman described in the mysterious letters that brought these two different people together, if they remember correctly.
She has two empty seats on either side of her, freed up for the incoming guests. This is exactly as the mysterious letters described. One each given to the two detectives.
.You are of interest to us. If you want to put your skills to the test and make a difference in this world, come to the bar tonight. Alone. Tell anyone about this offer and the deal is forfeit. We are watching.“About time you showed up. It’s rude to leave a lady waiting.” She speaks to whoever was first on the arrival. “You’ll have to buy me a drink now, for being tardy.” The brunette has a wry smile and a relaxed tone of voice. She seems the type to take things easy, ride the waves and let everyone else do the work instead of her.
Behind the counter is the bartender, who finally has some moments of quiet for herself after a long work day. She too has been approached by this woman, told to stay close and hear what she has to say. Reasons as to why, she would not give.
Red Hood
