2019-10-21 - Unsolicited Footwork

(TXT to Byron ) Alexander : Thorne.

(TXT to Alexander ) Byron : What's up, Clayton?
(TXT to Alexander ) Byron : Don't tell me that something's gone wrong again.
(TXT to Byron ) Alexander : No. Not exactly. But you may have recorded a murder.
(TXT to Alexander ) Byron : I'd hope that my security team would tell me if my video cameras recorded someone being murdered.
(TXT to Byron ) Alexander : They probably didn't know what it was, or weren't looking. It's more the getaway and it's at a far distance but the angle's right. I think I know what camera it is. May I look at it? If we can isolate the footage, then you can have it ready when others come looking and there won't be a need for a warrant.
(TXT to Alexander ) Byron : Do you need access into the complex? More like, do you need me to meet you there? I gotta say, I'm curious myself now.
(TXT to Byron ) Alexander : That would be nice. If your security folk let me poke around in their video archives just because of a call or e-mail, you need better security folk.
(TXT to Alexander ) Byron : Well, I have my head of security who can take care of that for you when I'm busy. Let me know when you'd like to stop by.
(TXT to Byron ) Alexander : Thank you. How are you?
(TXT to Alexander ) Byron : I'm about to head out for a bit of much needed R&R for the weekend. Mixed in with work things.
(TXT to Byron ) Alexander : That sounds good! You definitely deserve it.
(TXT to Alexander ) Byron : But now what you're telling me is, I may need to cancel this trip.
(TXT to Byron ) Alexander : Absolutely not.
(TXT to Byron ) Alexander : Go. Flee.
(TXT to Alexander ) Byron : You did say: 'When others come looking'.
(TXT to Byron ) Alexander : So leave a note to let them access that particular day. Or something.
(TXT to Byron ) Alexander : Or, we can try to find the footage before you go, and you can send it to the police as a gift. And then flee.
(TXT to Alexander ) Byron : As I was planning to head out later tonight. If you're available now...

Byron was already packed, his suitcase stashed away in the trunk of his car when he received word that one of his building's security cameras may have picked something of interest up. He had a mind to just leave for his vacation. Whatever this was, was probably not any of his concern as nothing happened on Bayside Apartments grounds. That doesn't mean that he's just the slightest bit curious, however, thus he agrees to meed with Alexander shortly after their message exchange.

Thorne's not dressed in a suit. In fact, he has on a gray sweater and jeans with a black leather jacket thrown over the ensembles for warmth against the chilly Autumn air. He's waiting just outside of the entrance gates, just in sight of the gate keeper who looks prepared to allow him entrance back in if necessary. His hands are tucked deep within his jeans pockets, taking up a somewhat casual stance.

Amusingly, Alexander is also dressed in a gray sweater and jeans, although the similarity between the two men's outfits really ends at color and type. Alexander's sweater is at least a size too big for him, a fuzzy knit that has been worn almost entirely through in places, hinting at the white undershirt he wears beneath, and his jeans are faded, with unfashionably popped seams in places. One shoulder is bulkier than the other, proof of bandaging underneath. But he walks easily enough from the road that leads towards Downtown, and makes a beeline for Byron when he notices him. "Thorne." He looks the other man up and down, smiles briefly. "Thanks. For meeting me. Are you well?"

After the most recent events regarding the funeral and the flu, Byron Thorne looks to be in as good a shape as he's ever been more than likely. Deep, dark eyes carefully observe Alexander from a distance at the very moment he'd spotted the man and he'll offer up his own cordial enough smile once the other gets close enough. "Well enough. I'd say that you caught me at a bad time, but I have a few hours before needing to leave, so what better way than to spend it with a friend, right?" There's just that bit of wryness in his voice when he says this, sounding far too amused by it all.

"So tell me, Clayton." His hands remained tucked away in pockets as his gaze looks out at the expanse of the wall which surrounds the complex, "What exactly are we looking for and who informed you of this?"

Alexander pauses, enough to notice, at Byron's words. Or maybe the smile. Or maybe a combination of both, since he's not usually the recipient of the latter and the word 'friend' has rarely been in any conversation they've had. It makes him blink, and look a bit wary. "I won't take up much of your time," he says, slowly, like he's feeling his way over ground that has suddenly turned unfamiliar.

