,,Logs of Stralsund's investigation team

1785-03-24

This morning, a man's body was found in the sea. After a further investigation, the body was identified as Marcel Galliard. Suspected crime: homicide.

Description on clothes: guard's uniform. The armour tore off the body, the buttons of the jacket were missing. The shirt was shredded apart, had blood on it.

Results on autopsy: the supravital reaction experiments showed that he could have died between 12 and 2 in the morning. There were bruises on the throat and a suspected fracture of a hyoid bone. There was a white foam coming from his nose and mouth. The lungs were full of water and ooze. Crescent-shaped skin abrasions were made with the nails and oval subcutaneous haemorrhages were possibly made with the fingertips. The abdomen was torn apart, the large intestine had scratching marks. Some little parts of skin and blood were stuck in his fingernails.

Conclusion: the person was possibly choked, the blood in the fingernails inquiring a possibility of using self defence before death. The main cause of death could have been either drowning or a circulatory shock from the pain and injuries."

"So… aren't you and your pals going to resume your dirty investigation? Or did you come here to upset us and whoever else here who could be upset about Galliard?" Reiner asked and handed the mug full of beer to Lou. That shabby looking guy was very content, given the despondent ambience this city was drowning in.

"That stupid inspection will wait. The old fart was giving us a headache with all this work but he didn't show up today. Not showing up means a perfect day-off for me, unlike you. Ha." Lou smiled while leaning against the bar stool. He soon became irritated, though, because the blond man didn't seem to feel the same way about his boss' absence. He brought the mug to his lips and chugged the beverage while releasing a loud groan. "I remember you as a more entertaining dude. Now you're becoming as gloomy as that vicious blondie you had in there."

Reiner was losing the beam that he warmed the tavern up with. It was the second day since Marcel, his former employee and a good friend, had been found dead. Yes, he did lose a few clients to the Midnight killer, they were just clients who brought in the coins in exchange of an addictive booze. But it doesn't compare to losing a friend of a decade.

"Whatever. Where's that girl, Charming siren, or what do you call her? I'm bored." the shabby man spoke up again, still looking dissatisfied at the bartender, who still refused to share any excitement.

"Pieck? She's grieving over her brother-in-law, she has no time or reason to entertain drunkards. Besides, don't you think that hitting on an engaged woman is immoral?"

"I didn't say I was going to hit on her. I just want to hear her strumming her guitar. Stupid Wald wouldn't give me a chance to even catch a glimpse when she was there."

"Even with this, it ain't happening."

"Tch."

The only thing that calmed Reiner down was the fact that he was able to track down that weird traveller and ask him to bring Annie something appropriate to eat. In fact, he requested it twice, and it appeared that both times, this small mission was achieved. Reiner also recalled a brief conversation he had with Armin - she was certainly tortured.

Second day in the cell, the woman had to deal with getting her hand burnt with hot ashes.

The third day in the cell, she had to go through waterboarding. But, to Armin's news, it wasn't performed by Wald this early morning. That itself was odd.

Oh, if Mr. Leonhart what his daughter was going through…

The doors shot open and Reiner's eyes instinctively moved to see who entered the tavern. He squinted at the sight of the newcomers. Them?Again?

"Perfect timing, boys." Lou grinned as he also noticed the familiar faces. Those were the rest of Wald's gang members. But Wald himself was nowhere in sight. Three men approached the bar and settled their eyes on their ally, lacking that expected excitement about a booze. "Peter? Lucas? Who caught your tongue?"

While he was rambling, so-called Lucas snatched Lou's shoulders and pulled him to the bar table, folding his arms behind his back and tied him with a rope (in response, Reiner simply placed the cup to the side to avoid another mess he wasn't too eager to clean). As Lou cursed and struggled to break free, the third accomplice approached, holding a piece of paper - a written warrant.

"Richter was found dead from a stab wound. And, to no surprise, we found a bloody knife in your office that perfectly matched the description of the gash."

"What the fuck? I didn't kill him! Are you serious? I was at a brothel last night, and I don't have time to be killing people around here, damnit!" Lou barked and struggled, but his companions didn't seem to be affected by his defence.

"Yeah. Keep your vindication for the court, we've already heard you shitting on Wald for years and how you wished he were dead."

Without much elegance, Lou was escorted out of the taproom and the tavern was left in a temporary peace.

"What a sight. Ann looked cooler when she was taken out. This guy reminded me of a pig getting dragged out to get slaughtered." Reiner said and watched the doors close. He wasn't upset that the beer wasn't even finished - Lou was one of those annoying customers who was already in debt for the drinks from other nights. Mr. Leonhart insisted to keep serving him so he could send a debt sheet with the extra interest for being late but now, it seemed that those debts may not be returned anytime soon.

Bertholdt, who was always by Reiner's side, followed his friend's gaze and clutched the rag hard in his hand. Even with the coolness of springtime in his bones, the tall guy appeared to have sweaty forehead regardless of the temperature. Hot or cold, he always appeared to be on the point of a panic attack.

"Reiner, do you think he's actually the one behind all of this?"

Reiner looked at Bertholdt and their eyes met. And he was the one to break the staredown with a shake of his head.

"No. I think that guy just jinxed his boss' death. And his reaction was sincere. Call me a psychopath but I don't mind that he left - that stench of shit coming from his mouth would've been the death of me."