Name: Jack (Jacky) Greyson Bombay (The Parrot of Midnight Cove)
Weight: 172 lbs
Ethnicity: Caucasian American
Birthplace: Point Pleasant, Canada
[I was on an Eminence Front. Just a put on really, I was
dressed to kill just so the scene fit. I had Matching shoes too. Waiting at my
desk for too long allowed all sorts of creative ideas to float into my brain
pan. There was not anything really else to do. The police station was dressed
in filing cabinets and working spaces so cramped you might as well be slaving
in a basement making shoes for some Korean man. I eyed Officer Brighton from
across our conjoined office. The lazy bastard was mulling about with some kind
"What’s an Eminence Front?"
[Brighton finished the sentence he was writing and took all the deliberate moves to avoid talking to me for as long as possible. He placed down his pen and sorted out the papers before looking up from across his desk shooting me the queerest look he could.]
"It's ok, people forget..." [I said, snuffing out a lucky right on my hardwood desk]
[Brighton didn't say anything to me, he stared for a moment with those dull cow eyes of his. After a pause shook his head and went back to whatever it is he was doing. Important police work was usually the case with him. I was prepared to berate him further to pass the time when the blower rang. I rolled my eyes and gawked at the receiver with distaste; probably because it was another tourist with sausage crammed up their nose. I waited for the ringing to stop but it never came. I conceded defeat and lifted the phone up to my ear.]
"Brody's Pizza an Deli, yer ordah in thirty minutes or its free, so what'll it be" [My southern drawl was a little rusty, but I was confident enough to fool my own mother.]
"Detective Bombay, I have a job for you. I presume freelance work is not outside your reputation?"
[The man’s voice was cold and I don't mean in a sinister way. I've talked with Coroners and they had livelier voices then whoever was on the other end.]
"If you’re looking for me to spy on your wife the-"
"Perhaps I have not made myself clear detective. What I am interested in is a passenger ship offshore."
"I can't swim to good"
"My client is in possession of important material, he has found himself in a position where said material will soon no longer be private."
"Alright, and who will I be working for?"
"I can't say..."
"Well Bruno, that’s not the way I do business. Call me back when you can say"
"Before you hang up, Detective. I'd like you to take a look at your bank account..."
[I was on the nut already, no berries or cabbage to call my own. I entertained the notion and did as the man said. Dropping the phone down next to my hip I booted up my account with my free hand. Even while wearing cheaters inside I read the balance correctly. I double checked to make sure I wasn't being yanked. The case didn't set well in my stomach but now I had no real reason to turn the man down. Raising the phone back up to my ear I spoke one word and he hung up on me. I made a few other calls later that day to follow it up. Apparently the police had always been one step behind this issue. So I knew I could get that close, question was; could I get closer? I had a few tricks of my own so I wasn't going to flip before they got a chance to resign the offer.]
[ I sat in my Delorean across the street staring out over at the pawn shop. The crappy little store was at the corner of the Heron and Wharf Ave which meant everyone had a grand standing view of the scene I prepared myself to walk into. Even from the distance I was at I could see a fine mess of blood splattered all over the ceiling to floor glass windows. It was enough blood that you might have trouble believing it came from one person.]
[ My eyes found Elene, the local news hound. She was the kind of woman who got real close with her feminine wiles then stabbed you in the heart on air. She had amazing sources, always arrived on scene before the cops could kick her out, which meant that buggy eyed loser of a camera-man got all the gory shots he could take. They had a habit of making the department look like fools, on that note, who wasn't?]
"Don't forget the vase..."
[I reminded myself. I hawked some priceless heirloom someone left in my house for a measly twenty dollars. Now that the owner was smeared all across his store I wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to get it back. I rolled up my window and rolled out of my car, donning my fedora snug before I headed into the fray. I stalked to the front of the store with my hands buried deep in my pockets. The salty air that creeps in from the shore smelled bad, a mix of rotting seaweed and boat oil. I saw Elene busy with the first responders trying to grill them for all they were worth. I took it as a sign of good luck as I managed to slip into the store unnoticed by her prodding eyes.]
[As I pushed the glass door open I was immediately slapped in the face. I forgot that the pawn shop owner was old and kept the heat on to an almost unbearable level. His corpse had been smoldering in it all night, which made my nostrils cringe with the scent of cooked flesh. He was everywhere. I was admiring the entrails that were sloshed out atop of the counter when I nearly stepped on the mans arm. My shoes crunched into the carpet which began to seep forth blood. I scoffed at the carnage before me and stepped around what was left of him as I made my way to an officer taking pictures of a finger that had been tossed onto a suede couch.]
