missingsince77

You root around through the junk. Jesus. So much shit.\n\ndid you sell this guy a bike?

<<if $cou is 1>>"Thank you," she says. "Definitely by Easter, though, so don't wait to pick a side."\n"I appreciate the tip."<<else if $cou is 2>>"True," she says. "Although some more men in the trenches would be welcome."\nYou nod, not sure what to say.<<endif>>\nShe sips her coffee. A clock ticks. The living room becomes a little too quiet.\n\nYou open your notebook and [[click your pen.|janet]]

Phil's typewriter sits on top. The [[page]] Janet mentioned is still there.

In Missing Since '77, I want readers to empathize with two people who want something from one another. I want them to be responsible for the trust that these characters build and whether or not it is abused. I feel that, if burdened by a responsibility to look after both characters, they'll be more likely to consider their decisions meaningful, and less likely to flippantly click links just to see what happens (at least the first time through).\n\n$trust will be a score-like variable that the player will never see. Player actions can add to or subtract points from $trust. Certain levels of $trust will unlock certain actions. Some decisions will drastically affect the $trust score.\n\nIt might be more effective to allow this story to play out over several in-game days. I'm not sure yet.\n\n$attraction should start adding up very early on.\n$danger should start adding up very early on.

What a way to pay for college. Mom thinks you work in the cafeteria. If she knew you were still in the gumshoe business, she'd have a fit.\n\nYou crush your cigarette with your sneaker. Before you've taken three steps forward, the front [[door opens.|knock]]

A newspaper clipping. You look closer. It's a [[review|review1]] of Phil's book.

"Yeah, but he snores like a chainsaw. I always knew when he was asleep."\n\n[["Got it."|questions2]]

Thanks for playing a chunk of //Missing Since '77.// I hope to release the full game soon. Your impressions are welcome--my contact details are on [[IFDB|http://ifdb.tads.org/showuser?id=g93c9fxvwjtnjhjp]]. Enjoy the rest of Spring Thing. Thanks again!\n\n--Andrew\n\n[[Menu|Start]]

<<if $soo is 1>>"Not really," she says. "It couldn't have done that."<<else if $soo is 2>>"That occurred to me," she says. "Believe it or not."<<else if $soo is 3>>She laughs humorlessly.<<endif>>\nYou run your thumb through the soot. "No chimney?"\nShe shakes her head. "I can't think of a theory that's not absurd."\n\n[["I don't blame you."|blame]]\n[["Tell me about your theories."|theories]]\n[["Leave the absurd speculation to me."|crazy]]

That much seems clear, but it begs a question: did Phil leave or was he taken? Consider the couple's financial woes--he might have borrowed from the wrong people. Maybe his publisher is in league with the Jersey mob. On the other hand, Janet could be afraid of Phil himself. He's not a model husband, that's for sure. In any case: it's possible that Janet has presented you with this bizarre scenario because the truth would put her [[in danger.|case]]

It was every night. He would come to bed after you were asleep and leave before you woke. He was losing weight, and his skin needed sun. He said the book was almost done, and you gave him the benefit of the doubt. You made his favorite meals, did his chores, showed more interest in sex--not that he noticed--but might as well have tried to [[raise the dead.|work]]

<<if $bye is 1>>"You're welcome," Tommy says.<<else if $bye is 2>>"Well," Bob says, "people in Hell want margaritas."<<else if $bye is 3>>"Sorry, Anthony," Bob says. "We're running a business here."<<endif>>

"Frustrated?" She doesn't seem to trust her memory. "He didn't have a project to obsess over, and he was kind of dreading the new semester. He had just started exercising, though, which helped."\n\n[["Got it."|questions1]]

Janet leads you through the dining room. Inherited china crowds its cabinets. [[Wedding photos|photos]] are propped on the sideboard.\n\nThere is a [[box of books|box]] on the table.

