Unfathomed Constellations

      She caught the ever rising sharpness in her tone, a softer appeal in a form of a thanks to him on the tip of her tongue. After all, he hadn’t made a big deal of it. It died on her lips as soon as she turned to look at him, confusion glossing over her features. ❝ The lieutenant, he told you about this whole deal, didn’t he? I mean he didn’t give you the impression I was some college kid they picked off the street, right? ❞ It wasn’t hard to get her answer. With haste, she readjusted her ponytail, moving to step off once the elevator door opened. ❝ All right. Just forget about it, then. It doesn’t matter. Let’s just- ❞

“Didn’t tell me a thing,” Jeremiah’s head cocked slightly, his eyes surveying D’Angeles’ puzzled expression and mirroring it in his own. His intention wasn’t to hurt her, but it would seem his words sparked some sort of mournful response in her once bright eyes. For a moment, he regretted being the cause of such pain, his body longing to empathize with her annoyance. They had all been there - the undesired looks of pity and dejection. Hell, Jeremiah had been there himself all but a year ago. But the callousness in her tone was a side he hadn’t expected of the young girl - marking yet another aspect of D’Angeles that spurred interest in the Detective. He didn’t have time to speak again before she was off, moving quickly through the lobby and threading through the crowd.

       “Nothing that I can too well recall. As I said, not an unusual man- ‘had a dress shirt and tie on, perhaps a bit disheveled.” Nikki’s brows creased in thought as her eyes uneasily searched the floor as though they held all the answers. ❝ I see.❞ “If there’s anything else on your mind-” Mrs. Higgs interjected, and Immediately the girl tensed, not only at the words but how they were spoken, holding some sort of sympathy fit more for a small child who was too frightened to speak under every word. And despite the good intentions behind it, it made her bristle in such a way that probably wasn’t subtle to her partner. ❝ I appreciate that Mrs. Higgs, but it won’t be necessary.❞  Her tone was mutedly more defensive than she would have liked, so she continued on more courteously. ❝ I was just somewhat curious is all. ❞

A tinge of irritation pricked at Adler’s skin again, carefully watching the behaviour of his partner as she squirmed under the microscope of the couple. Her hostility, intriguing as it may be, seemed unjustified if not unprofessional towards the more-than-accommodating help. As far as he was concerned, Mrs. Higgs’ tone nothing short of motherly - as if she wanted to help D’Angeles for some undisclosed reason, and somehow, it sparked nothing more than annoyance. He turned back to the Higgs’, flashing yet another one of his charming smiles to deter from Nikki’s discomfort. “Well, you’ve both been extremely helpful. Thank you so much for your time and hospitality,” the man reached into his pocket to hand them a sleek card, “If you notice or remember anything else, please do not hesitate to give me a call.”

“ should she/he be making that noise? ”

“ she’s crying again… it’s your turn ”

“ should she/he be screaming this much? ”

“ i think she/he has a fever ”

“ you can’t call the pediatrician every time you have a question! ”

“ be careful with her/him! ”

“ the books didn’t cover this… ”

“ i think she/he has a rash ”

“ i don’t know what i’m doing ”

“ do you think we’re doing a good job? ”

“ she’s/he’s a prodigy!!! ”

“ have you seen my breast pump? ”

“ i’ve never been so tired in my life ”

“ how have they already outgrown these clothes?? ”

“ be careful with her/him… ”

“ do you wanna count her/his toes again? ”

“ you think she/he knows who i am? ”

“ i think this diaper is on wrong ”

“ watch your mouth, this baby’s first word better not be a curse word ”

“ shhhh! i just got her/him to sleep ”

“ do we really have to watch the wiggles 24/7? ”

“ should she/he be socializing with other babies? ”

“ be careful… she/he is a hair puller ”

“ she/he looks like you ”

      The girl followed him through the hoard towards the elderly couple, remaining silent say for a small word of greeting when she shook their hands. Her name seemed to ring a bell with the wife in a way that made her stomach turn, for Mrs. Higgs glanced at her with the sort of look she hated. It was that all too familiar look of pity she’d get from anyone who read that damned article in the papers her uncle had so desperately pushed for, making her bitterly hope for his sake that the next six years he was gunning for was worth it. The look was enough to get her to tear her gaze away from the couple, examining the carpet below their feet for a few moments as she dealt with the fact she had come across yet another person who knew her story. The old couple’s flat was extravagant, elegantly trimmed with just as fine Victorian furnishings. Apparently, no one in this building had any sense of frugality. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?” Mrs. Higgs offered in an accent that was less prominent than that of her husband.  ❝ No, thank you.❞ Her voice held a bit more of a somber tinge it as she took the seat that was offered to her. She glanced over at Adler, her demeanor far more uncomfortable than before as she tried to avoid the old woman’s gaze. ❝ My partner has a few brief questions to ask you both, it shouldn’t take too much of your time.❞ Perhaps wasn’t too great of a time for interrogation boundaries to be pushed.

Jeremiah’s dark eyes panned sideways at the sudden shift in D’Angeles’ stature. What was once itching to be a part of the action now seemed subdued; shy, even. Did she know this woman? Her soft greeting said otherwise. Something else had silenced her, and it suddenly became apparent that he had some homework to do on his so-called partner, and her astoundingly lucky permittance onto the field. 

