Before Us [Wriolette]

Chapter 11: Conference

The stroll was peaceful and upon turning the last corner, the station was dead ahead. Waiting outside, looking directly at him, was Chevereuse. From this distance, they weren't able to talk to each other, but Wriothesley gave a nod which was promptly returned. This was the usual greeting between the two, leaving formal introductions for moments when their superiors were around. Such formalities were unnecessary when you've been coworkers for so long. 

With each step, the scent of french fries got stronger and Chevereuse's need for a napkin was more apparent. Unsurprisingly, he could see stains gathered over time adorning her outfit. Once Wriothesley had approached the door, Chevereuse passed directly in front of him, close enough to push the man back a step, and shoved the door open with her elbow. The chivalry was astounding. As Chevereuse continued walking to her office, she wiped her mouth with the side of her hand and began to explain the recent advances and punch some numbers on the printer.

"Our agents positioned in photography classes have noticed some suspicious interactions between the reporting, general news, and their own. Normally, it would be expected for them to exchange photos or information for portfolios, but a witness from your sector caught some photos of them passing bags of powder and notes under a table." Reaching the end of the hallway, Chevereuse abruptly turned around and if Wriothesley was standing any closer, he may have knocked into her.

Glancing down, he saw a photo held out in the woman's extended hand. It had been flipped upside down, allowing no passers by to see it. Taking the photo into his own hands and tucking it into the breast pocket of his vest, he nodded, "I see. After all this time, its relieving to know we've got a lead," he waved his hand, gesturing for her to enter the office. "Yeah," she agreed and turned the doorknob with her grease covered hand. Once they had both stepped inside, he kicked the door shut with the back of his heel, avoiding the knob discretely.  

He took a step forward, looking at Chevereuse as she walked to the opposite side of the desk and swiveled her chair to sit. Flopping onto her seat, she clicked her pen and scribbled something down. "Well?" she asked expectantly, glancing up at Wriothesley. With the hand she wasn't using to write, she gestured for him to take out the photo. He reached into the pocket on his chest and fumbled for the slip of paper. Setting it on the table and rotating it towards himself, he examined the image before him. Nothing spectacular out of context, but in their situation it opened up a whole new level of investigation. Huddled around a circular table, 4 college kids, multiple years younger than himself, seemed to be discussing a group project. Upon closer inspection, however, small pouches of powder, along with a vial containing a liquid of some sort, could be seen passed between two members. 

As Wriothesley was examining the image, Chevereuse declared, "we were able to identify two of the four from the photo, as they were facing the camera." she paused just long enough for the man to have spoke but did not give him the opportunity. "Charlotte, a reporting major, and Freminet, who majors in photography and marine biology. Our agents approached Freminet after a lecture, but he scurried off before they could say hi... In this aspect, he is far more suspicious than the other suspect. It's really no secret that he has something to hide. We have yet to get our hands on Charlotte's schedule, the school board and Headmaster Furina have understandably been receiving piles of papers since investigations began on campus. We are expecting the documents by tomorrow. Expect a meeting with the whole station by the end of the week." she sighed, defeated by the influx of work that she no doubt had been doing as she spoke.

Wriothesley took one last glance at the photo before tucking it away once more, clearing his throat. "It's been a long day, I can see the bags under your eyes." she shot him a glare. If looks could kill... "How about I brew a cup of tea, ah?" pausing from her work, she looked up a gave a small grin. "That would be appreciated, Wriothesley, thank you for your help as of late." He smiled at her in reply and let out a dry chuckle. "Its nothing," he assured, turning to the staff lounge to throw together some of the mediocre tea they offered there. Within five minutes, he had two piping hot cups of tea and a water burn which he made quick work of with a band-aid. Setting the tea and saucer down onto the table, he took a small portion of the papers stacked high on her desk and read them over. 'suspects are unaware of the... keep close eyes on.... remember not to reveal any personal/private information to anyone that hasn't been cleared... etc etc.' most of the documents covered basic information and procedures about the continued investigation of the two suspects. All of which was standard and core functioning to him after going into this line of work straight out of prison. Some of the processes for dealing with rowdy criminals could be recited by heart.

"Are these specifically for you to do or can I lighten the load for ya?" he asked, more of an offer than a question. Looking up, she replied, "knock yourself out." and left no room for a reply. Wriothesley laughed and took a fountain pen from the table. Most of the documents were covering different people that would be participants in the work with Charlotte and Freminet. All he needed to do was check the stations of different officers and do a brief background check. Finding information such as how long they've been in this line of work, past assignments and others of similarity, personality and general ability to earn someone's trust. Not only did he have to do this to assign the people who would be directly interacting with the individuals, but also their tech support (mainly used when they need to wire tap a call or take photos in a tough spot), assigned boss(es) and possible necessary backup. 

He had finished filling out the first document after half an hour and suddenly remembered his other reason to be here. Arranging the paper he had finished on the table, he promptly thanked Chevereuse for her time and made his way to his own office. He had written most of the script for today's meeting last night, but with this new discovery (which he was informed of at a very inconvenient time) he would have to revise and update it some.  

For reference, his script before he changed it was 800 words. 

It was now 1400.

It is not unexpected for such a large lead to demand such an influx of words, but he was not looking forward to reading all of that to his bosses. Selecting "print" he made his way, yet again, to the staff lounge to get the papers he printed. As it had been an hour since his last appearance there, he said "hello" to a few coworkers on the way there and back. Luckily none of them had commented on his general hopeless disposition that of which he had inherited from Chevereuse. The pile of work on her desk made sorrow contagious. 

His meeting was scheduled to start at 12:00, which was in another hour. Wriothesley read his script over and over until he felt like he could recite it. Which, of course, he couldn't because it was way too long for one meeting if you take into account the questions, comments and necessary clarifications. As he rehearsed for good measure, he faced the corner of his office adorned with stickers that he didn't have the heart to take off, not that he'd ever admit that. 

Before he knew it, it was already time for the meeting.

***I am in indescribable pain staying up so late after being forced to go to late-night events two days in a row and still getting up early today to go to lessons. And this itty bitty teeny tiny chapter is 300 words longer than the others. ik its not much but I'll be fr im a living corpse over here, show me some mercy. If you're not satisfied with the length of the chapters or how often i update (once a week), there are plenty of wriolette fish in the sea. imma get some coffee now***