You scratch your chin. You've got questions.\n\n[["Did you find the bike?"|bike]]\n[["How did you get the door open?"|crowbar]]\n[["Isn't the book done?"|done]]\n<<if visited("history", "exercise", "sunday")>>[[Let's move on."|enough]]<<else>>[["Let's move on."|move3]]<<endif>>

You tap your pencil. You've got questions.\n\n[["What do you think he was up to?"|idea]]\n[["Did he ever sleep down there?"|sleep]]\n[["Did he know you were listening?"|know]]\n<<if visited("history", "exercise", "sunday")>>[[Let's move on."|enough]]<<else>>[["Let's move on."|move2]]<<endif>>

You scribble in your notebook. You have questions.\n\n[["What was Phil like before the book?"|before]]\n[["Do Phil's colleagues respect him?"|respect]]\n[["Who's Ralph Bakshi?"|bakshi]]\n<<if visited("history", "exercise", "sunday")>>[[Let's move on."|enough]]<<else>>[["Let's move on."|move1]]<<endif>>

Nonetheless, you were reading the first twenty pages a week later.\n"Why is the land called Arth?" you said.\n"Aha," he said. "It's Earth without the E."\n"Our world," you said, adding gravely, "but //different//."\n"Exactly." He seemed to not hear the sarcasm.\nYou handed back the pages. "I thought you said this was for children."\nHe raised a finger. [["For everyone."|audience]]

<<if visited("appendices")>>"I think we've made that as clear as we need to," Bob says.\n\n[["Fair enough."|pubquiz]]<<else>>"He's a decent man," Tommy says, "but became frustrating to work with."\n"He's difficult," Bob says, "and acted like an ass in the month before his release."\nTommy folds his hands. "We're disappointed in him. He didn't quite deliver the book that he promised us."\n"Not even close."\n"We wish him well, but wouldn't work with him again."\n\n[["That's very helpful."|pubquiz]]<<endif>>

Earn her trust, then pick her brain. You've known Janet for an hour. You'll see whatever cards she has close to the chest [[soon enough.|case]]

You arrive early. Dr. Holt is behind schedule. You take a seat and regard the pamphlets. You wish you could tell her everything. She'd have to report Phil's disappearance to the police, right? It's been too long. Getting Anthony involved seems more and more like a mistake. Wow, it's a quarter after four. You need a distraction.\n\n[[Browse the pamphlets|scan]]

Here's your chance. The truth is improbable, and impossible to prove, but there's no doubt in your mind. Can Anthony handle it? You say the words in your head:\n\n//Phil's bike is an interdimensional teleportation device.//\n\nOh, God. That sounds [[so stupid.|stupid]]

She shakes her haid. "I'm at a loss."\n\n[["Interesting."|questions3]]

Missing Since '77

Phil, however, was too busy writing to worry about expectations other than his own, and that made you sort of proud. He was happier than he'd been in ages, and he maintained a giddy, infectious energy that excited you in spite of the bizarre nature of [[the project.|project]]

<<if visited("case") is 1>>You decamp to the living room.\n"We've got some blanks to fill in," you say.\n<<endif>>What do you want to know more about?\n\n[[Phil's publisher|publisher]]\n[[The exercise bike|bikehistory]]\n[[Janet and Phil's relationship|relationship]]\n[[Book sales|sales]]\n<<if visited("sales", "relationship", "bikehistory", "publisher")>>[[I've heard enough|wrap]]<<endif>>

You go up to--//what is her name?//--and say that you don't feel well. Bloria says that she understands, clearly unconvinced. You pay the missed appointment fee--highway robbery--and [[flee to the street.|flee]]

