2019-12-04 - Consultation

The morgue is indeed a quiet place, especially this early in the morning. It's the door of one of the offices that has been left open in invitation rather than the larger rooms where autopsies are done. Yule hasn't yet changed into scrubs for his days work, but instead is leaning against the desk that has a variety of files on it, with one in particular: the scene report of the car accident that Alexander had called about. He's dressed in a white button down dress shirt and a pair of black slacks, the gray woolen coat he wore in having already been taken off and slung over the back of the chair of that desk.

A wild Alexander appears! He's not dressed in a way that anyone would call professional, but it is festive - an exceptionally ugly sweater with a poofy-nosed reindeer is covered by an oversized army jacket, and his jeans and workboots are both worn and scuffed, but clean. He doesn't stride so much as he slouches inside the office, hesitating at the doorway. He looks tired, but then, even as a teenager he usually looked either exhausted, wired, or some combination of both. "Yule. Good morning."

Brown eyes study Alexander for a moment, Yule's normally calm exterior making it difficult to read until a faint smile flickers to life on his mouth. "Morning. I've been reading over what I have so far on one James Joseph Carmichael. Looks like he wasn't dead at the scene, made it to the hospital, but they couldn't save him. Saw the article this morning as well in the Gazette. Newly married, yeah?" A hand lifts, motioning for the other to come on in if he'd like, "Figured I'd talk to you before I started digging in, so to speak. What is it that you think is going on here?"

Alexander sidles in and finds a chair, settling down on the edge and hunching over, forearms resting lightly on his knees. "Yeah." A pause. "Newly married. I was at the wedding, by accident." The faint smile is returned with one from Alexander, although it lasts only a moment. "His wedding was co-opted by a man who used a variety of techniques to turn it...bad. The bride and groom almost stabbed each other at the altar, and things like that." He scratches at his beard. "This accident was caused by the same man. He stepped out in front of the car, made Carmichael swerve to avoid him. The air bag didn't deploy - not an accident."

One dark brow arches upwards when he mentions by accident, "This not a personal thing, is it?" He murmurs, but at the further explanation that comes, a low breath is pushed out, Yule's hands lifting to cross over his chest. "You talking about a man like us? That glimmers?" It's the latter part that is processed, head dipping one way and then the other, before he murmurs, "Don't suppose there was any police report filed about the wedding, then. Looking over the car could find evidence of tampering, yeah? But, backing up a moment," His lips purse in consideration, watching carefully before he asks, "How is it that you know that is what happened? That whomever this is stepped out in front of the car?"

"It's sort of personal. I was at the wedding because the man responsible for this kidnapped Isabella and was using her like a giant, psychic battery to cause all of the unpleasantness." And Alexander says that like it's the most normal thing in the world. "There might have been a police report, but it was probably for vandalism; we blew out the windows of the church." He sits up at the other questions. His eyes skip away from their flat stare at Yule, examining the rest of the office. "I took a look at the car. Made it show me the accident." A flick of his eyes back to Yule, studying his response to the answer.

"Isabella?" It's a name the M.E. isn't familiar with from around town, but that idle thought fades away once Alexander looks elsewhere from him. "Jesus. Before or after the police showed up at the scene-" And then almost immediately, a hand lifts, one finger pointing upwards to stall an answer to that. "I don't want to know. All right. So, what is the favor you want, then? The body will show the impact trauma to confirm the airbag didn't deploy. I'm guessing," This part, however, gets a pointed look from the examiner to the other, "the tox screen will show up clean and clear, removing any thought of driving under the influence."

"Isabella Reede. A local archaeologist, finishing up her thesis here," Alexander says. "She's about ten years younger than us. Might not have ever met her. I'll introduce you, one day." Alexander opens his mouth to answer the question, but then Yule declares he doesn't want to know, so the man just shrugs and lets it drop. "I want to know if there's anything unusual in the death. After the accident, the man - who we're calling Peregrine, but that's not his real name - opened the door of the car to talk to him. He might have done something then, but I don't know." A pause. "And if you can...keep an eye out for other unusual accidents? He's still in town. I don't think he's done here. Which means more people are gonna die, until we stop him. And keep an eye out for him, too. I can show you what he looks like."

"How long ago was the wedding? And sounds like Isabella is now back to safety, yeah?" A hand lifts, fingers spreading wide to rake through his hair as he considers the matter, before his head dips into a faint nod of agreement. "Yeah. Normally, we wouldn't autopsy the brain for a car accident, without reasonable cause. Or at the request of the family." That draws out a long beat of a pause, looking to Alexander, "You know why he went after our victim? Personal beef over something? And yeah, send me his information." It's a beat of a pause, his head dipping to the side, glancing over at the case file. "Fuck. I really wish I had a way to check for usage. It," Glimmer, powers, whatever you want to call it. "Has to be like a drug, yeah? Unknown side effects. Some risidual left behind, even if it's in the brain instead of the blood. Both on the user and anyone that comes in contact with it. I'll see what I can figure out."