“No thank you, Mrs. Higgs” Jeremiah offered a charming smile, settling himself into the fine upholstery of an arm chair in the living room. The seat felt stiff; dense and unaccustomed to the weight of a human body. As if it were merely there as a decoration of their wealth. Hell, he wouldn’t have been surprised if he was the only one to have ever sat in it. It seemed as if everyone here owned apartments purely to show off, and not to live. 

He allowed for the couple to settle down with their porcelain cups of tea, eyeing a snow white cat that perched at the long windows of the single-floored fortress. Jeremiah caught wind of his shadow’s eye as she glanced over at him, his curiosity roused again at her submittance in the couple’s questioning. “Yes,” Jeremiah’s index finger rubbed at his brow, a warmness glowing on his face as he began to question the couple. “What were you doing last night between 10pm and midnight?” “Oh! We ate dinner at this absolutely lovely restaurant down by the Town Warner Centre, and came home at around 10:30.” Mrs. Higgs cooed, as if she was tasting her meal all over again. “And when you returned, did you notice anyone unusual coming in to your building?” “No, I don’t think anyone came in with-” “Actually,” Mr. Higgs chimed in, a small groan slipping past his lips as he adjusted his posture. “I do believe we saw a younger fellow come in from another private car in the lot. Not an unusual man, but he did seem in a hurry. We were all but steps behind him, yet he didn’t bother to hold the lift doors for us and we were forced to wait for the next.. Unfortunately, I don’t quite recall his face. I have quite the weak spot for scotch during dinner.” He let out a hollow laugh, taking a sip from his cup. Jeremiah’s brows furrowed in response, nodding at the information and making note of looking at the parking lot security footage from that night. “Now, we’re also aware that each floor in this complex is completely sound proof. However, with the proximity of the crime scene, is it possible that you may have heard something suspicious last night?” 

       Standing a bit off to the side of the body, and the broken glass that surrounded it, she’d rest her hands in her coat pockets, chewing on her cheek as she surveyed the area. No security cameras. No alarms. No nothing. Had this been a crime of passion, it was sure as hell a lucky place to do it.  As Moreno relayed the information, Nicolette eyed the woman tentatively and shifted her focus from the body towards where the trail of blood led; the guard rails. It was a lovely sight, a view of the upper West Side in all its glory. She noticed a patch of blood on the iron bar, a palm print where he’d grabbed the railing when the first bullet hit him. ❝ He had a nice view of the city in his last moments on earth.❞ She mused, looking out to the skyline before them. ❝ The guy was out here waiting for something, or someone. No one else is out here on the veranda, so he decides to occupy himself watching the streets below him. Somebody comes through the door while his back’s turned, and guns him down- excluding the part where he smashes his head into a priceless glass table.❞ She’d look to him now, her brows furrowed. ❝ So riddle me this, Adler. How does a nobody from south Manhattan end up waiting on the 28th floor of Gregory Hanson’s wicked fancy building complex, only to get shot in the back several times? ❞ She wouldn’t give him time to answer, clasping her hands together. ❝ Now I’m just fishin’ here, but it seems like Ford knew something he shouldn’t have. Hell, by how sloppy this is, maybe he was using that info to his full advantage.❞ She was still gauging how much he’d listen to her theories, even as she followed after him. Perhaps out of need, and out of vindictiveness, she continued on, far from willing to be dragged along quietly. ❝ Hey. Why stop there? Why don’t you relay some info down to whoever’s on the first floor; find the bellman on duty that night and see what he knows. You can do that, right? I mean, this place seems pretty exclusive. If Ford entered the building, he most definitely wasn’t alone. Might narrow down the suspect pool.❞

       She allowed an awkward silence to settle for a moment even as she followed her partner back towards the elevator, only imagining what sort of commotion all this would stir up. It wasn’t something she had to try and comprehend for long, as when the elevator doors opened she could hear -as well as see the panicked chatter of several of the tenants who had refused to stay in their flats, it seemed the police presence wasn’t doing much to calm them. She’d look to the small group with an arched eyebrow, before shooting a look at him.  ❝ Hey, I’m followin’ youhere.  ❞

Irritation struck at Jeremiah’s chords as she denied him the chance to answer, not even willing to offer the hooded glare of his dark eyes. She was right, of course. They wouldn’t have been called to the case if there wasn’t suspicion of foul play between Ford and murderer. Something was off- something bigger than a little quarrel between two angry people. “The bellman is already being questioned. We’re working on contacting security and obtaining the video footage.” Jeremiah interjected, discomfort itching at his limbs at the notion of his shadow telling him what to do. Lawyers, he mumbled to himself. 

Annoyance aside, and contrary to his attitude, Jeremiah had to admit D’Angeles’ observations had piqued his interest. All attempts to shut her down seemed futile; no measure of snarky remark or coldness seemed to keep her from wanting to be a part of the case. In fact, she spoke with a wealth of knowledge and intuition that even Jeremiah’s best detectives couldn’t piece together right off the bat. And on top of it all, she refused to keep quiet under her role as a shadow. No partner he’d ever be paired with had challenged him this way, and he wasn’t quite sure if he enjoyed it, or downright loathed it.