The Roulette Hotline

In case it wasn’t clear, my name is Roulette; as of recently, I’ve been promoted to the role of an incident investigator. My job is to investigate cases presented to me by my superiors or the general public.

As of recently, my two largest cases are The SDN Cryptic and the person calling themselves The Snake Charmer. If you have any information, please leave a message in the Tips and Info box.

Thanks for calling!

It's one of the rarest gems in the world, its also one of the official birthstones for June! Great for engagement rings.

Oh-fuck, you’re right…thought ‘the host’ was the signature…sorry, I’m tired.”

This had all the hallmarks of what he would best call “creepy rich people bullshit”, but he seemed invested nonetheless.

He missed when the apartment used to be bustling, before everyone moved into their own places. He understood that they needed distance and couldn’t be together all of the time, but he felt…isolated. Alone.

The letter reads.

If this letter has reached you, then events are proceeding exactly as intended.

Certain mysteries lose their charm when explained too soon.

You were not chosen at random.

Ever heard of Willem Vanderstenk? He's made a lot a enemies. Unfortunately for him, one of them has finally found leverage.

His precious little Alexandrite ring that has been missing for awhile is at our little get together.

Why seek the ring at all? The answer may be worth more than the ring itself.

Bring nothing except your curiosity and a willingness to step beyond the ordinary.

Upon arrival, present this letter. Do not discuss its contents publicly. Questions are expected; answers are not guaranteed.

Should you decide to attend, simply arrive.

Should you decide not to attend...

...the evening will proceed regardless.

We await your presence. If you're smart enough, you'll look for clues to find the location.

Sign below:

— The Host

Roulette squinted slightly as he read, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“…What the fuck?”

Stolen jewelry? William Vanderstenk? What the hell was happening?

He wanted to call Dominic, but decided against it; god only knows what whoever sent him this would do if they found out if Dom had been let in on it.

Roulette sighed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one and blowing a small cloud.

A blank card?

”What the fuck…hang on-“

Roulette stands and goes to the kitchen, shuffling around some things in his junk drawer until he finds two things: a lighter and a small black light.

“Maybe this’ll work-“

“Okay, I’ll try mine then…”

thanks anon! I knew the poem spelled out the word “password”, but I wasn’t sure if the clue was in there somehow.

The main problem with the poem clue is that there’s not really any references to numbers, unless…

Paths: 5 letters

Always: 6 letters

Stars: 5 letters

Shadows: 7 letters

Whispers: 8 letters

Operations: 10 letters

Rise: 4 letters

Days: 4 letters

Roulette opens the door cautiously, swearing as he stoops down to pick up the box. He winced as he put too much pressure on his bad leg, but managed to get the box inside; it was bigger than he would’ve expected.

He always hated bringing his work home with him, but for now, he didn’t seem to have a choice. Before sitting down and actually trying to work the box, Roulette made his way over to the kitchen, pulling out a small set of lock picking tools, as well as an actual toolkit, just in case he needed to pry the box open.