Shadow of the Waxwing Slain, Ch. 1

Case of the Courthouse Bombing

May 23, 2023

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Chapter 1: Case of the Courthouse Bombing

closeup photo of raindrops — Photo by Julius Drost on Unsplash

It was raining. Water drizzled off the tarp that flapped in the wind, dripping on the back of Fletcher’s duster as he sat on a stool at the noodle counter, lit by a dirty yellow lamp, slurping the remnants of the bowl held up to his mouth.

The proprietor, a short Japanese man wearing a white apron looked over Fletcher’s shoulder with concern.

Red and blue lights reflected off the chrome counter.

Fletcher didn’t bother to look.

“They here for you?”

Fletcher shrugged.

“Fletcher!” A voice called out from behind, one he didn’t recognize.

The chef went into the back, out of sight.

Fletcher didn’t respond, finishing his meal.

A couple steps closer. “Eddie Fletcher?”

“Who’s asking?” He said, turning to look.

“Your new partner,” said the woman behind him. She was tall and wiry, standing as if at attention, arms crossed behind her back. Her trench coat was getting drenched in the rain but she didn’t seem to notice or if she did, she didn’t care. Her eyes seemed to dig into him.

The police spinner behind her was spinning red and blue lights.

A new partner and she’s a replicant, Fletcher thought.

“Interesting,” Fletcher said, standing up and stretching. “What’s the case?” It must be something important for her to have to come get him.

“Didn’t you hear the news? A bomb went off outside the courthouse. Holden wanted us in his office an hour ago. Don’t you check your messages?”

Fletcher shrugged, throwing his hood on. “Must have missed ‘em.” He followed the woman back towards the spinner.

They got in, her in the driver’s seat.

Fletcher looked out at the giant glowing neon advertisements, made bulbous and strange through the raindrops on the window, as they took off. “You know my name but I don’t know yours and if we’re going to be partners, that’s a problem.”

“You could just ask me my name instead of talking around it,” the woman replied, staring straight out the windshield.

Fletcher looked at her.

Those cold eyes glanced at him, without expression.

He raised his hands in a defensive gesture. “Fair enough. What’s your name?”

“You can call me ‘Dee’.”

A few moments passed in silence.

“You think this is gonna work, you and me?” Fletcher asked. “As partners, I mean.”

“Why wouldn’t it? Do you have a problem with me?” Her voice had an edge.

“No, not at all. I was just wondering if you had a problem with me.”

“You’re old and not in adequate physical shape,” she replied. “But you are my assigned partner, and I shall do my job.”

Fletcher smirked. “You’re blunt. I like that.”

“I do not care what you like.”

“Physical abilities aren’t everything on this job, you know,” he said, still smiling. “Sometimes there’s problems you have to think or talk your way out of.”

“Based on this conversation, I am not confident that thinking or talking are strengths of yours either.”

“You never know. I may surprise you.”

“The chances of that are low.”

Fletcher chuckled, shaking his head. “We’re gonna get along great, you and me, I can tell.”

They rode the rest of the way in silence, weaving between skyscrapers, heading towards ‘The Tower’ in the distance, LAPD Precinct 995, a gigantic metal box the Rep-Detect Unit called home.

Holden stared daggers at Fletcher, as the ceiling fan spun, sending cigarette smoke swirling. “Next time, I expect you to pick up when I call, understood?”

Fletcher nodded.

Holden grunted. “This is why you need a partner.” He nodded at Dee. “This bombing is a real shit show and I need answers fast, before the city devolves into riots and anarchy.”

The bombing had happened less than 2 hours earlier, not far from LAPD HQ, outside the LA Courthouse.

Holden passed over the file. “Not much in there. Empathy Movement protest, bomb exploded. A few unhelpful witness testimonies. A few in the Movement are claiming it was the work of an N9. You know the job, find who did it and bring them in.”

“Any wounded, casualties?”

1d6 = 4: Yes, but…
1d10 = 6

“Yeah six injured but no deaths, luckily.”