But murder is familiar ground, so he relaxes a bit at the question. "I interviewed a witness at the hotel who saw the murderer of the Krugers entering and leaving the building. They pointed out where they saw the suspect abandon his car, and be picked up by another vehicle. A company vehicle. But the witness wasn't able to recall the entire name of the company, nor any details like license plate. I noticed that your building has a security camera at the right angle to have seen it. Thought it couldn't hurt to check."

"The murder of the Krugers, eh? That was a while ago." Byron's says, his brows creasing in thought. "Didn't realize it at the time who was murdered, but wasn't it on a Friday the 13th of all days? Or that's when the news broke." He then turns to peer behind his shoulder at where the security office is situated just at the gate, making eye contact with the man within for the briefest of moments.

"So where exactly would this camera be situated?" He then asks, returning to look directly on Alexander. "The guy manning the gate has access to several cameras along the perimeter, but it would make things a lot easier if we found the exact one."

"It's proven to be an interesting mystery," Alexander says, sounding somewhat pleased. It's not that he doesn't want the murderer to be brought to justice, surely, but there's the impression in the way that he perks up that the fact that it's not easy to do that is part of the appeal. "Yes, Friday the 13th. The murder itself was about 8:47 in the morning, so we'd want the footage about an hour around that time. Just in case there's something else." A pause at the question. He closes his eyes, picturing the view and what he'd seen from the motel. "Yes. It was one of the upper cameras, on the corner. If you have a numbering scheme, I can probably pick it out."

Watching the other with this searching look within his eyes, Byron half-turns, though his gaze never leaves Alexander, "And I will assume that the GHPD has asked for your assistance in this matter before I go giving out information to the nosily inquisitive?" There's a part of him that has his doubts about this, but he doesn't seem overly concerned. "With how many cameras that I've had installed into this place, you bet that I have a numbering scheme. Most of it goes by building letter. The exterior cameras though are listed by location. Front walls, walk ways. The overlook."

His own eyes now flicker up to view the building closest to the entry gate. "If it's facing the road, then it's more than likely Building B." Though as all of the buildings have several cameras directed in various directions, he asks, "What angle are we looking at?" As he's even questioning this, his eyes look from one of the cameras that he can clearly see and where it leads to out on the road.

Alexander's lips twitch. "Sure. You can assume that." A hint of amusement there as he meets that searching look. "At least, I was told that there was no intention of trying to stop me from talking to you. Which is almost the same thing." It's really not. "Do you have an exterior map? I could point it out, I'm pretty sure." He turns to follow Byron's gaze. "Is this Building B? If so...yes, I think that might be it. It was high on the corner. The highest one, I think." His hands come up and his gaze goes distracted as he turns a mental model of the building in his hands, sketching out the location for his memory. It's entirely possible that if the security guy wasn't there, this would be an illusory model, but he contents himself with the mental picture for now. "Right here," he points at something only he can see. Far angle, not close, because the sun was hitting the lens. It was pointed out, not down."

"Sure, it's almost the same thing." Byron'll add emphasis to the word 'almost'.

After unlocking his phone, he also unlocks a folder where he keeps all of his security details. From there, he pulls up several images of building B, one of them is a layout with camera positioning. Each cameras shown have the letter B in front of them, followed by another letter which may hint at something more directional and then a few numbers. To where Alexander is pointing, getting some idea of it, he then asks, showing the other man the image of his phone, "There are two at around that height, though one of them is directed head on at the road, the other comes in at an angle." Again, he takes a look at the position on the building pointed at, before tracing a visual path from there, "But if since you said that the sun had hit the lens, then it's most likely this one." He points one particular camera out.

"Technically, if no police have contacted you about it, yet, then nothing here is officially part of a police investigation. It's just your property, which you can share with whoever you so choose." Alexander's mischievous grin is brief and brilliant. "Your ass is covered, Thorne. Promise. No legal liability."

When the man unlocks the folder, Alexander's whole demeanor changes. From wary and defensive, like he's expecting someone to throw something at his head, to alert and focused. "Yes. I think so. That," his eyes close again, briefly, "seems to match the angle and height that I observed. Excellent." He sort of prowls around in the limited space around Byron, peeking over his shoulder to examine the image.

