DATE: Tuesday, June 2, 1998
Place: The High Note

---- Recall start ----

Nigel walks into the dark confines of the club from the street outside, to 
   where one of the other employees waits to take his coat.
JJ Malone is settled in a booth at the back, much as he appears many of the 
   other times they've met here.
Nigel walks in, carrying a large binder with pages sticking out of it 
   jaggedly. His face bears the weary-but-satisfied look of someone who's just 
   finished a term paper, and when he spots JJ he gets a tight little smile. 
   He works his way across the floor and sits down at the booth.
JJ Malone's slender fingertips tap at the table and his tumbler of water with 
   nervous energy, which ceases as Nigel sits down. "Evening. World didn't 
   come to an end while I was gone?" he jokes straight-facedly.
Nigel appears to take the question seriously. "Air pollution's up five 
   percent, there seems to be some sort of cold going around, and Ginger Spice 
   left the Spice Girls." He sets his binder down. "And the so-called 'Seattle 
   Historical Society' really needs some help with their web site. How'd your 
   trip go?"
JJ Malone grimaces with distaste. "Successful, but..." The self-confident 
   ahroun does something he rarely does, and trails off, a puzzled frown 
   turning down the corners of his mouth. "Interesting in a truly twisted way. 
   I don't really think here would be approrpriate to discuss it," he adds 
   with visible reluctance. Instead, he indicates the binder. "What's that?"
Nigel opens it up, displaying photocopies of newspaper pages. From the font 
   and headlines, the newspapers were quite old. "I did a little more digging 
   on Peter Bartholomew. Remember him, the railroad builder who had trouble 
   with the 'savages' and was missing, presumed decapitated?"
JJ Malone scratches the bridge of his nose, leaning over to look at the 
   photocopies. "Not really. What about him?"
Nigel spreads some pages around, shuffling some chronicalogical order into 
   them. "Well, it struck me as odd that his attempt to build a railway 
   between St. Claire and Seattle (and subsequent misfortune) would coincide 
   with what the media reports as an earthquake, and what I *think* was the 
   arrival, the first time, of the Big Problem in the Woods. And in checking 
   on what happened after his death, I came across a familiar name."
JJ Malone's brows lower and the skin around his sunglasses tightens as if his 
   eyes narrow behind the mirrored lenses. "Let me guess. Our mysterious 
   friend?"
Nigel taps a piece of paper, another photocopy but this time of a handwritten 
   page. "Close. Damn hard to find out what happened to the Bartholomew 
   fortune after his death, harder than it probably *should* have been, but 
   this letter between a captain at the St. Claire fort mentions that upon 
   Bartholomew's death in the woods, his brother inherited. David...Turner."
JJ Malone's eyebrows go up a fraction. Picking up on the significance, 
   quickly, he asks, "What apparent relation?"
Nigel spreads his hands. "If that information ever existed, it's been buried 
   deeper than Hoffa."
"Interesting," J.J. says musingly, expression thoughtful. "Somewhat of a 
   common surname, though. What else did you find?"
Nigel flips pages, looking somewhat sulky at J.J.'s blase attitude. 
   "Well...this may or may not be relevant. He left a 24-year old widow. No 
   pictures or descriptions survive." He pauses. "Shades, Bartholomew was one 
   of the richest men in Seattle. Under normal circumstances, the financial 
   records of his estate should have been accessible to any undergrad, but 
   there's big holes in the data from that time period. It's just a hunch, but 
   I think we've got a 'Holmes's Dog' scenario here."
JJ Malone's eyes narrow. "Widow? Obituary?" he probes.
Nigel shakes his head. "Looked in all the papers. Could be coincidence, but no 
   obituary I could find listed the widow's name." He takes his glasses off 
   and rubs his eyes. "Microfiches aren't particularly friendly 
   machines...look, is it all right to tell me why you were asked about" he 
   lowers his voice "you-know, in the first place? Where does she fit in all 
   this?"
"Marriage license?" J.J. follows-up with, but then leans forward to rest 
   forearms on the edge of the table, looking mildly frustrated and therefore 
   slightly on edge under this halfmoon. "I didn't get asked about it, to 
   start with. The info fell into my lap. I have theories why, and from whom, 
   and if I'm right, I might raise holy hell with the family of a certain 
   city. Now, we're looking for a connection, a *real*, tangible, provable 
   connection, to that force threatening the woods. Andrea and Patrick seems 
   to think one exists, although they haven't given me any good reason why, 
   except for visions from Native American spirits or some shit like that."
Nigel blinks. "'Visions from'...bugger." He ponders this for a moment. "Well, 
   hmm. Look, I'd swear in court that David Turner's a relative of 
   Ashley...it's the only place all that money could have come from. If she's 
   half as good as Jayson's friends on the net have hinted, then we won't have 
   much luck finding out anything much about her in the library--she'll have 
   had too much time to cover her tracks."
JJ Malone ticks his fingernails on the edge of his glass. "City Hall, maybe, 
   and I agree that the circumstantial evidence seems to point that 
   direction." He eyes the binder. "Anything else in there about this?"
Nigel rubs his chin. "One more circumstantial thing. The rails in the 1870s 
   were controlled by the Bartholomew Railroad Company, but by the time the 
   rails were actually built here in St. Claire, and the surrounding woods, 
   the owner and builder was Turner Rails." He sighs. "So, what do you think?"
JJ Malone rubs his chin with the webbing between thumb and forefinger of his 
   left hand. "Sounds like you might be on to something, but I'm still not 
   sure if we can link A into C as anymore than happenstance. Not as if that 
   matters entirely." He smiles something more like a baring of teeth. "Might 
   be useful to take her down, regardless, especially when she's not in *our* 
   city."
Nigel nods. "If I had to guess with what little info I have, I'd guess this 
   might all be revenge. Someone with power was upset enough at Bartholomew's 
   death that they somehow brought up...Our Problem to get back at his 
   attackers. And if Ashley isn't that person, then she at least was probably 
   around for the show. That's what I think."
JJ Malone's eyes narrow behind the sunglasses. "Maybe," he says cautiously. 
   "Maybe. I still want more information before drawing any conclusions. 
   That's something the rangers do, not us." He checks his watch, his mouth 
   twitching. "I need to get going. Bailey's finally ready to report, and I 
   need to turn some information over to him. See you tomorrow?"
Nigel smiles a little and checks his watch. "Tomorrrow, definitely. I'll check 
   City Hall in the morning."
JJ Malone slides to his feet. "Good. Au revoir, then," he says before turning 
   and heading out.

---- Recall end ----