Can Holden give us any more info? 6 = Yes And…
(BR:RPG)Randomly-generated clue: Anonymous tip, a phone call.
(BR:RPG)Randomly-generated Person of Interest: Glamorous Actor, Gabor Nanjiani

“One more thing, might be nothing but we got an anonymous tip, a phone call about a person of interest. They claim Gabor Nanjiani was involved.”

“The actor?” Fletcher asked, surprised. “How would he be involved?”

Holden shrugged. “Beats me, look into it. We need this solved and fast. Tension is high on both sides right now. We need to get this done. Find out if it really was the Underground or some maniac, whoever it was. Take them in. Before the city tears itself apart.”

“Understood.” Fletcher took the file and they stood to leave.

“One more thing,” Holden said. “The Wallace Corp is breathing down our necks about this. They’re concerned about retaliation against their property and want to be kept in the loop. They’ll also provide resources. Obviously if it was an N9, which they claim is impossible, it would be very bad for business. They want to see this investigation completed as soon as possible. One or both of you should head over there and meet with Quell, their PR Manager.”

“Understood,” Dee replied and they left Holden’s office.

They found a couple spare desks to set up.

Fletcher grabbed a cup of coffee.

“Shouldn’t we head to the crime scene?” D asked, looking at him.

“It’s always good to take a few minutes to think through what this is before we head out.” Fletcher asked, taking a seat and sipping his joe.

It tasted like burnt cardboard.

“So what do we got?” Fletcher asked.

“There was an Empathy Movement protest down at the courthouse earlier today.”

“A pro-human, anti-replicant group, who can get very worked up very easily,” Fletcher said.

“I’m aware,” Dee replied. “At approximately 3:47pm, there was an explosion in the midst of the protest. People ran, six were injured and brought to a hospital. Officers responded and secured the scene. Now they’re waiting for us,” She said, staring at Fletcher. “While you drink your coffee.”

Fletcher took another sip of coffee. “Members of the movement claim it was an N9 that did it.”

“Impossible,” D said, crossing her arms.

Fletcher shrugged. “I’m just stating what’s been said. What are our questions in this case?”

“Who blew up the bomb and why,” D said, sounding annoyed.

“Also, who made the bomb? Who benefits from this explosion? Who planned the protest? What else was happening at the courthouse? Why do Empathy Members claim it was an N9? Who witnessed this? Was the perpetrator alone or did they have help? If not an N9, who else could have done it?”

“The Underground.”

Fletcher twisted his mouth. “I suppose but it’s not like them to strike like that. Lots of people are going to think it was them, all it does is damage their reputation.”

“Damage their reputation as a terrorist organization?” Dee tapped her foot. “Fine, maybe it was a lone wolf. An inferior model with a grudge.”

“Maybe. Or an anarchist looking for any kind of crowd. Or even the Empathy Movement themselves to gather support for their cause.”

“We could sit here all day theorizing who it could’ve been or we could go to the damn crime scene,” Dee snapped.

Fletcher finished his coffee. “Nice to finally see an emotion out of you, Dee, let’s go.”

Shift 1: Night

Crime scene, LA Courthouse

Blue and red lights pulsed in the drizzle. The tall, glass square structure of the courthouse loomed in the darkness, a few fuzzy lights on as clerks, lawyers and others worked through the night.

The courtyard in front was barricaded by temporary fencing with officers behind, making sure people stayed back. Only a few hangers-on were here, on the edge, watching.

The officers let the two detectives through to the scene when they showed their badges.

There were remnants of the protest, discarded signs, bottles, clothing and trash left behind.

There was a makeshift stage closer to the building, with a microphone and speakers that hadn’t been touched by the blast.

The officer in charge stood by a large hole in the ground, 5-6 feet in diameter, scorch marks all over the pavement around it.

Fletcher had a plastic cup of coffee in his hand, having refreshed it at the office before leaving, much to Dee’s annoyance.

“Fletcher,” one of the responding officers nodded as he walked up. He glanced at Dee but blatantly ignored her.

“Tell me what we got,” Fletcher said.