"I'm not terribly worried about what they might try to do." Byron isn't afraid to admit, "Seeing as no one from the GHPD has contacted me as of yet, it probably means that they've not come into the information that you have-- at the moment anyway."

Mentally noting the reference number to that one camera in particular, he starts to head back towards the apartment grounds proper and it almost looks as if the man in the guardhouse is about to press the button to open the gate, but to this Thorne shakes his head. Instead, he'll gesture to the guard house and starts to head in that direction, "While I do have access to the camera feeds, it's mainly used for real time observation. That said, I also have access to the database, but Frank's set up shop out here with a series of monitors, larger screens, to help better view whatever it is you're looking for."

The door to the guard house swings open to let them both in. It's a pretty spacious room with it's own coffeemaker and fridge along with comfortable seating. It's also used as a monitoring system, to help keep me eyes out on what's going on within and around the Apartments. So if the security within Building A are distracted by something or other or are on break, whoever is manning the gates is also on observance duties.

Alexander prowls along behind Byron. "I imagine you'll get contacted fairly soon. I think there's a lot of pressure coming from up above to solve this one, honestly." He watches the interplay between the security folk and Byron with dark, interested eyes. "What firm do you use? For security. Or are they all internal hires?" The question's not exactly idle from his thoughtful look, and the nod for the information about the guard house.

The guard house is scrutinized from top to bottom, as if trying to memorize everything within. Which, to be honest, he is. After that's done, though, he turns back to Byron with a bit of a frown. "How have you been?" It's asked as if he belatedly realizes that he's been completely neglecting the whole personal angle of the conversation. "Things a little less crazy since the funeral, I hope?" Despite the belated nature of the question, Alexander stares at him with focus, as if the answer is as important as whatever information the camera might uncover.

The man who usually watches the gates, Frank, is Byron's chief of security. While he might not own the firm that he works for, he's the top dog when it comes to anything security within the Bayside Apartments. He's out here, rather than inside the office within Building A, because this place is just as cushy. That doesn't mean that they don't switch things up, but by now, he's very familiar with the tenants within the apartment complex.

"Precision Security." It's a very generic name, but it has a professional sound to it. Byron says as he speaks out to his CoS, "Mister Clayton, here, brought to my attention the fact that one of our cameras might have captured footage of a person of interest related to a recent murder, Frank." There's this visual exchange between the two men, perhaps Thorne passing along that, when he's not in town, Frank may have to deal with the authorities on this if they come knocking.

"I'm looking for footage from 9/13. At around, maybe 8:30am to 9am. Camera BSE7." Frank starts the process of pulling the information up, searching their database for the exact day and so forth, before excusing himself to speak to a newly arrived guest. It doesn't matter, Thorne takes over from here. He'll keep up with Alexander's personal inquiries as he starts to scroll the camera along to reach their desired time frame. "The world still feels a little claustrophobic since the funeral, if that's what you're asking?" There's a pause in his work and he turns to look on Alexander, "So you didn't end up killing anyone? That's good to hear." He returns back to the monitor. "Something like that, serial killing ghost tainted or not, has a tendency to stick with you. Legally, mentally." He shrugs, before he quiets down having seen something.

On the monitor at approximately the time given on Friday the 13th, there is a white sedan parked outside of apartment complex. From the video feed, it's been there for a good 20 minutes or so. The name BULLDOG SECURITY (and a dog with teeth bared as a logo) can be seen clearly on the vehicle. "Definitely not one of ours." By now, Frank's come to join them, hovering behind the two men.

The footage isn't sufficient to get an ID on the driver, other than it looks like a white guy. Either way, it starts up and drives off in the direction of the Sea View Suites.

Alexander stares at Frank in that special way that tends to raise the hackles on anyone who works law enforcement or security, like he's either sizing up the man for valuables, or trying to figure out where the best place to stick a knife would be. The sad thing is that Alexander doesn't even seem to realize he's doing it - it's just that instead of RBF, he has RMF: Resting Murder Face. He takes in the information with a brief nod, and that focus that suggests he'll do his best not to forget. He doesn't interrupt the conversation, but does watch how the information is accessed with an intense sort of interest. "I can't reach as far. With," he glances up to make sure Frank is excused for the moment, "my mind. Not nearly as far. It's sort of a relief," he admits.

