Harry looks at the closed store front. Then he looks at the cell phone in his dinner jacket.

"I've got a couple calls to make."

The now-"HOB alum" sits down on a nearby bench and pulls out his phone.

(ooc: going to call the store, buzzard, and artis in that order)

Harry calls the store phone.

*ring* *ring* *ring*

The phone's ringer light is within view from outside the security gate. Obviously, no one's home to answer.

Harry then tries Buzzard's personal phone.

It begins ringing, but no one is answering. As they wait for some sort of response from the other end, Brian faintly hears a cel-phone's ringer in the background...possibly coming from the back room of the antique store.

"He's in there, at least his phone is. Anyone know how to pick a lock?"

(Edited by Threadbare at 6:08 am on Dec. 21, 2002)

Back at the police station...

---

*A ruckus, eh ? Looks like Steward might get arrested if they find out he started the gunfight, but then we'll never find the guys he's working for.*

"If you wouldn't mind, Detective, I'd like to come with you. I'd also like to find out just what really happened at the show."

"Ahem, Harry, you know how to pick a lock."

"I know how to try to pick a lock. That's a wee bit different from actually doing it. Anyone have a bobby pin or something?"

Harry casts around for materials as he offers up a prayer (and an action die) to Hermes, greek god of theivery and politics.

Brian chuckles softly, listening to the cell phone and the lock conversation.

"I've got a gun...and I'm sure door charges can be had somewhere in this town."

He grins somewhat devilishly as they debate the _actual_ way to pick a lock.

Gavin, Harry, and Brian go to the back service entrance of the antique store. It's your standard steel security door, with its hinges on the inside. The locks are your typical deadbolt/doorkey combination...pretty pedestrian for even the modest lockpicker.

Well, the locks turned out to be a bit tougher to pick than expected. Most of the trouble came from a few curious maintenance workers who were passing by and the occasional mall employee who had been sneaking back to catch a smoke while the boss was out.

All in all, they get the door open after a few minutes of toiling. Harry sighs with a lamenting tone as the door finally clicks open, the crack of the back hallway lighting revealing a dimly-lit storage room. On the floor lays a corpse...its blood slowly beginning to pool beneath it.

Osprey keeps his gun out and up, laser sight and all the other trimmings on as he works his way around the room, clearing it of any...unwelcome customers.

"Looks like Stewart and Company just upped the ante."