D took pictures while Fletcher listened to a rundown.

People started arriving for the protest around 2 and 2:30, the event officially started at 3.There’d been a police presence due to the size of the protest and concerns about safety. The protesters were rowdy but nothing too unusual. Then, a sizable explosion sent people screaming and running. Officers responded, called for backup and medical assistance. In the chaos, it’d been difficult to discern suspicious individuals or suspects in the area.

Fletcher took his time checking around the area, seeing if there was anything forensics missed from the scene.

First roll! Observation. D10 from Intelligence and D10 from the skill itself. Need a 6 or higher on either die for a success.
2d10 = 1,5. Failure.
Push the roll and reroll the 5. I can’t reroll the die that came up with a 1.
1d10 = 7. Success! But I do take 1 stress from that 1 I rolled previously.
As for the result, I went with something that made sense to me.

Fletcher blocked out the lights, the sound of the rain, and the presence of the other officers, Dee included. He carefully and methodically moved through the crime scene, scanning with his eyes to find any hint of something that’d been missed.

Moving a sign that said “Not Human! not Alive!” carefully aside, he found a few blue plastic fibers on the ground. Slipping gloves on, he bagged and tagged it.

“What is it?” Dee asked.

Fletcher shook his head. “Not sure yet. Hopefully material from the explosive.” He called Dispatch and let her know evidence was coming in. He passed the baggy to an officer and told him to deliver it back to headquarters.

“We done here?” Dee asked.

Fletcher nodded. “I want to speak to the Empathy Movement victims, in the hospital. Probably better to do that…” He looked at D.

“Alone,” Dee said. “I could check the Esper, see if cameras caught anything before the blast.”

“That’s a good idea but you should go to Wallace Corp first. They’ll want an update.”

Dee looked away.

“Is that okay?” Fletcher asked.

Dee looked back. “It feels like a waste of time. I don’t see how they can assist with this investigation.”

Fletcher sighed. “It’s not really about that. It’s about keeping them happy. If they aren’t happy, Holden ain’t happy. This could be a PR disaster for them. We need to at least make them think they’re in the loop.” He shrugged. “I don’t like it either but sometimes that’s what the job is.”

“I understand.”

Dee walked towards her Spinner.

Fletcher gestured to his KIA, a sort-of mini-computer each detective had which allowed them to keep in touch with each other, headquarters, as well as a few other digital tools and access to information. “Keep in touch,” he said.

Dee didn’t respond.

Fletcher wondered why she didn’t want to go to Wallace Corp. Wouldn’t it be like going home…sort of? Kind of? Would it? He wondered as he got into his Spinner. He realized he had no idea what a replicant going to Wallace Corp would feel like. How does it feel to return to the home of your creator?

Shift 2: Morning

University of LA Medical Center

(BR: RPG) Randomly Generated Weather: Smog

The rain had fallen off, replaced by a hazy smog just as the sun was rising above the horizon.

Fletcher landed in the parking lot of ULA-MC, LA’s top hospital where the victims had been taken and took a moment to make a phone call.

“Eddie?” a feminine voice responded, sounding as if they just woke up.

“Hey Kath, Yeah, I caught a case late last night, didn’t have time to call so I wanted to check in this morning. How’s Lara?”

“It’s fine,” Kathleen replied. “I figured. Lara’s had a good few days.”

“No more…incidents?” Fletcher asked.

Lara had a bad habit of running away.

“No, no talking or writing about it, either but…you going to be able to see her soon?”

“Not ‘til this case wraps up. It’s a big one, got lots of eyes on it."

She knew not to ask how long it would take. “Okay, she’s still asleep, you want me to wake her up?”

“No, let her sleep. Just tell her I called and I’ll schedule a time to visit as soon as this is done, promise.”

“Stay safe,” Kathleen replied and ended the call.

Fletcher put his phone away and headed inside.

(BR: RPG) Randomly-Generated NPC: Patronizing Celeb, named Seo-Joon Izzo.
I decide Seo-joon is a popular talk-show host / podcaster who’s incredibly anti-replicant, reports outlandish lies and is an influential part of the Empathy Movement.

