2019-10-06 - Here's To You, Missus Robbins(On)

It's just after sunset with many people scurrying home after work or trying in vain to gather up overly excited children who just rode the carousel in order to get them home for dinner. Clarissa is hurrying her way along one of the paths, the clickity-clack of her expensive heels warning people out of the way when the sound of her voice doesn't do it, "No, no," she's saying loudly into the iPhone she's holding in her hand, "Michael, I needed an appointment with the permit office, not the head of--you know what, I'll just call them myself. Where are we with the chocolate swan situation?"

Gabriel is seated at one of the picnic benches, finishing up what may pass as his 'lunch' given his shifts or maybe just a cup of coffee to clear his head. He has a steno pad in front of him -- likely case notes -- and a pondering look. Lost in the world of murders. His head turns up at a familiar voice and a small smile comes to his lips. Rich people problems going to rich people problems. He nods once to Clarissa when he makes eye contact. Hello, former suspect.

Without letting the person on the other end of the phone get anything out but a 'well' Clarissa jumps in, "Just make sure there's some kind of stipulation for whether or not the--" and then Gabriel catches her eye and she both stops talking and stops dead in her tracks. Like someone that's guilty! Or someone that's just very unhappy to see someone else. "I'll call you back," she says in a far flatter tone, pressing the end call button and shoving the phone into the oversized vintage Hermes purse that dangles from the crook of her arm. "Detective." That one word carries a lot of weight and history. All of it making it sound more like a curse word.

"Ms. Robbins," says Gabriel in what is undoubtedly his very most professional cop voice, which one breaks out when speaking to Upright Citizens who doubtlessly have the Mayor on speed dial. "Lovely evening isn't it?" He gestures. "Love that carousel, but I'm not sure that I'd be welcome if I rode it alone." Ha. Ha.

"Missus," Clarissa corrects irritably, glancing from him to the carousel and then back, "That sounds like a real difficult question, but I'm sure in any number of months you'd eventually arrive at the correct answer. Perhaps you should ride it and see? We're pretty close to the police station so if anything unfortunate did happen I'm sure they'd crack the case in a couple of years."

Gabriel manages to at least suppress any flash of anger in his voice and face and nods his head slowly. "Missus Robbins," says the Detective, as if that is the part of her statement that he focused on the most. "My apologies." The rest? He brushes by. "Did you need a connection to someone in City Hall? I can point you in the right direction."

Clarissa smooths down an invisible wrinkle in her red coat and fixes him with a flat look, "I run into the mayor every so often, so I doubt that you'd be of particular assistance with this," barb given, she then amends, "However, if you happen to know of anyone in the permit office that would be helpful, I'd be happy to hear of it." So I can avoid them is the not so subtle under text to her tone there.

"Well, I am certain the Mayor knows how to fill out the forms in triplicate and knows the required inspections you need," remarks the homicide detective, cheerily, as if certainly accepting that His Honor knows all of those things. "But. Just in case. What are you needing? Electrical? Zoning? I've got people." Gabriel will cheer his way through this encounter.

Clarissa narrows her eyes just a tiny bit at him and his incessant cheer in the face of...well, her. "I wanted to know what the situation was with the land around the Sea View Hotel as a matter of fact. I'm looking into whether or not it can be declared a historical landmark, but that's not going to matter much if someone wants to put a mall or a..." She looks around at the buildings surrounding the park. Hardly malls. "...fishmonger store or whatever there to drive down the property value."

At first, Gabriel was just gritting his way through this conversation, counting how he can make it end without a report to the Captain. But when Clarissa mentions the Sea View Hotel, something clicks. "I'm sorry, ma'am?" he asks, his voice suddenly becoming more Cop. "Can you repeat that? You said you were interested in the land around the Sea View Hotel?"

That's a bad change. Clarissa knows a cop voice when she hears one, especially from Gabriel, "I'm interested in the Sea View Hotel," she repeats irritably, "And whether or not it can be declared a historical landmark and yes, that includes the land around it. This is your problem, you know. You never listen, Detective."

"It's among my problems, ma'am, but I appreciate the feedback," says Gabriel, brushing aside the barb. "And what have you learned about it so far? You said someone was looking into a fish something with it? Some kind of trout, maybe?" He feeds that in, seeing what comes back.

Clarissa gives him a strange, but still pretty condescending look, "Fishmonger. I was insulting this two-bit town and their weird stores," She shakes her head, fishing out her phone from her bag, "If I'd learned anything about it I wouldn't be on my way to town hall trying to get a meeting. I'd wonder why I was still here talking to you, but at least if you're talking with me you're not harassing some other poor innocent soul out there."

"Well, I apologize for keeping you from your meeting, ma'am, but the owners of the Sea View motel were accosted by a mask-wearing man, told to get on their knees behind the counter, and shot execution style, so if you can spare a minute, I would certainly appreciate it." Gabriel now makes his voice cut like a knife, the deadpan doing the work here for the murder detective. "Of course, you're always free to go." No Fourth Amendment violations here.

"What?!" Clarissa actually sounds shocked to hear that and nearly drops her phone, fumbling with it before finally trapping it between an arm and her coat. "When? Are they--did one of them survive?" She appears to be at a loss for words otherwise, struggling to even get that out and paling.

Theeeere we go. "No, ma'am, I am sorry to say that both of them died at the scene." Gabriel does not say that 'execution style' means that those executed usually do not make it. "One possible motive for the murder is that it has to do with the land around the motel, so your comment struck me, is all. Not that I think you have anything to do with it. But it was certainly something to hear someone mentioning fish and the motel and the land."

"If both of them died at the scene, how do you know it was a man wearing a mask?" Clarissa asks, working to compose herself and also remain totally bitchy. "And what does fish even have to do with anything? So is the building up for sale? Or did they have family that could take it over? Ugh, talking to you is always a mistake, Detective. Thank you for the reminder."

"There was surveillance footage," replies Gabriel, to the question of how they know who it was. Or what he (sort of) looked it. "As for the disposition of the land, we're working on figuring that out. They had a daughter, who I believe is going to inherit." On the fish point, he doesn't respond. Instead, he takes out a business card of his and clicks his pen open. "So this is my guy at the zoning office. If you hear of any more interest in the Motel, can you give me call? It would mean a lot on cracking this horrendous murder."

Clarissa clicks her tongue, "Of course. Maybe with a regular if highly intelligent civilian helping you out, the police in this town will finally solve a crime." She waits until he's filled out the information and will take the card if offered, "Although I'm hardly inclined to do you any favors, Detective Quintanilla, I'll keep an ear out for information for the daughter's sake. Will that be all?" She arches a brow expectantly. Or are you going to arrest me?

Gabriel does, in fact, offer the card. "Oh, I appreciate your concern and your help, ma'am, I really do," says Gabriel, returning to his previous cheer. He then flips his spiral notebook closed and tucks it back into his pocket. He then pauses, as if the thought just occurred to him. "Just one last thing, since I know you're interested in preservation. Does the Cutthroat Trout mean anything to you?"

"Is that the endangered fish in the area?" Clarissa asks, tucking away the card into a pocket of her coat, "Or is it another low end sea food restaurant? Honestly, I don't know why people want to flood the market with those, there's already half a dozen to choose from since living on the water clearly means we all love sea food." She rolls her eyes.

"Mmmm. Yeah. Not sure," says Gabriel, vaguely. "Just had heard it, and was wondering if you knew more. I am such an idiot, after all." He steers into the skid of the inevitable insult. "I won't take up more of your time, ma'am. I know I have taken too much already." And with that, Gabe is off to clearly botch an investigation or let some criminals go free or whatever it is he does all day.