The Great Kettle Mystery - III. Bailed out

Bailed out

Main Room(#7071RLnA)

An old and battered desk sits facing the door. There is a wooden chair behind it, and two in front - all as aged as the desk. Two windows face the street, letting in both light and air (when the shutters are open), and a long rough bench runs along the wall to the left. At some point in the distant past, the walls had been white-washed cleanly, but now they are dingy and faded. Scarred wooden planks make up the floor and the ceiling is tall, and high enough to be out of range of people\'s heads. Torches hang in metal brackets, no doubt made by the town\'s metalsmiths. At the back of the room, just to the side of the desk (guarded by it, one might think, by its proximity) is a heavy wooden door.

Obvious exits:

Street and Door to the Hallway

================================== Bree Time ==================================

Real time: Thu Sep 03 14:23:33 2009

Bree time: Morning on Sunday of Autumn - November 7,1447

Moon Phase: New  Moon

===============================================================================

It is mid-morning now, and the November sun slants across the cobbles and through the open window of the Breeguard building, falling on the battered-looking desk leaning against one wall. Right now that desk is doing duty as a breakfast table (perhaps even second breakfast?). Sitting at it, swinging his legs as he munches contentedly on a slice of toast and marmalade, is Brandebras Bywater. Rumour had it that the hobbit has been \'assisting the Breeguard with their enquiries\', but judging by present appearances he\'s been assisting them instead in clearing their pantry.

Watching him is a rather bored-looking Breeguard trying to light a pipe. \'Trying\', because the window is letting in more than just light. One shutter has been torn clean off its hinges, and great gusts of wind sweep into the building, causing the fire on the hearth to smoke and occasionally lifting papers. \"Where is that dratted carpenter?\" he grumbles aloud. \"Thought Harry\'d gone to get someone ...\"

[Brock(#17211)] Dratted Carpenter, otherwise known as Brock Rushlight, steps in from the street. He looks like he hasn\'t been awake all that long--even if it is mid-morning--as he yawns widely and then rakes his calloused fingers through his hair - the shaggy growth looks like a comb would certainly do it good.

\"Morning..\" Brock says as he stiffles another cavernous yawn.

\"I .. uh .. good morning,\" the middle-aged Breeguard mumbles, dipping his cap to the newly arrived Brock. \"You come to see about the shutter? Wind blew it clean off its hinges last night. Terrible mess! Needs fixed, see - can\'t be having that in an Office of the Law.\"

\"Good morning to you too!\" pipes up Brandebras through his last mouthful of toast crumbs. \"You were the man outside the Pony, weren\'t you. Have you come to tell them I\'m innocent? It\'s high time I was released! Though,\" he adds thoughtfully, \"they do have very good breakfast here.\"

The Breeguard glances at the now-empty tray, and scowls.

[Brock(#17211)] The carpenter furrows his brows as he looks around the room--looks harder at both the wind damage to the building and towards Brandebras--and then pats a heavy work belt that is slung around the waist before being cinched by a heavy, solid, buckle. \"Yes.\" He says that without pause (to the guard) but then the furrows in his brow deepen and he frowns as he looks more intently at the accused. \"I .. well possibly yes. Though I\'m still not sure how you could have ended up with that pot.\"

Brandebras beams at the carpenter. \"You see?\" he tells the Breeguard. \"Someone does believe me. And I still don\'t know how the pot got on my table, but it wasn\'t me who put it there!\"

The Breeguard, busy clearing a stool for Brock to sit down on and a space to lay out his tools, hmmphs, then moves closer to his fellow Big Person to murmur in Brock\'s ear, \"Seems a shame to keep the little blighter cooped up like that - if you ask me he doesn\'t have the wits to commit a burglary. Sent Ted to take another look at the crime scene, to see if he could pick up any evi-\"

\"It isn\'t a crime scene!\" interrupts Brandebras indignantly (hobbits, of course, have sharp hearing). \"It\'s my house.\"

Brock starts pulling essential tools from his utility-belt so that he can put them down in the space cleared for them. He nods a thanks to the Breeguard for the consideration regarding the stool and the space made beside it. He eyes up the damaged shutters and makes some mental calculations about what\'s needed (you can just about hear the cogs ticking around within his skull) before he cocks his head and listens to the words about the Hobbit and the \'crime scene\'.