[The man flinched, he wasn't expecting me to be standing over him when he took his eyes off the focus lens.]
" Oh, hey jack...this place is a fucking mess."
"Yeah I noticed. Looks like someone was a fan of the movie Fargo. To bad no one told him it was done outside in the snow."
"What have you got so far?"
" Your the detective, My troubles are trying to figure out where the rest of him is so I can catalog it for evidence, You'll find most of him behind the counter..."
[I took a look over at the counter then back at the officer who was still kneeling down next to the bloody couch.]
"I'll take your word for it..."
[I had a method for my madness, everything I needed was in this room, it was just a matter of where I started. Rookie detectives started with the body then worked outwards. I had a different approach. Reaching for my cigarettes I popped one out and shoved a lucky between my lips. The stench was nearly unbearable and I couldn't think straight unless there was a familiar smell around me; smoke. I played with my zippo and opened it with a trick, lighting my lucky in a bar game fashion. Breathing deep I inhaled as much toasted smoke one could muster and blew it all around me.]
" This is just a guppy that got ate by the larger fish..."
"Sir there's no smoking at a crim-"
"Shut it copper, I'm the detective remember? You just keep flashing that Nikon of yours and ill do the hard work."
[The officer grumbled and hissed under his breath but did as he was told. There wasn't much to work with. I would have to wait to hear from the crime lab before I could cue in any leads. but I figured walking around the place wouldn't hurt either. I laid eyes on everything in the store. Nothing had been stolen and aside from the obvious struggle nothing had been shattered or broken. Whoever attacked the old man had done so quickly and the mess was just a product of the human body being torn to shreds. No weapon I knew of could do this kind of damage and with such a radius.]
"We have people on that right now, they are canvasing the area but you know the drill at night the best we will manage is that someone heard commotion and thought it was just alley cats fighting."
[A curse escaped my lips. I did not like sitting around, but without any significant tails to chase I could run around in circles till I got dizzy. I certainly was getting paid enough to waste department dollar and time with wild goose chases but if my hunch was right then waiting would prove to be virtue. Something was just below the water-line and when it surfaced I would have to make sure i was in the right place at the wrong time. The call I had received just a day prior now looked to be a god-send]
"I'm going to squeeze some hands see what comes out..."
[The officer did not respond to me, I was testing him. While he wasn't looking I fingered through the antiques finding the vase I sold to the old man propped in the window display. As I went for it Elene caught sight of me through the glass and gave me her usual triumphant stare. I returned the fake smile and grabbed the vase, carrying it under my arm as i exited the store.]
"Shopping detective? I didn't know stealing was department policy. I have a few questions to ask."
"You already asked a question that's your limit."
"Oh really? Mind telling me what the vase is all about?"
"Oh no, not at all. just not now, or ever..."
[By this time Elene's cameraman sneaked his way into my path. I treated him like i did an old saloon door and pushed passed him, knocking him to the ground.]
"Assault!, That truly is a nice trick detective."
"Contaminating a crime scene. that's up the 5 years in jail. get off lady."
"Fine,Fine. But when this airs you can be sure Sanders will get revenge for me."
"Sanders would. The pact you two women have with each other is so vile."
[I stomped my way back over to my Delorean making sure to secure the vase I just stole in the passenger seat. I slammed the wing door shut on my way in and brought the Delorean to life with a hard rev.Peeling out of the space I double parked in I cruised past Elene in a fury. As I drove down Heron street towards Hyacinth Lane I noticed the news van parked at the end of the street. My car stopped just beyond it and I struck the car into reverse. I backed up into the van just hard enough to give it a nice fender bender, blowing out one of its tail lights. I slapped the gear back into drive and sped off before Elene and her cameraman could react or catch me on camera. I needed to start my investigation on the beach, if my employeer was sincere and not merely blowing smoke up my ass then whatever answers I needed for the pawn shop would most certainly be there.]