"The wedding was on Halloween. And yes. She's better, now." Alexander frowns, thinking it over. "I don't think he has anything personal against any of us. He wants misery and sadness and pain. I think he attacked the wedding because it was a joyous occasion, and I think he came back to Carmichael because they thought they were safe, and it hurts more to lose someone after you thought you were saved." This is all recited tonelessly. "And he's a...showman. I think he likes drama and narratives. At the wedding, he dressed like Baron Samedi. But he seems to favor this more normally." He glances to one side, and suddenly there's a man standing next to Yule's desk. He's tall, thin, Caucasian and maybe in his fifties, although some of his face and figure are hidden by the top hat and black, round glasses that he wears. It's incredibly lifelike, although there's the suggestion of swirling mists around the figure, and it seems too tall. "Sorry," Alexander says. "Last time I saw him, he was hiding in the fog, and I think he was wearing something to boost his height further."

It takes a moment, Yule's eyes blinking, before he Gets It, and a low, calming breath is pushed out. Only then can he study that image, though one might note the small signs of tension in his jaw, those fingers that curl in on his forearms. Only once the image is gone does he fully relax, arms slackening to fall by his side as he murmurs, "A showman. Doesn't really seem to fit with a car accident with no witnesses, yeah? Unless he isn't done with the Carmichael's, maybe. Isabella know he has resurfaced, too?" Speaking of people that think they were saved, after all. "All right. I'll take a look, see what I can figure out, if anything. See if I can't find a reason to look at the brain, too. I'd been meaning to reach out to you on a couple other things, too." His head tips to one side, taking a moment to gather up those thoughts. "So things from the other side, yeah? Erin told me about the bones, for example. Is it possible something, or someone, can go from the veil to here?"

"He might not be. And Isabella knows that he hasn't left town, but I'll make sure she knows to be careful. I'll keep her safe," Alexander mutters, and runs his hand through his hair. "Thank you, Yule. I appreciate it. I realize that it's not...a lot to go on. I'd be curious to see if you found anything regarding Glimmer use in the autopsy." His head comes up at the mention of 'other things', and he stares at Yule, quiet and still in his chair. "Yes. Maybe. It doesn't seem to happen often; usually, if you're seeing something awful or strange, it's because you went there, not the other way around. I don't know that much of them have interest on this side. But I don't see why they couldn't, for short visits in thin places. Why?"

"Seen the recent spate of people with organs missing? Murders." It's been in the papers. A lung here. Kidneys there, and Yule's head just shakes a bit. "Doesn't feel... normal." Is the spin he puts on it, a deep breath drawn in and slowly let out, "Suppose the bodies could be going through a dream themselves, and then appearing back here, yeah? But it's more than some wacko just going around looking for organs to sell on the black market. If you happen to hear of anything? Let me know." But it's back to what had drawn Alexander here, his fingertips tapping against the case file laid out, the information on the accident. "I'll get started on it today. Some things will be pretty straight forward, others like the tox screens will take time. I'll keep you posted."

"Organs?" Alexander perks, visibly. "That sounds intriguing. I...could read one of the bodies. If there is one that hasn't been released. See what happened to it. I've been working on the Kruger thing," he admits, with a shrug. "But I'm happy to help, if I can. I'll keep an eye and ear out." His lips twitch upwards in a quick smile and he rises to his feet. "Sure. Thanks, again. Um...do you know a Jones? Sparrow Jones? She was asking about you."

"Might take you up on that if we get another in. Have a feeling this guy, or whatever it is, isn't done yet. Half expecting the killers name to be Frankenstein at this point." Yule pushes up off the desk he'd been lounging against, hands brushing against his slacks before that last question comes in, drawing one eyebrow to arch upwards, but his face? It's amused and warm. "Yeah. I know Sparrow well. Where did you run into her at? And asking about me? Doing research, was she?" That thought doesn't seem to bother the M.E. in the least.

"The Kellys have their Thanksgiving party on Elm. She was there," Alexander says, with a shrug. "Seems like a nice kid. Her brother cooks." He studies Yule's expression, and some of the tension in his own face eases. "I'll assume by your response that she's not stalking you, and leave it be, then." A pause. "If it were Frankenstein, they'd need a lab. And equipment to keep the stolen organs from decaying until they could finish their creation." And again, he states that like it's a perfectly normal topic of conversation, before turning to leave. "Thanks for the meeting, Yule. And happy holidays. Watch out for elves."

"Oh, she's absolutely stalking me. But only in the best of ways. And yeah, Corey? Excellent chef. Think he works for," What was that name? It's a beat of a pause before he finds it, "Vyv. And goes to school. And cooks for everyone in Sparrow's house. I can remember those days back in college... way too much to do. Not that it's changed drastically," That gets a glance over his shoulder to the case files. From anyone else? That warning would have gotten a small laughter, but instead? It leaves the man whom loves Christmas with a small sense of dread. "Thanks," Comes the deadpan response, before his voice picks up to it's more normal tones, "Be careful Alexander. I'll be in touch."