One of the victims had claimed they’d seen a replicant plant the bomb and that it was an N9.

The victim was Seo-Joon, a popular podcaster and talk show host who was part of the Empathy Movement and regularly called for “action” aka genocide, against replicants.

A man in a black suit stood outside the room, hands held behind his back, a bodyguard who kept his eyes on the detective.

Fletcher showed his badge and the man let him in.

How hurt is Seo-joon? 1-barely, 6 - nearly died.
1d6 = 5

Seo-Joon had bandages all up his left side. His eyes were closed.

It looked like he’d been burned up pretty bad by the blast.

“Mr. Izzo,” Fletcher said, stepping up to the bed, flipping open a small notebook and taking out a pen.

Seo-Joon opened his eyes and looked Fletcher up and down. “I already gave a statement to the cops,” he said, closing his eyes again.

“I’m investigating the incident and I’d like to hear exactly what happened from you, in your own words.”

Seo-Joon sighed, shaking his head. “Fuckin’ pigs…” he muttered. He looked Fletcher up and down.“At least they didn’t send a skinjob.”

“I understand you helped organize the event,” Fletcher stated.

“Hell yeah I did. We need to rise up before we’re replaced, get it? Before we get killed. Just look at what happened to me. Those fuckin’ bots wanna do this to every one.”

Fletcher tried to walk Seo-joon through the planning of the event, asking questions throughout, and getting the gist.

Seo-joon and other influential Empathy Movement types had planned the protest, getting as many people as they could to join. It’d been going well, a few aggressive speeches, some chanting, the usual.

Then, the explosion, people yelling and running, people hurt, screaming. Chaos.

“And in your statement you said you saw a suspicious figure,” Fletcher said.

“A skinjob for sure. Male, tall, strong, didn’t belong. Dark clothing, doing something shifty. One of them new ones, the N9 fucks.”

At this point, I’m going to make an Insight Roll, as I try to figure out what this guy is really feeling and if he’s telling the truth. I get a d10 for my attribute, Empathy, and a d10 for the skill.
2d10 = 7,7. Critical Success! I can tell the NPC’s mood and whether they’re lying or not.
1d8 Mood = 7: Anger. Makes sense!
Time to ask, is Seo-joon lying? 1d6 = Yes, but…
Yes, Seo-joon is lying about seeing this man BUT he did see something…

Fletcher could tell Seo-joon was lying. Seo-joon had seen something unusual, but the entire bit about it being a replicant was off to Fletcher’s experienced ears.

“Tell me more about this replicant, who you claim was an N9,” Fletcher said, asking questions and angling the conversation around this sighting, attempting to trip Seo-joon up, forcing him to admit the lie, and say what he really saw.

Empathy + Manipulation = 2d10.
2d10 = 1,9. Success

“Alright, alright,” Seo-joon said, grimacing in pain. “I didn’t actually see a skinjob…but it was definitely something out of place.”

“So, what, or who, did you really see?”

Chapter One Log

I’m pretty happy with how this turned out. I knew I wanted a scene to establish the new relationship between these detectives, the grizzled old guy and the confident rookie replicant. The bombing I got from a randomly generated case from the Blade Runner RPG book. It’s a bit of a tricky line to walk, as the book presents a ton of setting information including Holden, the LAPD resources, the Wallace Corp, how to go about solving a case, etc. but also leaves lots to the imagination, so I have to just play it how I see it and sometimes run with my imagination. I’ve dabbled in creative writing before, so it’s been nice to just run with ideas I have.

I will say I’m no expert when it comes to being a police detective, so I’m just doing the best I can. I may have them do things no other detective would or miss obvious things or follow procedures that normal detectives would, and we’ll all have to be okay with that. Feel free to school me in the comments though or offer suggestions. I may get some Blade Runner Lore wrong too! I’ve watched the movies multiple times but that’s about it for my credentials when it comes to the Blade Runner universe.

Playing With Myself

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