Day 3 + 4
Jack is a very docile individual. Others are fooled by his nature, believing he's an approachable person, yet when he speaks they could almost swear that his tongue was forked and fire spewed from his mouth. The detective uses his mastery of the spoken language as a weapon, coining the term "verbal judo". Jack believes there is no situation that cannot be talked out of, rightfully so, since he has never discharged his revolver during his entire service career in Midnight Cove. His slick tongue is the reason he is called The Parrot, because when he speaks, everyone listens.
Jack also has a devils sense of humor. No matter how tragic the situation or horrific the scene he always manages to crack wise ass jokes. This behavior comes off as Brash and to put things simply, people think he is an asshole. His personality is overshadowed by the colossus of his social Fax pas. Bombay is a very awkward individual, in that; he will go out of his way to avoid physical contact with people. Handshakes or a pat on the back is a very large upset in his world. Contact in this manner sends jack towards rage and anxious fits. The reason for his social lapses comes from his senses of feeling being completely dulled. This is not out of an over sized ego, but simply a lack of trust in anyone but himself at a very severe level.
Jacks Strengths include his masterful execution of the spoken word, to which he prides himself on greatly. Only having been in the situation twice, Jack has successfully negotiated both incidents ending the conflict with no one harmed. To this end, the Department can still find no one more qualified for the position despite the numerous applications filled out year after year. Another skill jack possess is his keen attention to detail and his unhindered ability to problem solve. Both of these skills have been honed over the course of his detective career. It is said he can always be found with a crossword or Sudoku puzzle in hand when not actively engaged in a case. This allows him to keep his mind sharp and aware. Finally, and as a party piece, Jack is an underground master of the saxophone. Even though he has never played to a crowd, several people have listened in on his many lonely sessions within the police station locker room. His choice in music is busting out serene and melodic Blues rhythms and on occasion crazy upbeat Jazz. Self taught in the craft, some have wondered how a man with such a busy and stressful life could manage the free time to play. For jack this is an easy answer. His house is barren and spacious, because he only occupies one room of the building. Void of any decorations and even basic comforts, jacks only technological link to the outside world is an old rotary dial phone. This device would not even adorn the house if it weren't mandatory for his call of duty.
Bombay is not without his weaknesses as a person which causes draw backs to his everyday life. Whatever life Jack ran away from, starting from day one at Midnight Cove he has developed an acute and severe case of manic depression. This may have been brought forth due to his many years as a homicide investigator. The every day scene of mutilated corpses and mystery serial killers certainly has taken its toll on jack’s mental status. This however is a symptom, the root of his problem stems from the initial months of outbreak in his previous residency of Point Pleasant. Only god knows of the atrocities jack was forced to commit during his escape from the town. Another interesting drawback lies within jack’s sexual performance. Jack is physically and mentally unable to be turned on by any of the normality's during intercourse. Even the smallest gasp of pleasure causes him great discomfort. Whatever jack endured in Point Pleasant is the reason he lives in silence. With only his saxophone to rest his sweater of a soul which has numerous moth holes, jack prefers the serenity only captured in a full room of silence.
Other Physical Characteristics:
Jack owns only a few significant identifiable marks. Foremost being his sunken eyes with vivid crow’s feet pouring from his sockets. This characteristic gives him a haunting glare and tired expression at all times. Jacks eyes have seen more gruesome things than most people will ever encounter throughout their whole lives. Unending hours on the job coupled with double, even triple shifts have visibly worn this man to the stake. Every waking moment he is exhausted. Lastly, and the most prominent marking on jack is his tattoo. Tribal vines snake and shoot across his entire body, ending on his forearm. A joyous and vibrant heart nestles against his skin near the elbow, where it is impaled by the violent tendrils that lace his body. Several conclusions have been drawn as to the meaning behind his choice of body art, but out of respect for Jack he has not been asked as to its true purpose.Character Clothing:
