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THIS FILE IS PART OF
PROJECT PETRA
PROCEED AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION
Field Agent Richard Baedeker:
Age 34, experienced field agent, several years of experience. Personal life confined.
Field Agent Harold Pryor:
Age 29, rookie field agent, one year of experience. Personal life bland. Assigned to document this file.
Field Agent Sarah Whitney:
Age 27, experienced field agent, several years of experience. Personal life average. One child (8 years old).
DAY 1:
Infiltrated the town today. Lot of people didn't seem to care for me all that much. I stopped by the bar, oh maybe around 2:00. Bartender's name was Charlie Gibbons, if I remember correctly. Anyway, I think I was assigned my "character". He asked me what my name was, my profession. I responded right away, "David Hoffman. I'm a private dick." The anomalous effect at work. The bartender seemed startled at my revelation. Hmm. I have got to learn more about my character before I can get close to Kohl. Hopefully Baedeker and Whitney back me up soon. I might already be in over my head.
DAY 2:
Two big things happened today of, uh, note. Thankfully Baedeker and Whitney arrived, but boy did they sure get more of a welcome than I did. Baedeker's character is "John Sojeck", some police detective from the big city investigating a case I have yet to learn about. Whitney's character is "Mary Davies", some pretty broa- oh, whoops. Don't tell her I, uh, said that. She's a pretty lady, supposed to be an actress from Hollywood. The other thing is for certain, for certain, the townspeople are avoiding contact with me. This one lady walked across the street, get that, just to avoid walking next to me. There is something with my character I must understand.
DAY 3:
Baedeker's character Sojeck is investigating the murder of one Anthony Hoffman. My brother. That's why I'm - or rather my character, I should say - is here. Seems like Hoffman was a pretty good cop. I miss him. He was investigating a recent spat of robberies nearby the Kohl estate. It's not a surprise she's the prime suspect. After all, if you're writing the book, why not write yourself in it? Regarding the case, I'm working with Baedeker both in character and out of character to solve this crime. We can't let Kohl know we're on to her if we want to arrest her. Whitney's got some guy as a quasi-boyfriend for now. He's supposed to be some mobster, or something.
DAY 4:
Something about this whole business is off. Sojeck (well, Baedeker, technically) is drawing himself away from solving what happened to Tony. Instead, he's off snooping around the Kohl estate, trying to get some information on her instead. I told Sojeck that we should concentrate on Anthony and that will lead us to Kohl (with information that can bag her, by the way) but he told me I was getting too invested into my character. My character? Really? I think Sojeck has a personal stake with Kohl. I told him to watch it. Thinking about it, I haven't seen Davies in a while. Probably off with her boyfriend.
DAY 5:
It's only been five days, and fucking Baedeker's outta the picture. They found his body in the reservoir today. They're sendin him to a nearby hosptial. The local authorities are letting me take over the case, since I'm related to Tony. I'm going deep into this. I don't care if I have to become my character for this case. I can prove myself for this. Baedeker deserved more. Whitney came back. She's got a whole basically portfolio of who Tony was related to, the murder scene, the body, everything. He was connected indirectly through this bank, the First Natl. Bank, which is owned by you guess who: the Kohl estate. Took a look at the pics of Tony. He really could be my older brother. She told me she had to go through a lot for that information. I believe her. She reeks of you-know-what. She probably loved it, too.
DAY 6:
Snooped around the bank for a while. Tony was investigating a robbery/murder there. A good quarter of a million dollars was stolen. Four men with guns, no alarms set, all quiet. Manager dead. Didn't know the robbery even happened nor the guy dyin 'till the next morn. Tony was set on the case being an inside job. I don't blame him but it ain't feelin right. Silvia's hosting a party tomorrow. Sent one of her thugs, Morricone, to tell me that I'm invited. Could be a trap. Davies is invited too. She's helping in full swing. Great actress in more ways than one.
DAY 7 (1):
Davies woke me up this morning. The more the days go by the less she dresses. I ain't complainin, though. Party's later. I should stop by Tony's grave later, drop some poppies. Imagine this big, tough guy, thinking poppies was his favorite flower. Tony was like that, though. He was a good man. I ain't letting this broad stop me from gettin back at her. She's gonna get the full of it whether she likes it or not. Kohl is my target. I'm after hot blood and Kohl is my target.
DAY 7 (2):
The party was a big town celebration for somethin. Smelled like tuna all the way through the front door. And whoop-de-doo, you know what it was? You know what it was? The money. Turns n' out, they recovered the money back. I did a little snoopin around of my own. That manager? Hot-shot police informant. Someone told Silvia. They gotta little rat on their payroll. I'm tired of doing nothin saying I'm doin somethin. I'm doing a little recon work tomorrow. If I don't make it back, this is to everyone. Sorry for not doin nothing before to ya shitheads. You got my brother down, you got Sojeck, but you ain't gettin me, you son of a bitch.
DAY 8
A night with Davies calmed my senses a bit. No point in rushing what's gonna come get, anyway. She told me she'd rather take me while alive than take me while dead. What a lady. She's a pretty one, as they say. But I have to do my things and she ain't staying forever. Nobody does. Nobody will. One more cigarette, for old time's sake. I kick the habit - and the bucket tomorrow. Tomorrow. There's the fucking rub. Such a faraway word for something so goddamn near near. This sounds pointless, but Davies. I-. Nothing. It's nothing.
DAY 9
I considered not making this. After all, I came to this town to avenge my brother. And that I have done. What is left for me to do now? I should tell someone, anyone. I snuck into her estate. Illegal yes, but that's the least of concerns. This town rots. Silvia Kohl knew her time was up. She looked and laughed. Laughed as I pointed the revolver at her heart. Laughed as I made it personal to her. Laughed as I pulled the trigger. I guess I missed, cause when she fell, the broad started crying. Crying hard. She told me "I was you, once. Exactly like you." Quaint last words for a devil. I left the estate, by the front door. Police were waiting. Sirens, whining a constant droll that echoed like tubular bells. Davies was there. She was crying. Crying as well. All women cry, eventually. I got released me after a few hours. Kohl wasn't making their jobs any easier, apparently. I looked around for Davies. She was gone. I thought so, t'least. She was waiting at my place, just waiting there.
I don't know what to do anymore. I don't have lots to do. This town rots. Everywhere in this stinking town rots. Someone's gotta clean it up. And it might just be me. Me. Me and Davies. Davies. I- I. I think, uh. I think, I think you're the one, Davies. I'm sorry. I have the guts to kill a lady but I can't tell another I care for her. Funny, that. Real funny.
These files were recovered after a separate reconnaissance team was sent in to determine the status of Pryor, Whitney, and Baedeker. Whitney and Baedeker were not able to be located under their character names, but Agent Pryor was positively identified under the David Hoffmann moniker. The audio logs were encapsulated in a cardboard box under an apartment registered to Hoffmann.