Anthony's paging through your //Ms.// The way he slouches on the sofa, you see the teenager in him, the kid he's pretending not to be, and you want to catch him in the lie. Burst his bubble.\n"You reading Gloria or looking at Jane?"\n<<if $fem is 1>>He stutters the former, but admits he's not much of a feminist. You joke about women rising up, <<if $cou is 1>>and he doesn't know what to say.<<else if $cou is 2>>and he plays along.<<endif>><<else if $fem is 2>>He assures you that he's in it for the writing, so you counter with a crack about Playboy<<if $pla is 1>>. He endorses their fiction, blushing all the while.<<else if $pla is 2>>, which he denies reading, as if he didn't have //urges.//<<endif>><<else if $fem is 3>>He argues for Fonda's acting chops, so you counter with a crack about //Barbarella//, <<if $bar is 1>>and his coy response amuses you.<<else if $bar is 2>>and he changes the subject to //Klute//, which you lie about having seen to make him less uncomfortable.<<endif>><<endif>>\nYou drink your coffee. It's nice to have a prop. Anthony takes out a notepad and pen.\n"How does this work?" you say.\nHe wants to know when you realized that something was wrong. You explain that there are several candidates for that moment.\n\n[[Sunday|sunday][$mom=3]], when Phil disappeared.\n[[Two months ago|exercise][$mom=2]], when you started eavesdropping.\n[[Last year|history][$mom=1]], when Phil started writing the book.

"You can thank Phil for that," Bob says.\n"The electric company cut us off," Tommy says.\n"Because //History of Arth// flopped."\n"It's temporary."\n"We've got a new title coming out next month."\nTommy sighs. "//Xenia and the Seven Sorcerers of D'Flam.//"\n"Very exciting get," Bob says. He points to a mock-up of the cover, which depicts the busty, well-oiled heroine brandishing a sword atop a lavafall. "A return to form for us."\nTommy grimaces. "Indeed."\n"Oh, cheer up."\n\n[["I hope it's a winner."|pubquiz]]

Brian hums at his desk. He probably doesn't know that he's doing it. Sounds like "Classical Wind." Good song. What was the name of that group?\n\n[[Apostle something|apollo][$quiz=0]]\n[[Apollo something|apollo][$quiz=1]]\n[[Apache something|apollo][$quiz=0]]

"He didn't let on. Then again, he stopped trusting me with regard to his work months ago, so his paranoia might have simply been too extreme already for me to notice a change."\n\n[["Got it."|questions2]]

Tommy scowls and shakes his head.\n"Tommy put up with a lot from Phil," Bob says, "but the appendices tipped him over the edge."\n"The book was //on store shelves//," Tommy says, "and he came in here, babbling about an appendix and a new edition."\n"Completely oblivious."\n"I wanted to shake him. For months I'd insisted that the book wasn't done, and every time, he said he was dry, or that he'd told the story he wanted to tell."\n"I've never seen Tommy so mad."\n"I told him: you fooled me into publishing your unfinished book. //Now// you want to do it right?"\nBob smiles sadly. "You've opened up a wound, kid."\n"I'm sorry," you say. [["I didn't know."|pubquiz]]

The lock is destroyed, and the surrounding wood is splintered. The door stand ajar, unable to close. Janet smiles apologetically and leads you down [[the wooden steps.|stairs]]

"Of course you have theories."\n"Excuse me?"\n"Phil's been gone for three days. You've spoken to no one but me." She shrinks a little. "You have theories."\n"A theory can be proven to near-certainty. I don't have that."\n"Fine. You have ideas."\nFor a moment she's quiet, flustered.\n"I have ideas, sure, but they make zero sense."\n\n[[Press her|harder]]\n[[Relent|leggo]]

<<if $sus is 1>>"Bullshit. You wouldn't be much of a detective if it hadn't."\n"You're right," you say. "I lied."<<else if $sus is 2>>"I thought so," she says, a little sadly.\n"I have to consider every possibility," you say.<<else if $sus is 3>>"Don't play dumb," she says. "Unless you work a miracle, I'll be a murder suspect by the end of the week."\n"Maybe," you say.<<endif>>\n"Anyway, <<if visited("publisher")>>Necrotome<<else>>the publisher<<endif>> blames bad timing. I don't know how much of a geek you are, but //The Silmarillion// just came out, and it kind of has the fantasy-history market cornered. Phil didn't think he'd have to compete with Tolkien, what with J.R.R. being dead."\n\n[["How did he take it?"|mood]]\n[["No kidding."|case]]

