Meeting of The American Theosophical Society

The older gentleman had been on the force for nearly 35 years and was eager to offer the rising star, Tony Russo, an opportunity to show his prowess and take some work off of him.

He was now looking at the downed, pale officer on the floor like he had just made a tremendous mistake.

The captain looked at the young officer with growing resolve, in his mind he was weighing his options, which would be more merciful. To whip him into shape himself, or to leave that to his father, the decorated. Ret. Captain Fred Russo.

The captain was walking the paths of police discipline in his mind, and in a moment would have left the room without a word, and taken the oxygen out of Tony's life with him.

Then Isabelle began her theatrics.

"Is this how the Buffalo Police Department engages itself with citizens? Officer, my God, they destroyed my room. Here I am, possibly a widow, calling for the police to assist me in finding my husband, and instead you violate my Fourth Amendment rights."

Tony was slowly wobbling his way back up, leaning on Marjorie's hand as he does. Marjorie tries to help but the weight of the officer pushes the lithe girl down to a stoop. Marjorie turns to Isabella, forced to look up at her and the officer like they were the adults in the room.

"Save me the crocodile tears. I know what this is. What are you doing with an Atlantean sea-silk robe? This must have cost you a fortune to bring across the ethereal plane. Why do you know about it? And what do you know? How do you know it? Why is it in your work closet?"

"That thing? Oh, I picked it up in a thrift shop. I thought it looked appropriate."

"There's no thrift shop that holds a Psolion Fabric Robe. The Theosophical Society would have never allowed an Atlantean robe like this to fall into a thrift shop."

Isabella locked her jaw into a spring trap grin.

The Captain didn't notice, instead watching Marjorie stand herself up and collect her pride. But Tony noticed. He tried to look away from his spinning head to focus on the one thing he was good at.

Noticing people.

"Oh, yes. Theosophical Society. Are you a member?"

Isabelle spoke the name in the same manner she would list any number of the elite social orgs that she would be a part of. Tony recognized the tone and made a mental note of the circles Isabelle travelled.

Marjorie, meanwhile, flinched as if trying to salvage self esteem from a pile of needles. Her hand struggled to find her coffee from the table.

"My - my father was," she says slowly, building ego momentum, "and his father was, and before them, and my mother. We helped found the Theosophical Society."

The ego momentum hit a wall.

Isabelle's smile was locked in place.

"That wasn't my question, Miss Alston-Vanderbrunt. I asked if you were a member."

"I—I left."

The ceramic rattled in the saucer.

"You left?"

"They no longer — it no longer made sense for me to be a part of the society."

"Yes, because you couldn't pay for the dues."

Isabelle turned to The Captain, and spoke in a low 'helpful citizen' voice.

"I happen to know Councilman Vajrayana, we meet at times for chakra realignment, but he also serves as treasurer for the American Theosophical Circle. The man was so stressed about a trouble-making parasitic heiress causing a commotion."

Tony wanted to slap her hand, stomp at Marjorie's foot, cough, do something. But he couldn't. The eyes of his police captain gazed at him, and only at him. He could not involve himself any further, and watched helplessly as a defensive Marjorie sauntered into the trap.

"It wasn't fair."

"Ah, so it was you."

"We were a legacy!"

"No, your father was a legacy, and because of that, they put up with his egregious debt on returned materials, and missing dues. But he's no longer with us, is he?"

"You are not a legacy. You are an entitled parasite. So you break what other people have believing it should be yours."

Marjorie opened her mouth in shock. No tears, but face turned taut. She prepared to say something, Isabelle denied it, turning away from her and towards the captain.

"Speaking of unexplained disappearances, Officer. It's not my place of course, but I suspect the case is still open on Edgar Alston-Vanderbrunt IV. Has this woman's case been resolved regarding her missing father?"

Tony watched the rattling coffee cup like a shovel.

"There is nothing the police could do to help. He fell between the cracks."

"Yes, I wouldn't lead with that, Marjorie dear. Wouldn't want the pot calling the kettle black, after all. Forgive me officer, I'm not familiar with my police terminology, but is that…projection?"

Marjorie turns to Tony in last resort.

"Tony, you'll believe me, right? After what you've seen?"

Tony stared out at the pleading face. Her face taut and eyes red. He wanted to say something, but there was nothing he could remember. Something prowled the back of his mind that his frontal lobe was holding the door against. He wanted to make something up but the gaze of his superior and 'second dad' squelched that thought.

He stammered and stared.

Marjorie turns back to hide tears, the ceramic cup crashed to the floor leaving cold coffee and shattered cardboard.

"Curse the unprepared mind!"

Isabel turned to Tony.

"Now, Officer Russo, I'm a woman of means, and while I am one to hold a grudge, I'm willing to overlook this youthful dalliance with your girlfriend in my room for the sake of The City of Buffalo. We can all pretend that nothing happened. I will not press charges, and I will issue no complaints. I will even be a good sport as you go through your murder case, but you must send her away."

Marjorie was a flickering shadow caressing herself. Only the back of her head was visible as she looked at the corner of the room, perhaps thinking to throw herself into the cracks.

Captain Lincoln walked over to Russo and put a hand on his shoulder.

"You ready Russo?"

Officer Tony Russo knew what he should do, what any reasonable person would do. He knew what was expected of him. The safe way out.

But then again, he was always a bit of a mischief-maker.