2019-11-07 - Murder of the Bands: The Brother

It's not hard to track down Victor Ott, younger brother of the deceased Morris Ott (also known as Ravage). For one, the two were at the same music festival, just attached to different bands. According to social media, Victor has been picked up by Heartcore, the rival of Morris' band, Gryndhaus. A couple of calls and a discreet bribe or two, and Jessica has a motel name and a room number for Victor, as well as an assurance that he is, in fact, at the hotel at this particular time. The musical festival, understandably, has altered its schedule a bit, and Heartcore isn't playing today.

The hotel they're staying at is a generic Holiday Inn. Maybe Heartcore is doing a little bit better than its rival, because they're NOT staying in the murder hotel. The hallway leading to Victor's room is a very generic hallway, and Victor's door looks exactly the same as a dozen other doorways. Aside from the number on it, of course.

From down the hall, Jessica can hear the faint blare of music even through the doors; someone down there is not making themselves popular with their fellow guests.

Loud music and annoying your neighbors; the traditional way of expressing grief at the death of a sibling. Jessica finds the room she is after, hard not to, and glances up and down the hall before a light knock on the door.

Like anyone would have heard that. This time she thumps on the door. "Victor Ott?" she calls out, hoping that knowing his name will show she is not an angry neighbor to be ignored. Though she could be a hotel staffer to be ignored. "My name is Jessica Flores." She wonders where the rest of Heartcore are. Surely they'll be helping Victor through this trying time? Maybe Aorta is here too.

There's a moment before the music gets turned down, and then there's the sound of padding to the door. Someone looks through the peephole, and after a long time, the door cracks open. "Yeah?" The man on the other side looks to be in his early twenties - early enough that he's probably desperate to look older, most times. Not now, though. Right now, he looks like a young teenager, his eyes reddened and the smell of weed wafting out of the room. "What do you want?" His voice is rough, thick.

The rest of the band is nowhere to be seen.

Jessica offers the man a polite smile while checking him out. Are those eyes from tears...or weed smoke? "Sorry to bother you, Mister Ott, I was wondering if you could spare a few moments to talk about your brother." Nothing like getting straight to the point. "My condolences for your loss" she adds sympathetically while taking in the room behind him. Jessica also does her best to slip a foot in the doorframe so the door can't be slammed closed...though it will probably hurt.

Victor blinks, slowly. As for the reddened eyes? Probably a little of column A, and a little of column B. "Uh. Are you with the cops?" he asks, and instinctively moves back a little as she puts her foot forward. He doesn't try to slam the door on her, yet, but there's a touch more wariness in his features, now.

"No, I'm not the cops, though I am an investigator of sorts. Have the police not been in contact with you yet?" If Jessica can talk to him before the police, that would be great. "You have no need to worry, Mister Ott, I am only here for the truth. Shall we talk inside?" She tries to step into the room and close the door behind her. "We wouldn't want to talk out in the hall" she smiles warmly before waving her hand to clear away some of the smoke. "Have a seat, Mister Ott, make yourself..." The haze in the room suggests the last word is unnecessary but she'll say it anyway. "...comfortable."

Victor maybe isn't at his best, so he doesn't immediately ask, "What SORT of investigator?"

Instead, as she asserts herself, he gives away, shaking his head. "Not yet. Um. I've been a little out of it since I heard the news." He runs a hand through his hair - under other circumstances, he'd be kinda good looking in a young and unformed way, 'boyish' would probably be a good word. "Who are you?" He goes to sit heavily on one of the twin beds. The room itself isn't particularly messy; there's a stack of notebooks on the desk, and a laptop, much like his brother's room, but he doesn't have all the band crap. It smells like weed in here, but that's about it.

Jessica takes in every detail of the room as her hand slips into a jacket pocket to turn on the recorder within. "I'm Jessica Flores" she reminds him, her smile as consoling as she can make it. "It must have been terrible news for you. I can't even begin to imagine how hard it is to lose a sibling. Especially in such a way. Can I get you a drink or something? How did you find out if it wasn't the police?" She looks for a kitchen area where she can make him a cup of coffee. "I'm the sort of investigator who only cares about the truth and will give everyone their say."