"What's that?"\n"About the exercise bike."\n"Yeah?"\nThis is going to come out all wrong.\n"I think it has some unusual features. If you visit the pawn shop, maybe ask the owner about them."\nOne of his eyebrows goes up, up, up.\n"Like what?"\n"I'm really not sure, but it was just one more thing that Phil seemed to be keeping secret."\nHe nods, placated. "I'll look into it."\n"Thanks." Your face is bright red, you can [[feel it.|something]]

<<if $smoke is 0>>You rap your knuckles on the wood and wait. After a while, the deadbolt clicks and the door opens. A tall woman in a turtleneck blinks at you.<<else if $smoke is 1>>You grind the cigarette under your sneaker and walk to the door. It swings open before you can knock. A tall woman in a turtleneck examines you.<<else if $smoke is 2>>A tall woman in a turtleneck steps out.\n"Hello," she says. "Are you waiting for me?"<<endif>>\n"Mrs. Kappelman? Anthony Santangelo."\nHer handshake is limp, distracted.\n"You're not quite what I expected," she says.\n\n[["What did you expect?"|mirror][$exp=1]]\n[["Should I have worn a trenchcoat and fedora?"|mirror][$exp=2]]\n[["I get that a lot."|mirror][$exp=3]]

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The clippings are from [[reviews|review2][$rev+=1]] of //Kappelman's History of Arth.//

You pressed your ear against the basement door and heard nothing.\n\n[[You waited|noresponse][$mov=1]]\n[[You knocked|noresponse][$mov=2]]\n[[You spoke|noresponse][$mov=3]]

Food and toiletries, scrawled in a barely legible hand. There is another [[piece of paper|paper]] underneath the list.

You sighed. "There's a decapitation on page five."\n"It's anecdotal."\n"Tell that to a children's publisher."\n"Fine. Maybe not //everyone.//"\n"Honey," you said, "you need to know who this book is for."\n"That's obvious," he said, smiling. [["It's for me."|me]]

There's no way. You can't say it. He'll think you're crazy. Anthony blinks. He's waiting.\n\n[["No, nothing to add."|nothing]]\n[["There is one thing."|one]]

<<if $smoke is 0>>You're halfway upstairs when you hear the knock. Of course he's early. He probably saw you in the window.<<else if $smoke is 1>>The knock makes you jump. He's right on time. Too late to back out. He'd probably see you sneaking away.<<else if $smoke is 2>>You watch the clock reach 8:02, and you wonder, you hope, that he's blown you off. A glance outside proves otherwise. He's smoking a cigarette, waiting.<<endif>>\n\n[[Open the door|opendoor]]

"A Schwinn exerciser. Phil got it from a pawn shop. It came with sort of a custom odometer that the clerk said would sweeten the deal, but it was useless. Pure grift."\n\n[["Tell me about the pawn shop."|pawn]]\n[["Tell me about the odometer."|odometer]]\n[["Got it."|case]]\n

Not that you don't want to find him. You do. Are you going to leave him? Probably. Under these circumstances? No. Sherlock, Jr. wipes his shoes on the mat. He's got a mop of hair and a dimpled smile. His clothes don't fit so well. You offer him a seat and [[cup of coffee.|kitchen]]