He shakes his head when Byron turns. "I...tried. On multiple occasions. But they stashed me at August's cabin out in the woods, and with the flu wrecking my brain, it was hard to concentrate enough to kill anyone from a distance." Bluntly stated, although the tension on his face reveals guilt and shame. He takes a breath. "But. Yes. It wouldn't have been good to have succeeded." A curious look towards Byron. "And you? Did you have any incidents?"

His attention remains fixed on Byron, until that white sedan shows up. "Yes!" He doesn't quite pump his fist in the air in triumph, but his elation comes through nonetheless. "I knew it wasn't McGruff." He leans in to examine the footage. "Run it for a bit. See if we can see the shooter getting into the car. That'd be a solid link between the two."

Frank doesn't care for Alexander, but so far, any time that the man was granted access into the building, he hadn't caused any trouble. It's just weird for people to visit and just walk inside rather than drive in with a vehicle. Either way, with Thorne here, giving him some insight on what goes on within the gatekeeper's office, he tries not to look like a thug about it in his security uniform.

During that conversation regarding Gohl's murder plague, Byron absently nods a few times at what Alexander says. However, when the question is directed to him, there's only this smallest hint of a pause, when he shakes his head, "At some point, I was too laid up to handle my day-to-day. Admittedly, I may have lost my temper at a few tenants who didn't believe I was doing enough to protect them against serial killers-- whether it be that my own security team was lacking or I'm not shaking the cops up enough to deal with this. Either way, I lost one summer client over the course of that week or so." He then murmurs beneath his breath, "All I can say is good riddance." His tone is more audible, returning to a conversational volume, "I guess I should count myself as being lucky."

Now that they're all looking at the video footage with the Bulldog Security sedan in sight, Thorne allows it to play further, but the car doesn't stop anywhere within the frame. He even skips ahead a bit to see if the vehicle returns or drives on through. So far they've come up with nothing. To Frank, he states, "Have some of the others review footage to see whether they catch any site of that sedan at a later point." He then says to Alexander, "So what brought you to the Bayside Apartments? Why did you expect there to be something here on that day?" His eyes once more flicker over in the other guy's direction, "A tenant as eye witness?"

Many things dealing with Alexander are a bit weird, so it's not like the man is wrong. Alexander doesn't seem to take it personally. He doesn't even scowl like he usually does when having to deal with security - now that they're useful. To him.

Alexander studies Byron for a long moment, then winces. "I'm sorry to hear that. And that all of this has caused problems with your business. That's not fair." His tone holds a bit of frustrated resignation - the sense that it's not fair, but that it should be, somehow. He turns his attention back to the screen. "But I'm glad to hear that you didn't have any serious problems. It could have been worse than a cancelled lease. Weirdly, we should be grateful for the damned flu, I guess."

He watches the footage play, humming to himself. A flash of a pleased smile at Byron when he goes above and beyond. "Mm. Not a tenant. A homeless person in the area." He sighs, sits back, and rubs at his face. "This corroborates his story, partially, but he's not exactly a reliable witness, if he would even speak to the police in the first place. I was hoping to get a solid link between the shooter and this...Bulldog Security." He considers Byron. "I don't supposed you've heard of it? Maybe they've tried to solicit you as a client, or something?"

"Nothing about any of this is fair. Not the tenants who were killed or were attacked in my buildings. Not the shadow goblins that invaded one of our lobbies." Byron prattles on, holding back most of the ire from his tone. He's also not looking at Alexander, his eyes solely focused on the video footage now. There is a moment when his lips crack open into this smile, "You don't think they, and others, haven't threatened to take a legal course of action with each new attack?"

There doesn't seem to be anything new being shown, even when they switch cameras to another positioned in that vicinity or at least, directed towards a similar location. "Looks like that's all we're gonna get." His posture finally straightens to full height, no longer hovering over the monitor. "Your witness was a homeless person?" He scans Alexander with his gaze again, "Did you buy them lunch first? Or donated some of your hard-earned money?" He then asks, "And is the GHPD paying you or is there another client that has you looking into this murder? You gotta admit that these are all valid questions. As for Bulldog Security, if their name came up during my inquiries, it wasn't anything noteworthy to me, but I'm sure that it's something to look up." This time, he shoots a glance at his Chief of Security, seeing as this Bulldog is his competition.

