A Little Too Interested

heather_icon.png topper_icon.png

Where: Da Bing

When: March 31, 2012

What: Topper and Heather have both had their interviews with the police, but now get a chance to talk amongst themselves.

Another afternoon in Da Bing, people flowing in and leaving, this is a city that never sleeps, and as such, neither does the Strip Club. Nash is actually seated at a table near the door, eating his lunch, a pizza he ordered, largely ignoring the crowds for now as he occasionally flips a page on a newspaper, trying to find out any thing more about the recent .. murder.

The brunette stepping in the door isn't looking for a stripper. She asks at the door for the owner or manager of the establishment. And she's directed toward the table where he sits. Stopping in front of it Heather asks politely, "Topper Nash?"

Nash had been aware of the approach of some one before Heather was in front of him, he was more expecting cops to come looking for him, but he gently folds the paper and settles it down on the table before wiping his mouth and fingers and looking up. "I am." He says, observing Heather, not a slimy look as if he wanted her to be on the stage, but a calculating look. "If this is a follow up for witness statements, I will happily comply."

"I'm sure the police will be handling that. I was just… hoping to ask you if you'd ever seen the woman before." Heather tilts her head and gestures to the chair across from him. "May I sit?"

Nash lightly gestures to the chair across from him and snaps his fingers and one of the scantily clad girls scurries over with a drink tray. "Champagne and Strawberries for the Lady. There is a bottle of Ruinart in my private collection, use that." He says before waiting for her to settle in and leaning forward slightly. "I've never seen her before, but I've seen murders." He comments.

She doesn't seem to want to appear rude, contradicting him in front of his employees. But Heather says mildly, "I don't really need anything, thank you." She tilts her head and observes thoughtfully, "Really? One rarely witnesses a single murder in a lifetime much less more than that."

Nash gently pinches the bridge of his nose, he has to get used to these civillians again, that much is clear. "Sorry, I've served in the US Military and the French Foreign Legion, I'm used to such displays of power by warlords and the like. Until I read she had a medical condition, I'm assuming some one killed her." He comments and blantantly ignores her comment on not needing any thing, because shortly there after, a Flute glass with sliced strawberries, filled with Champagne arrives and is settled in front of her. "The thing that bothers me, no one saw the killer, and if they did, didn't say any thing. I'd watch your back." He suggests.

That explains it. Heather's expression eases slightly, and she offers a faint smile. "I see." The glass arrives and she picks it up to take a sip since it's there. She savors it a moment, and then sets the glass down to study him. "Why would you assume I need to do that?" she wonders.

Nash lightly laces his fingers in front of his face and peers over them at Heather. "Some one used a quick acting agent to kill that lady, and no one saw the killer. The Cops haven't released any leads yet, and it was in a busy crowd. Who ever did it, they were a professional killer, this wasn't a spree killing, it was meant to send a message to some one. Any one who put their witness statements up there for the world to hear, likely becomes a liability for those behind it. They may decide to make us never talk again."

Heather seems interested in his perspective on the matter. "Now that's a theory, definitely. Although truth to tell, so far as I know no one saw anything at all. It'll be interesting to see what the tox report says."

Nash's eyes don't reveal any further insights into what he believes, but he speaks freely enough. "Probably nothing, I provided CPR, and didn't exactly keel over dead, I can't even make an educated guess at what agent was used, every thing I've read about or encountered, what have probably killed me too."

"I admire the fact that you tried to administer CPR when it was clearly a lost cause from the start and the danger you just mentioned," Heather comments easily. "I almost stopped you from even trying, but I figured it wasn't worth the fight just in case she might be able to be helped."

Nash splits into a slight grin at her words. "I would have also been forced to ask you to stop interfering and convince a burly biker man to hold you whilst I attempted to save a life. Of course, that may have backfired. I don't know this city well enough to know how people would react to that situation." He admits, so he's new here is he now? "I talked to the boy with the Camera too, he didn't have any back up footage."

Heather's smile is faint but her amusement is reflected in her eyes too. "Well, you did contaminate the crime scene when you did it," she points out. "And everyone but you seemed to already grok that she was not only merely dead but really, most sincerely dead." There's a flicker in her gaze when he mentions the boy with the camera. "I'm sure the police will be thrilled to know their crime scene won't be showing up on Youtube."

Nash's eyes flash a bit at the part of cops being happy. "I'm a soldier ma'am, even when it's hopeless, you try. If you don't try, you can't hope for a miracle." He says with a sincere tone of voice. "I'm waiting for the case to be dropped, Vegas has money enough in it to buy off the cops." He says, stating his beliefs on the situation pretty firmly, the cops are crooked, and involved.