//Mr. Nail's roots are here in the country and, like his father, he is a woodsman by trade. For his happiness and success, he credits his master, and I ask him to clarify. What need has a woodsman for a master? He explains that his master is a man of influence, whom many in the region serve. I press him, but Nail remains cryptic, and I promise that I won't abuse his trust. Nail explains that while his master has earned much local goodwill, he's not an elected official, and the government considers him a troublemaker.\n\nThe United Islands senate, Nail says, pretends that nothing is wrong beyond its isolated shores. His master, however, is brave enough to face the violence and black magic eating away at Arth's fringes, and has organized communities to resist the encroaching threats.\n\nNail confesses, somewhat sheepishly, to having told his master about my book. Apparently, the man would like to meet me. Arth's history books, Nail explains, border on propaganda, telling only the court-approved version of events, and his master would like me to set the record straight. I'm humbled and honored to have this opportunity. I ask Nail when we can begin.\n\nHe says he'll take me to his master tonight.//\n\n[[Interesting.|studio]]

It's large and vaguely bullet-shaped. "The bike was there," Janet says. You look closer at the sooty mark. There's a permanent depression in the concrete.\n\n[["Heavy bike."|soot][$soo=1]]\n[["Spontaneous combustion?"|soot][$soo=2]]\n[["Did you mean to say 'tank?'"|soot][$soo=3]]

The following is excerpted from a work in progress.\n\n[[Continue|street]]

You've always had a knack. The other kids knew better than to play hide and seek with you. You earned your first 20 dollars by recovering a lost pet. When you were 14, Uncle Hector ran out on Aunt Leonora, and you tracked him to New Jersey. They credit you with saving their marriage to this day. Soon, you were [[in demand.|today]]

"What? You're an engineering student."\n"Yeah, chemical engineering."\n"I always forget that."\n"Indeed you do."\nYou sit down and try to focus on //Middlemarch//, but your mind has wandered elsewhere. Brian might actually be able to help you after all. This paper, though.\n\n[[Study|study]]\n[[Ask Brian about spontaneous combustion|combustion]]

"Here there will be a most excellent excerpt from either Kappelman's History of Arth or another publication of the time. I dunno. Maybe something from Anthony Santangelo. Maybe something by Janet Kappelman. In any case, there will be words here, but not these ones."\n\n-- Andrew Watt, //Kappelman's History of Arth//\n\n[[Continue|street]]

"I pictured him sitting on the bike, holding his breath for hours on end. Which is absurd, obviously. I really have no idea."\n\n[["Got it."|questions2]]

Brian slowly turns around to look at you. He puts on a pretend-pleasant smile that says, //are you going to get that?// You bulge your eyes at him. //No.// He stands heavily and makes a show of strolling over to the phone.\n"Santangelo Investigative Offices, Brian speaking." He covers the receiver. "It's Mark." Your nosy RA.\n\n[["Give me the phone."|answer]]\n"Tell him I'm not here."

The house is tall and narrow, like two bookends pushed together. Its windows are dark. Your watch says it's not yet eight. Hopefully, she's awake.\n\n[[Smoke a cigarette|smoke][$smoke+=1]]\n[[Knock on the door|knock][$smoke=0]]

<<if $exp is 1>>"I don't know, actually." Her brow furrows. "Never met a detective before."\n"We come in all stripes."\n"Now I know."<<else if $exp is 2>>She smiles slightly. "That's my only frame of reference, really."\n"True for most people."\n"That's a relief, I guess."<<else if $exp is 3>>"I can imagine. Are you even old enough to drink?"\n"Barely."\n"Not like that's relevant."<<endif>> She steps aside. "Come in."\nYou follow her into the foyer. Your reflection in the hall tree mirror fills you with disappointment. The blazer seemed hip when you tried it on at home, but you look like a dolt. It //screams// [[boy detective.|boydetective]]

What they didn't know, and still don't, is that you've been a confidential informant for the NYPD since you were 16. One night, you were sitting on your stoop, watching a shooting victim cool off in the street where you played soccer, and a detective sat down next to you. He asked if you had anything to contribute. [[You did.|contribution]]

"Name a literary critic," Bob says.\n<<if not visited("appendices")>>"You're too harsh," Tommy says.\n"I am but an agent of truth."\nTommy shakes his head and looks at you.<<else>>Tommy frowns.<<endif>> "I don't know of anyone who would want to hurt Phil, if that's what you're asking."\n"He's a twit," Bob says, "but not worth murdering."\n\n[["I appreciate your candor."|pubquiz]]