"Right. Right. You said." Victor's pupils are a little blown as he studies her. There is a coffee pot on a little strip of counterspace, and some cheap single serving things of beans beside them. It could theoretically make coffee - hotel coffee - but coffee nonetheless. His brow furrows. "Um. Festival organizer. And there was a phone call. I listened to the message, haven't called them back yet. It doesn't...it doesn't feel real. Like, how can Morris be dead. How the fuck does that happen?"

At least the Holiday Inn coffee has to be better than the version at the Motel of the Dead; that stuff is probably poisoned. Jessica gets to making some coffee for them both as they talk. "Do you mind if I listen to the message?" The festival organizer? Odd source. She'll get the time of that message too. "It is, unfortunately, real. I find death puts arguments into perspective. All the things we should have done or said come rushing up on us. Cream and sugar? When did you last see your brother?"

Jessica listens to the message - not very exciting. "The festival organizer came to tell you in person? But then left you alone? What time did he drop by?" A nod to his phone. "How long before you got that message?" She brings over his mug of hotel coffee. "None of your bandmates wanted to stay with you in your time of need? I understand Aorta had an argument with him at the festival. Did you see that?" Jessica retrieves her own mug of coffee, cradling it in her hands but wary of actually drinking any. "Why didn't your brother want you to play at the festival?" It must have a cool name like 'Death Fest'. "I've heard stories but I'd rather hear it from you."

"You were writing in here? Jessica looks around the room at the lack of gear. "How do you compose? Still play real instruments or all on the computer these days?" Her tone jocular rather than obviously inquisitive - but if Victor has a guitar missing... "But you weren't planning on performing? You were just writing the songs for Heartcore? You had no desire to be up on stage being adored by thousands?" A pause. "Hundreds at least. But you haven't just joined Heartcore. They didn't argue about that before? You know that the argument they had puts Sam at the top of the list of suspects."

"The members of Haus didn't help with the arrangements or anything like that? Yeah, it can be annoying when people take credit for what you did. Hope that doesn't happen with Heartcore. You have publishing though, right? It just says your name?" Jessica asks. "Sounds like you need a better manager or agent. You do have those, right?" A shrug and a smile at the opinion of Sam's killer instinct. "Who else would want to kill Morris? The police around here have a very limited imagination. If it wasn't Sam, then who else argues with Morris all the time?" An arch of an eyebrow at Victor - yes, she means him. "Let me ask a question the detective will ask. Where were you when your brother was murdered and can anyone confirm it?"

"Everyone will need an alibi, Victor. Sure, at first glance, you're right. He would want you dead more than you would want him dead but it would also be a way of you to get back at him for his claims of authorship. People do mad things when they get mad" Jessica shrugs. "Let's be clear though, I'm not accusing you of anything...but I can't speak for the police. How's the coffee?"

Jessica nods at the talk of Cora, "Sleeping together? The death of an artist does bring about a boost to sales but how often does it bring a boost to the manager?" She purses her lips in thought. "Unless she owns the publishing. You didn't answer me earlier about who owned it. Whether your name alone is the writing credit." She tries a sip of her own coffee and immediately regrets it. "How was your relationship with Cora? She obviously didn't do anything to resolve the songwriting issue. Did she try to seduce you too?"

"Whose name was on the publishing? If it was Morris, who does it belong to now?" Jessica asks before tipping the rest of her coffee down the sink. "I hope you get better coffee when you go out to dinner."

"I'd say that sleeping with Morris was very much business. Don't worry, I will definitely be talking with Cora about a lot of things. Anything you'd like to say about your brother now? How you feel?"

"Why am I not surprised that Cora suggested it? Perhaps Morris found something out about the deal that he didn't like" Jessica muses before a faint smile to Victor. "Pure supposition, of course. No proof." But definitely something to look into.

An understanding nod to Victor's feelings. "Let me say again how sorry I am that this has happened to you...and Morris. My condolences. I am sure your friends will be here soon to take you to dinner so I better let you get ready." And the police may be around any moment and not be happy she is here. Jessica leaves a business card next to the coffee. "Feel free to call me if there is something else you need to say. Thank you for your time at such a terrible moment."