A rumbling laugh spills over Brock\'s lips. \"I agree with you whole heartedly. Couldn\'t you..\" He glances at the prisoner \"...grant him bail or something?\" Here he smiles at Brandebras in a good-natured, rough around the edges way.

The Breeguard watches the carpenter\'s preparations anxiously. \"Do you have everything you need?\" At the mention of bail a slow, thoughtful smile spreads across his stubbled face.

Brandebras returns the smile with almost pathetic eagerness - here, at last, is someone on His Side! \"Thank you, Mister-\"

At that moment they are interrupted by another fellow wearing a Breeguard\'s cap, and a shiny brass buckle on the belt that stretches across his ample midriff. \"Morning, Ernie,\" he greets his fellow, and to the tacit look of enquiry he shakes his head. \"Didn\'t find anything. House was as neat as a new pin. As for the garden ... well, there /might/ have been a bootmark or two, but the place was all trampled. He must have been bobbing in and out like a yoyo.\"

[Brock(#17211)] \"Aye, should have everything I need right here - unless we run into some unexpected difficulties somewhere along the lines.\" Brock says with another sidelong glance at the space where the shutter\'s hanging from a broken hinge on the frame. \"Only thing I can really see needing is /perhaps/ a handful of decent nails - that last lot I had were softer\'n ...\" He shakes his head as he realises that he\'s rambling.

Brock says to Brandebras once Ernie\'s words have been heard. \"There you go! Just some boot-marks -- /you/ don\'t wear boots do you?\" He grins a bit.

The Breeguard addressed as Ernie nods, slowly, at the report. \"I see ... Ted,\" he eyes his hapless companion sternly, \"go and get some nails, will you? These here shutters need fixed.\" He eyes Brandebras quizzically at Brock\'s question.

The hobbit stretches out one furry foot for inspection. Crumbs, a bit of fluff - most definitely no boots to be seen! Solemnly, he shakes his head and blinks at Brock. \"No, of course I don\'t! And,\" his rosy cheeks turn a deeper shade of red, \"I did go in and out a few times after I found the pot. First I thought I\'d go and see Mrs Kettleston, and then I thought maybe I shouldn\'t, and then I thought I\'d better take the pot with me, and then I thought I should have some breakfast first ...\"

[Brock(#17211)] \"Seems like whoever framed the little Master there was someone who wore boots, big boots?\" Brock asks - the question is mostly addressed to Brandebras but partially to Ernie as the guard was the one who saw the foot-prints.

Mr. Rushlight rubs his hands together and then ambles towards the window in need of repair. \"Well I best get to this. Think I\'ll start by taking the broken frame parts out and measuring up whilst someone goes for those nails -and- considers bail for Brandebras there..\" He nods towards the hapless hobbit.

The fellow who\'s been sent for nails bobs his head, nervously, as he disappears into the inner room in search of said nails. The other, presumably senior, taps his unlit pipe thoughtfully against the table. \"So it would seem.\" He gives Brock\'s feet a sudden sharp glance. Then his frowning gaze moves on to the empty tray and the wall-cupboard of provisions that is starting to look rather bare, and he heaves a long sigh. \"Well now,\" he says officiously. \"Bootmarks sounds like evidence of breaking and entry to me. We\'ll need to keep a watch on you of course, Mister Bywater, but I\'m going to let you out on bail.\"

\"What?\" asks Brandebras, round face perplexed.

\"I said you can go home,\" explains the Breeguard with exaggerated slowness, rolling his eyes in Brock\'s direction. Some hobbits ...

Brock laughs from behind his thick-fingered, tough-skinned, hand and smiles at Brandebras. \"Your day just got better, eh?\" He shakes his head in mild amusement but then he too looks down at his boots.

\"Hey don\'t go putting me in your suspects book just \'cause I wear boots ... so do lots o\' folks.\" He sighs and starts work on the damaged window area -- soon bits of splintered wood are falling to the floor.

Indeed, Brandebras brightens immediately. \"I can be home in time for lunch!\" he exclaims. \"Thank you, Mister Breeguard and Mister - er, Carpenter.\" Then something occurs to him. \"My pantry will be empty - you wouldn\'t mind if I just borrowed some butter, would you?\"

Resignedly the senior Breeguard crosses the floor to the half-empty storage shelves that are just about to get slightly emptier.

And yes, he does wear boots.