Jack is partial only to clothing that is functional. On top of that, he only owns enough clothing to last him a week. This tight spending leaves him wearing the same attire over and over. So it’s no surprise to anyone when he shows up with the same dress pants, white collared shirt and black tie every day. It should be said however, that the only extraordinary article of clothing he owns is that canvas trench coat. The coat was given to him by a woman he knew in the past, and is the only thing he considers of value that he owns. Oddly enough you could rip jack out of an old Shamus novel complete with fedora and a lanky figure. Jack also keeps and maintains a set of Bostonian dress shoes, keeping them polished and without blemish at all times.Occupation: Homicide Detective / Negotiator (adjunct)
[x1] - Green Canvas trench coat (Given to Jack by a long lost love, Lauren)
[x1] - Steel flask (Smirnoff vodka)
[x1] - Leather wallet (w/ $23 cash)
[x1] - Steel Zippo Lighter (Mirror finish) ("Rawrens >:3" engraved on the surface)
[x3] - Lucky Strike ( soft pack) ("Its Toasted", "The cigarette that won World War II")
[x1] - Brown Fedora hat (crushable)
[x1] - Aviator Sunglasses (Mirror tint)
[x42] - .357 Magnum round (Hollow point)
[x1] - Vintage Police beacon light (Magnetic) (12v) [In Vehicle]
[x1] - Selmer Paris 54 Super Action 80 Series II Tenor Saxophone (usually kept inside his locker at the police station, he plays it after hours, alone)
Recently Acquired Items:
[x4] Small bag of Cheez-Its
[x2] Small bag of Snider Pretzels
[x1] Small bag of Lays White Cheddar Popcorn
[x2] Small pack of Twizzlers
[x2] Snickers Candy Bar
Weapon - [Colt King Cobra] (American, double-action, revolver)
Round: .357 Magnum
Range Increment: 50 ft
Rate of Fire: S
Magazine: 6 cylinder
Weight: 3 lbs
Ground Vehicle: 1982 Delorean DMC-12 (2 door, coupe)
---Rear Wheel Drive
---Rack and pinion steering
---5 speed Manual
---130mph (0-60 in 9 seconds) (153 lbs torque)
---2.8-litre SOHC Light-alloy 90deg V6, with overhead camshafts.
---Weight: (2712 lbs - with full tank)
---Fuel Capacity: 51.6 liters (13.2 gallons)
---Counter-balanced gull-wing doors
---Wheels: Front: (14 inches x 6 inches) Rear: (15 inches x 8 inches)
---Power assisted discs, front and rear brakes
---Stainless steel body panels
---Leather seats and trim
---Multi-speaker, high output stereo system with cassette
---Tilt and telescopic steering wheel
---Dual electric remote side mirrors
---Central door locking system
---Body side moldings
---Intermittent windshield wipers
---Sylvania halogen headlamps
---Electric rear window defogger
[Level 6]---Acute Vision (2) "What has been seen cannot be unseen."
[Level 4]---Alertness (5) "What was that?"
[Level 7]---Charisma (5) "I jammed the Roscoe in his buttons and said 'Shut your yap, Bo, or I squirt metal.' "
[Strength]---Common Sense (10) "This seems obvious enough."
[Strength]---Intuition (15) "I got a bad feeling about this."
[Strength]---Lightning Calculator (5) " Through rapid deduction I have concluded that you...are a moron."
[Level 4]---Mathematical Ability (10) "Doesn't everyone speak in binary?"
[Level 10]---Musical Ability (1) "Bach can suck my clarinet."
[Level 4]---Strong Will (4) "Train hard, fight easy and live. Or train easy, fight hard and die..."
[Strength]---Voice (10) "Woman's knees give out when they hear me, yeah, I'm that slick."
--Severe Alcoholism (20) "A rain to wash my soul clean..."
--Bad Temper (10) " You touched me, what-The-FUCK!!!!"
--Bully (10) "That's funny, last time I checked I was wearing the badge and you were keeping your mouth shut."
--Code of Honor (10) "Puzzles must always be solved with Logic and Reason above all else."
--Curiosity (5) "I wonder what makes this tick."
--Delusions (15) "The night terrors do not stop even when I'm awake."
--Foul Mouth (5) "Are you gonna get down off that ledge jackass or are you gonna go crunchy crunchy on me, your holding up the line."
--Honesty (10) "Yes, you look fat in that dress."
--Intimidation (10) "I dress sharp, I act sharp and certainly do not take shit from you."
--Jealousy (10) "I wish I was someone else, I wish I could live like them, They all fucking take it for granted."
--Mental Illness [Manic Depression] (20) "Why wont this nightmare of a life end?"
--Miserliness (10) "It's my money, I earned it, why should I just give it the hell away?"
--Odious Personal Habits (15) "Do not touch me. Period."
--Paranoia [People] (10) "They are all just sacks of flesh for some great evil..."
--Poverty (5) "I live from paycheck to paycheck."