"Just like that?"\n"Don't push your luck, Mark."\n"You'll get a regular student job?"\n"First thing tomorrow. My business has dried up anyway."\n"That's good, that's good. I mean, I'm sorry about your business, sort of. But the other part is good."\n"Quit while you're ahead, Mark."\n"Fair enough. Thanks, Anthony."\n"You're welcome, Mark."\nYou hang up. Brian smiles, baffled. "He believed you?"\n"Apparently."\n"You weren't even trying."\nYou put your hands on your hips and look around the room. "How hard do you think it would be to install a private line in here?"\n[[Brian sighs.|sigh]]

"In stride, at first, but he started going downstairs again, writing more. The book was out, things were supposed to relax around here. Instead, he started talking about appendices and second editions."\n\n[["That doesn't sound good."|case]]

After an hour of listening to him peck at the keys, you heard him roll back his chair and cross the room. The bike's pedals spun for five minutes. Then, [[total silence.|silence]]

The clock ticks.\n"That," you say, "is a lot to take in."\n"The last year has been so strange," she says. "When this happened, I almost... wasn't surprised."\n\n[["What do you mean?"|meaning]]\n[["Why don't you show me the basement?"|dining]]

<<if $bar is 1>>"Very funny."<<else if $bar is 2>>She smirks. "Yes, I enjoyed Klute."<<endif>>\nYou were thirteen when you first saw Barbarella, and your boner lasted so long that it hurt. Mrs. Kappelman sips her coffee. A clock ticks. The living room becomes a little too quiet.\n\nYou open your notebook and [[click your pen.|janet]]

You advance past the silent press. In the darkness, you could mistake it for a torture device. In the office, one of the men stands and talks, gesticulating. The other sits and listens, his back to you. The third floor, you note, has windows, but they're all covered. A carpet of light spills from the office doorway. "We should try Dennis again," the standing man says, hopeful. The other shakes his head.\n\n[[Announce yourself|announce]]\n[[Eavesdrop|eavesdrop][$questions-=1]]

Phil was now locking the door when he went to the basement.\n"I'm not going to snoop," you said.\n"It helps me think," he said, "the isolation."\n"What if you keel over? Heart disease runs in your family."\n[["I'll be fine."|fine]]

"Oh, we like Janet," Bob says. "I wish //she// would write a book."\n"She came here only once," Tommy says, "and yes, she was nice."\n"Although," Bob says.\nTommy nods. "It dawned on us about halfway through her visit that Phil didn't know she had come."\n"That maybe he wouldn't have wanted her here."\n[["Why did she come?"|whyjanet]]

After a bit of flattery (you've researched their catalog) and a cup of tea, you've got them talking.\n"A foolish investment," Bob says. "That's how I'd describe Phil Kappelman." Bob has the goatee. The bearded gardener, Tommy, shrugs, indicating that he more or less agrees. <<if visited("eavesdrop")>>Bob hasn't quite warmed up to you after that fumbled entrance, but he's getting there.<<else if visited("announce")>>They're warming up to you, despite previously seeming disappointed that you found them in the first place.<<endif>>\n"How long has he been gone?" Tommy asks.\n\n[["Not long."|long][$long=1]]\n[["About 24 hours."|long][$long=2]]\n[["Four days."|long][$long=3][$questions-=1]]

You could pretend you're not home. Kill the lights, close the shades, back to bed, call it off. You haven't phoned the police, but you can guess what they'll say. Why would this P.I. react differently? He promised to keep an open mind, but open enough to [[buy your story?|janet2]]

Your surprise shows. The kid doesn't seem to mind. <<if $exp gt 1>>His comeback amuses you, in fact. <<endif>>You let him in. //Missing// husband. That's not quite the word. Missing implies that he's not where he belongs. You suspect, strange though it sounds, that Phil is very much [[where he belongs.|where]]

