Chapter Text
“And why do you think this Violet girl is missing?”
The face of a police officer looking down at you from behind the polished wooden counter in the station, his chest puffed out under the strict rows of brass buttons on his navy jacket. There was something unusually menacing about his mustache. The normally-silly facial hair you saw on customers who paraded through when you were at work seemed to be symbols of vanity. They were an accessory that complemented the bespoke fabrics, precise measurements, and latest styles of sportcoats and trousers. On this man, however, it was something almost sinister. Like it was hiding what he was thinking.
“We live in the same building and she always comes home on time,” you explain. “I’ve known her for four years and she never goes out to the pubs after dinner. She never misses a day of work. Please, no one’s heard from her since she left work yesterday evening.”
“M-hm,” he responds, his tone doubtful. “And how old is this Violet?”
“She’s my age. Please, we’re all worried something terrible has happened to her. She wouldn’t just disappear like this.”
“A charming man can make any woman disappear,” he says, turning away to look through some papers on the desk. “She’s probably shacked up with him by now, or afraid to show her face if he left her after he was done with her.”
“Sir!” Your voice is louder and sharper than you thought it would be. Several other officers at desk behind the counter look up at you. The officer at the counter grows more rigid.
“I would not use that tone here,” he warns you.
“Sorry, but there have been disappearances all over Old Weft. Don’t you think it could be connected? The paper is reporting ten but I know it’s more than that, and it’s been going on longer. Don’t you think that’s something you should investigate?”
“Mr. Winston who has a successful business, a young wife and a child? Yes, that’s suspicious. Some unmarried girl goes out for a pint and doesn’t come back to her house mother? Check the mail. She’ll send you a postcard in a month when she’s married the man.” The officer sorts a few paper memos into piles. “Either that, or check the whorehouses.”
“People are going missing!” You don’t care about your tone anymore. “They could have been killed under your own noses and you’re still calling yourselves protectors?”
The station is suddenly a bit quieter. More than a few of the other officers are looking at you now but you really couldn’t give a damn.
The officer draws himself up to look even taller. “I would watch what you say about us, because one day you might find a friend of yours in real trouble.” He leans over the desk and his flat beady eyes stare straight at you. “Now if you don’t get out of here I will have you removed, do you understand? I can’t have you disturbing the peace in a police station, of all places.” He lowers his voice to hiss “Get out.”
Outside the station, you stand blankly watching the people walking by in the narrow cobbled street. The air has a new hint of cold in it, just enough to remind you what crisp fall mornings will be like. Lost in thought and trying to calm down, you barely register the people in colorful dresses, frock coats, tailored trousers, carrying baskets and boxes, canes and folded parasols, going home for the day, like Violet was.
If the authorities aren’t going to investigate, you have no choice but to try to do it yourself.
The sun is slowly setting, casting rays of light on the tops of the buildings. You’ll have to figure out what to do, and fast. The more time that passes after Violet went missing, the less people are likely to know or remember, and the less you’re likely to find.
You could try re-tracing the route Violet probably took that night from the shop to home. Would you be able to find anything significant along the way?
[To re-trace Violet’s steps, go to Chapter 2: The Shadows. TW: attempted abduction, blood.]
You could go to the pub on the corner that you and Violet always pass on the way back home. Someone might have seen her last night, or know more about the disappearances.
[To go to the pub and ask around, go to Chapter 3: The Lost Boy. TW: enclosed spaces, blood.]
You could go to the newspaper office. They’ve reported some of the disappearances, but not all of them. Maybe someone there knows something, or you could tell a reporter about the disappearances that they don’t know about.
[To go to the newspaper office, go to Chapter 4: The Reason.]