[Level 1]---Musical Instrument (Saxophone) (4)
[Level 1]---Writing (3)
[Level 2]---Brawling (2)
[Level 2]---Fast-Draw (2)
[Level 1]---Pistol (3)
[Level 1]---Speed Load (2)
[Level 1]---Mechanic (General Automobile) (3)
[Level 1]---Gesture (2)
[Level 1]---Telegraphy (Morse Code) (2)
[Level 2]---Diagnosis (4)
[Level 1]---First Aid (2)
[Level 1]---Surgery (5)
[Level 1]---Fishing (2)
[Level 1]---Survival (Temperate Forest) (3)
[Level 1]---Tracking (3)
[Level 2]---Law (4)
[Level 1]---Anatomy (4)
[Level 1]---Criminology (3)
[Level 1]---Forensics (4)
[Level 1]---Literature (4)
[Level 1]---Mathematics (4)
[Level 1]---Occultism (3)
[Level 1]---Psychology (4)
[Level 4]---Acting (3)
[Level 1]---Area Knowledge (Midnight Cove) (2)
[Level 3]---Diplomacy (4)
[Level 4]---Fast-Talk (3)
[Level 3]---Intimidation [acting] (3)
[Level 3]---Savoir-Faire (Manners) (2)
[Level 1]---Detect Lies (4)
[Level 1]---Disguise (3)
[Level 1]---Escape (4)
[Level 1]---Forgery (4)
[Level 1]---Intelligence Analysis (4)
[Level 1]---Interrogation (3)
[Level 1]---Lip Reading (3)
[Level 1]---Pickpocket (4)
[Level 1]---Shadowing (3)
[Level 1]---Sleight of Hand (4)
[Level 1]---Streetwise (3)
[Level 1]---Driving (Sports Coupe) (3)
[The air felt rather dry today. I could almost swear that I was being blinded by low hanging fog from the cove, but hey, this was a fucked up town anyhow. I sparked a Lucky and barged in through the front doors. My hand pushed aside a steel plated oak door, it needed to be refinished; someone might think the town was a bunch of cheap assholes. I as an upstanding citizen would not dare to allow our police force to slack off. The Station had that low hanging mist of stress, and the incessant rape to the earlobes of phones ringing off the hook.]
"Tell me what we got people..."
Brighton looked up from his desk at me, phone in hand "what,besides four dead hookers and no answer for the people?"
"This Is Afric-Midnight Cove, my bad..."
It was Hazel that spoke up second. "I walked a full sweep for nearly Two hours, not a one talked to me."
"Try breath mints."
Hazel sneered at me "yeah, yeah. What about you hot shot. anything worth shit?"
[Pausing for only a moment I shot Hazel K. the ugliest look a man could muster. It was enough to make her expression change, she thought she had crossed my boundaries. I smiled at her notion and swiveled mid step causing myself to fall into a heap on my chair. My hands were buried deep in my coat pockets like I had something to hide or pout about. I rose my fedora just to see what Brighton was doing: he had an earful of angry tourist on the line, no need to bother him.]
"Speaking of the chief, where is that cheap ass Sander?"
"Hes with the Mayor I thin-" [Hazel said before I cut her off.]
"Of fucking course he is, probably sucking off Faulk's fat cock..."
[I huffed and puffed, letting my lungs pour smoke all around me. I was feeling edgy. I knew I should of been doing something important to the case but somehow I got the feeling like it wouldn't matter. Funny really, I got that feeling a lot lately. Nothing got solved during the summer. The town nearly quadrupled in size and with all the Japs to Jews it was hard to finger anyone long enough to press em. We might of been able to crack down if the police stations force was larger then the children's choir. Fuck it though. You get an earful of people telling you to 'work with what you got', that's just what you try to do. At least you tell yourself that at night before you to go bed.]
"I heard the feds started sniffing around, if they get a chance to see our ass they will stick the same stick that's up theirs, up ours...Ill see what I can't do to stall em or lead em on a false trail. You two keep at it, Lets solve at least one damn case this season, eh?"
"Heh, yeah" [Brighton snorted, taking a glance off his note pad long enough for his eyes to meet mine.]
"I do not envy you..." [Hazel chuckled as she dug her heels back into the paperwork.]
[The grimace on my face could of melted cold dead hookers. Since I was looking for their killer, might as well put my feelings to good use. I rocked forward and stood up tall, my Bostonian shoes made a fine clap of a noise as they hit hardwood floor. I stalked out of the station and back into the shroud of fog around me...]