How could you? Phil's disappearance is totally inexplicable. Part of you (not the part that has student loans) wants to walk away right now, because you're stumped, and although you find this //Twilight Zone// shit intriguing, the more likely explanation is that Janet is [[lying to you.|case]]

An island of carpet marks his creative territory, which includes [[a desk|desk]] and a small [[bookshelf.|bookshelf]] Throwing darts pin half a dozen [[newspaper clippings|clippings]] to a corkboard on the wall.\n\n<<if visited("bookshelf", "clippings", "desk")>>Janet pulls a string and a light snaps on, revealing some [[exercise equipment.|gym]]<<endif>>

The book is your only hope, really. You've marked passages that might help him figure it out.\n\n[[Godspeed, kid.|thanks]]

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Some nights, you lay awake thinking about something he said months ago, when he was still bursting with energy:\n\n[["This book is going to change me."|questions1]]

You saw no blood, nor anything broken or missing. Phil's desk lamp was on, and an unfinished page protruded from the typewriter. A scene from one of his doomed appendices, [[presumably.|master]]

Look at that. //Kappelman's History of Arth.// A whole stack of 'em. You glance at Janet. "Go ahead," she says. You pick up the top copy. Its dust jacket [[slips loose.|jacket]]

"They're called Necrotome. Very niche, low-profile. They mostly do fantasy and horror stuff. It's run by just two guys."\n\n[["Got it."|case]]

You read forty pages and digest none of them. On one page, a seahorse appears to be concealed in a block of text. You wake up at an uncertain hour and don't remember having fallen asleep. You've drooled a bit. Not your best night, but [[not your worst.|thursday]]

Is this someone's idea of a joke? You squint at the receptionist, sorting files behind her desk. Her name is Betty or Gloria or something--you can't remember. She pays no attention. You feel trapped, as if you were tricked into coming here. Why is Dr. Holt taking so long?\n\n[[Sneak out|sneak]]\n[[Pretend to be sick|sick]]

If you have 15 minutes to kill, I recommend suffering through my previous game, The Martian Fields, before playing Missing Since '77. If not, the recaps below will bring you up to speed.

You lean against a lamp post and inhale. Terrible habit, but it keeps your nerves in check. The last few months have been slow for new jobs, and your tuition's not going to pay itself. When Janet Kappelman called and offered you $2,000 to investigate her husband's disappearance, you actually danced in your dorm room.\n\n[[Finish your cigarette|smoke2][$smoke+=1]]\n[[Put it out|knock]]

Andrew Watt

Occasionally, they call you. More rarely, you call them. It's like those lost pets, but with bigger tips, which, along with your freelance sleuthing, are paying for your journalism major. The last few months have been tight, though, and when this $2,000 job fell into your lap, you didn't [[think twice.|firstlook]]

More than an hour passed, and you heard [[nothing.|later]]

Every night adhered to this routine, and the routine always included an inexplicable silence, sometimes as long as two hours, bookended by frantic pedaling. When you brought it up, he changed the subject, saying he didn't want to talk about [[the book.|questions2]]

Obviously, you're not well-rested. Maybe that pamphlet about sleep would help. Ha. Really, though: if you can't even see straight, you don't dare walk in there and risk blabbing the wrong thing to Dr. Holt. You go the receptionist--Betty? Gloria? You can't remember--and tell her that you don't feel well. Bloria says that she understands, clearly unconvinced. You pay the missed appointment fee--highway robbery--and [[flee to the street.|flee]]

<strong>@@font-size:60px;letter-spacing:1px;font-family:"Trebuchet MS";MISSING SINCE '77@@</strong>\n@@font-family: "Trebuchet MS";By Andrew Watt@@\n\n[[Play|disclaimer]]

