She who seeks Glory in an Era of Peace

Erzsébet’s snooping into the dealings of Richard Mann proved to be unnecessary in the end. She had applied to a cheesy quasi-tabloid magazine in order to arouse less suspicion when she requested to cover the Gala hosted by the victim. After the party’s conclusion, she quits POP! Culture and pours her dedication into improving the image of Mann’s victims, with the help of Sándor’s wealth and expertise.

“I’ve heard footage of areas around the vault were looped, or at least tampered with… The only footage that can be seen is Mann entering the vault at approximately 10:40 this evening, but nothing exists of someone else entering. So the question becomes, did he die in the vault? Or was his body placed in there to make it seem as if he died there? Whoever orchestrated this certainly knew what they were doing when it came to tampering with security…”

“Yes… that would seem logical. Whoever put it in the pool likely figured it wouldn’t be discovered quickly, if at all.” He paused, thinking a moment. “…While Gilbert certainly seems guilty from many angles, I do know him. This is very unlike him if he is, in fact, the culprit. He’s been quite adamant that he wouldn’t leave a trail at all. Though I suppose his word isn’t very credible at the moment, and it’s not illogical to think that he might have just made mistakes. After all, whoever did this clearly had this planned out and knew what they were doing.”

“Yes… It’s all rather suspicious. Of course, there’s no solid evidence to prove that the switchblade is even the murder weapon at all. Someone might have possibly lost it. But with it being found at the bottom of the pool, it’s hard to mark that as coincidence… I suppose someone ought to ask Gilbert if he owned a switchblade. I haven’t yet seen it myself, but I hear it is likely rather expensive.”

“Well, for one, there is that switchblade, engraved with a B. One can only assume that is someone’s initials. So, if we narrow down the people in this manor based on that, you’re left with less than ten possible suspects. Plus, there is the case of the hair found at the crime scene. It appears to be a coppery red color, but who’s to say if it’s dyed or not? All of this can help us narrow down the suspects quite substantially.” He paused, then chuckled. “Unfortunately for our friend Mr. Beilscmidt, we can’t rule him out completely just yet. He’ll be quite disappointed.”

“Like I said, we were talking business. It got a little out of hand.” Gilbert reiterated. “I really don’thave to tell you anything else- how do I know you’re not gonna print some whack stuff about me?”

At this point, Erzsébet really had nothing to go on to continue this line of questioning. “Fine, I’ll leave you alone. But that doesn’t mean I still don’t think you’re suspicious.”

“But you’re sneaking around in his private office.” Gil pointed out. “Not very legal.”

“Technically, I was invited. If only I could find my phone, I could prove it. I know better than to do illegal things for a scoop; I’m not desperate like the paparazzi.” Erzsébet grumbled, shoving her hands in her pockets.

“Ew!!” Gilbert, honestly, looked repulsed. “I was implying that Mann is a gross little gremlin that treats women exactly how you’d expect! Now I have a gross mental image of his dick- one not based on real events”

His cool facade was long shattered now; Gilbert was bright pink, and blatantly sputtering. Still, he at least managed to regain control of his speaking. 

“Investigating is pretty shady, though; we only spoke business.”

“Hey now,” Erzsébet raised up her hands, “those were your words, not mine. Gotta be careful what you say around journalists.”

Admittedly, this was the first time she’d ever seen Gilbert less than composed, and she secretly relished it. “I dunno, I remember it was getting heated there..it might have been business, but you were both really invested--and I don’t mean financially.”

“Why would I know if you were in here?” Gilbert asked, allowing himself a scoff. “I’m in his office, but that doesn’t mean I know about all his weird office sex dungeons.” He pulled a face. “I’m thankful to say we weren’t that close.”

A beat. Gilbert’s eyes flashed, and he fixed his gaze on Erzsebet. “Why were you in his weird office sex dungeon? And why did you know to find the gun?”

A bit of humor was returning to her. “You two weren’t that close? Weren’t you just saying he was...thick in bed?” 

“Well, yeah.” Gilbert replied, shooting her a look. “That’s my gun- a lot of guns are ‘my guns’, I make them for a living.”

Still, he frowned. “He was alive last I saw him, I hope you’re not accusing me after I pulled you out of his weird study dungeon.”

Manners were the last thing on Erzsébet’s mind. “But..how did you find me in the first place? Did you know I was here??” Something was really adding up here.

“Police say she was stabbed, apparently there was some sort of struggle.” He reeled off the information, slipping into his cool, professional demeanor. “There’s a two hour murder window, and none of us can leave because we’re all suspects.” 

Gilbert surpressed a sigh. He really wanted to wash his hands of Mann entirely at this point.

“God...I was just here the whole time, I can say most assuredly it wasn’t me.” She blathered as she rubbed her head.

“Last I saw him was..here...” She stumbled around looking for something specific, muttering unintelligibly under her breath. She opened a drawer and found a gun.

Whoops- Gilbert automatically reached out to steady her, frowning into her explanation. 

“Someone’s looking for a bad review.” He muttered, righting her onto her feet. “Get some standards, Mann, jeez. Oh, he died by the way.”

“He-he’s dead??” She was a bit slow on the uptake what with the, yknow, trauma. “Okay, okay, um..so what happened, exactly?”

[there is indeed]

[gilbert had actually been flipping through the papers on mann’s desk, but obviously he was going to investigate the noise behind the bookcase]

[ah, he found the right book to tap] Erz?!