Her chin comes up and her hazel eyes narrow. "Don't count on the case being dropped," Heather says quietly. "That girl deserves justice. And I aim to see she gets it, even if it's not my case."

Nash rolls his shoulders a bit at her statement. "I just think the murder is well beyond the scope of a random occurance, to well performed, and what ever Agent they used, is well beyond some thing you mix up using junk from home depot and a Morton's Pharmacy." He explains.

"I'll keep that in the back of my head," Heather says mildly. "Hopefully the coroner will be able to come up with something. Far as I know, right now the leads are nil." She shrugs a bit and then smiles faintly. "I forgot to introduce myself. That was rude, I'm sorry. Heather Granger." She offers a hand. "I'm sorry we had to share a murdered body?" she offers.

Nash politely accepts the hand, giving a firm, but not painful grip when he shakes it. "Topper Nash, owner of Da Bing." He says, like she couldn't figure that out, she asked for him after all. "I've met in worse conditions, like being shot at in a ditch. Nothing phases me any more Miss Granger, I've spent to long in the military for things to phase me, I just accept the world as it comes at me."

With a nod, Heather gives a wry smile. "Well, that's the first person I've had murdered practically right next to me, but it's not the first horrible thing I've see for certain." She sips the champagne once more and then says with a smile, "And since I'm not exactly a connosieur of the dancers, I suppose I'll be going now. But I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me. I guess I was kind of hoping you might have known her because of your insistence on the CPR," she admits. "Right now I don't even think they have an ID, though I admit I'm not sure of that."

Nash blinks his eyes a few times at the last bit of information. "But she was an attendant, there should have been an ID Tag, or some thing. Hell, her State Issued ID. If they can't ID her, this mystery becomes all the more interesting, like the kid said, it's a Murder Mystery, one some one has to solve…" he says, musing quietly to him self after before giving a slight wave. "You can always come back to give your best shot on the stages or a table." He says, teasing Heather.

"If they found the ID on her, no one told me," Heather says. "That said… did I mention that it's not my case?" She offers a grin. "I can't prosecute the case because I was on the scene for it. I came looking for information on my own. And believe me when I tell you…" She looks at the girls dancing and smirks. "You couldn't afford me."

Nash stands when she challenges his ability to afford her, moving to pull out his wallet, this time, there isn't any cheap drink tickets in or the like, he just throws down a wad of hundreds, enough to choke most people, literally. "I beg to differ, I learned how the world works in Africa, money and diamonds can buy any one. We're in the city of Sinners, I'm sure some how, I could afford you. But Miss Granger, even if you think I can help you find information on this case, it may not be safe for me to tell you what I learn. I'm intending to track down the group responsible for this murder, and bring them to justice, one way or another." He says, leaving the money on the table as he settles back down, to gauge her reaction.

When he drops his wad on the table like that, Heather quirks a brow. "I stand corrected, Mr. Nash," she replies mildly. "That said, I'll rephrase myself and say 'sorry, your establishment isn't up to my standards if I were going to be a dancer.'" She studies him across the table and comments mildly, "If you take justice into your own hands in this country, you make yourself a criminal. I'd keep it in mind if you're tempted to the life of a vigilante."

Nash leans forward, for a moment, like a snake about to strike. "When I was growing up, this man was caught after killing and raping several teenage girls I went to school with. The cop who pulled his car over didn't have a warrant, and thus broke the law when he forced the trunk to find one of the victim's bodies. The man subsequently walked on every charge. I don't think that's Justice, do you?" He asks, trying to force her into relenting the system fails.

"No," Heather readily agrees. "It's not. And if the officer had been doing things right, that never would have happened. Which is why the warning — if you want to see this person in JAIL, it has to be done the RIGHT way. Or else we're no better than they are." She moves to stand up. "If you do find anything that can be acted on by the police… call them. It will be better for all concerned."

Nash smiles at Miss Granger as she gets ready to leave. "I'm half expecting the local government to declare this a terrorist attack or some thing, but if you get your hands on the tox report, get it to me. I may have been exposed, it's only fair I find out what it was, correct? Besides, I've more experience with this type of thing then any cop, wouldn't you agree?" He says, moving to fold the money back into his pocket. "Sides, I want the Camera Kid to know, he was involved, and this could be a big story, let him win his Pulitzer early."

"I wouldn't know your experience, Mr. Nash. But since you've invited me to look," Heather replies with a faint smile, "I think I will." She shrugs. "As for telling you anything? I suppose we'll see." She's promising him nothing.

Nash inclines his head a bit and gives a mock salute, the same thing he did with Zan. "Good hunting. Some thing tells me, you'll need it. If you get wind of the federal agencies getting involved, let me know, that lets me know the stakes got raised."


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