"I hope that things cool off long enough to let you handle things, Thorne," Alexander says, quietly. "None of this nonsense is your fault, and I know they aren't able to understand that." But it doesn't stop the flicker of irritation on his face. Not that he even knows those people. And some of their concerns aren't even entirely unwarranted. But they're pissing him off, anyway.

He sighs. "That's fine. It's enough for me. It won't be enough for the police to justify a serious investigation into Bulldog for this alone, I suspect. But I'll toss it to them and see what they do with it." A frown. "Would it be asking too much to have a digital copy of just this clip? I don't want to impose." There's a grimace and a shrug at the questions. "No one's paying me, and I slipped the guy twenty bucks for the information. He'll probably smoke it, but maybe he'll buy some food. Hopefully." He hums again. "It might not be local," he says, more to himself than Byron, "if this is bound up in what I think it is, then the guy probably brought his own people in. I'll have to check." A warm smile over to Byron. "Thank you. Is there something I can do for you in return?"

"Nothing like this has happened in my apartments for the three years that I'd owned it. Not until recently." Byron says with a shrug of his shoulders, "I should meet up with a lawyer at some point and go over my tenant contracts to add in the weirdness of Gray Harbor in a totally mundanely subtle way." He's more than likely joking about doing that.

"No one's paying you and you are not affiliated with the GHPD, but you are still doing their investigative footwork for them?" Byron has this look in the vein of: Is that what you're saying right now? He idly rubs a hand over the scruff at his chin, nodding slowly once more, "Can't say that I'm surprised. And, I'll have Frank send you the footage, if I don't have the time to do it myself, if that's alright with you? Like I said in our text message, I'm heading out tonight for a little of R&R." The hand drops to casually slip into his pocket and those dark eyes settle on Alexander when asked if the other could return the favor. He doesn't say anything at first, before adding, "Not at the moment, but I'm sure after everything, I owed you." He'll leave it at that. "Anyway, good luck with... whatever this is that you're doing. Hope the cops find out what happened."

"Things have gotten more intense lately," Alexander admits. "I think that's it. And so many more people who stand out. And a lot of them were living or staying here, while the rest are sort of spread out over the town. That might have something to do with it." He smiles, briefly at the mention of the lawyer. "If you find one that can manage to thread that needle, put them on retainer," although he only sounds half joking. It would be a unique and valuable skillset!

The smile widens fractionally at Byron's expression. "No. I'm doing my investigative work for me. I'm just cutting the police in on it because a few of them are interesting, and because I can't arrest anyone or see any sort of legal justice done for the deaths of the Krugers. If you didn't have to work at all, wouldn't you still have projects that you did because you enjoy them, or because not being busy is boring?" Not that Alexander can necessarily afford to take on a lot of 'projects' that don't pay, but hey. A grateful nod. "Thanks. And that's fine. I appreciate you taking time out of your evening - and urge you to jump in the car and don't stop until you get out of the town limits. Not for anything." There's just an uncomfortable shrug at the idea of Byron owing him anything, and he starts to move towards the door. "Thanks again. And don't die."

"If I had to do put in the legwork like this or any work, then I'd definitely think of a way on how to profit from it all." Says the guy who started his own business ventures at 12 years old. "This sort of thing doesn't look like it's merely for... fun." His voice trails off and he seems like he's about to take those same words back, because it's Alexander Clayton he's talking to.

He'll follow Alexander to the door, but he has more work to do once the man departs. "I'll try to remember that out. Stop and don't look back." If only Lilith didn't have a craving for bacon and something or candy this evening. The edge of his lips quirk up into this amused enough smile at the now familiar parting words from Alexander, before he turns back to Frank with a few orders of his own, all the while, he makes his way over to the front gate camera to observe as Clayton departs, "Have the requested clipped footage sent to him, his contact information is on file." He keeps a hawk-like watch, when he adds in, "Keep me informed if the GHPD show up at our doors. With Clayton possibly forwarding them the surveillance footage, we might not have anything to concern ourselves over." A pause, "Check in on this Bulldog Security while you're at it. Let's see who they work for?"