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Phil was a legitimate historian: published, well-reviewed, and tenured at Stony Brook. But a fantasist? In his twenties, he'd written his one and only novel, //The Kings of 39th//, a Hubert Selby rip-off about noble drug addicts. It was a clumsy, self-important book, and it never sold. He was a decent stylist--his textbook contributions had personality--but fiction was not his strength. The handful of short stories he'd finished in the last decade were locked in his desk, safe from, [[God forbid, readers.|readers]]

Her eyes cloud. "It is. Supposed to be, anyway, but he didn't stop writing. Kept on about revisions and appendices, as if anyone would be foolish enough to publish a second edition."\n\n[["Got it."|questions3]]

<<if $long is 1>>Their eyebrows go up. Too vague. "Janet can't quite determine when he left," you say.\nThey're clearly put off, but don't question your explanation.<<else if $long is 2>>They both nod, cautious but not too skeptical.<<else if $long is 3>>Tommy's bushy eyebrows crawl up in surprise."Four days?" Bob says. "And Janet hasn't called the cops?"\n"Phil's been keeping a low profile," you say. "It took her a while to realize he was gone."\n"Sounds pretty sketchy to me," Bob says. "I'm not sure we should be talking to you."\n"Relax," Tommy says. "We got nothing to hide."\n"Fine," Bob says. "But no bullshit, kid."<<endif>>\n"So," Tommy says. "What else do you want to know?"\nYou take out your [[notepad and pen.|pubquiz]]

You feared that he was stuck and too proud to ask for help. That would be so like him. When you made suggestions about the early pages, inner editor firing up, he shook his head vigorously, like a child refusing to be fed. Shortly after that, he stopped [[sharing his work.|listen]]

You close your notebook.\n"I think I've got enough to work with right now."\nJanet teeters on her seat. "I need to know," she say. "What do you think the odds of finding him are?"\n\n[["I'll find Phil."|odds][$odds=1]]\n[["Try to temper your expectations."|odds][$odds=2]]\n[["I prefer not to think in those terms."|odds][$odds=3]]

"Yes," she says, "in a professional sense. He's accomplished. Students stay awake during his classes."\n"And personally?"\n"He's well-liked." She hesitates. "Some people think he's naive, and kind of a geek."\nYou get the impression that she believes one or both of those things.\n\n[["Got it."|questions1]]

Fair enough. You've been in her house for an hour. Besides, apprehension is normal. Most of your jobs last only a few weeks, but a P.I. contract is, in a way, lifelong. Clients rely on you, like a safe-deposit box, to keep their secrets secure--forever. It's not an arrangement to be [[made lightly.|case]]

"Kappelman wears his influences not so much on his sleeve but as an entire ensemble. His //History// is an unstable combination of Tolkien, fairy tales, and space opera that never coheres."\n\n[[Read another|review4][$rev+=1]]\n[[Enough|studio]]

It carries you to the third floor. The criss-crossed gate unfolds, and you enter a wide, dark space. A printing press hulks in the shadows, and you see storage cages at the far wall. The only light comes from a distant office. It has windows on all sides, sort of like a booth. There are [[two men inside.|approach][$questions=5]]

"It was chunky plastic brick with a screen and some colored buttons. Sort of like a graphing calculator."\n\n[["Tell me about the pawn shop."|pawn]]\n[["Got it."|case]]

Good God, he's practically a child. He sounded young on the phone, but this kid can't be more than twenty years old. The absurdity of your situation has ballooned to the point at which you could attach a basket and sell rides. Encyclopedia Brown is here to find your [[missing husband.|missing]]

"Too disturbing for children and too childish for adults, //History of Arth// is a book without any conceivable audience beyond the sort of men who lurk in video arcades."\n\n[[Read another|review3][$rev+=1]]\n[[Enough|studio]]

"The digressions are his saving grace. Each time an inane plot twist threatens to derail the enterprise, Mr. Kappelman comes to the rescue with a political aside or topographical footnote. Such interruptions provide a welcome respite from his tedious yarn-spinning. Perhaps Mr. Kappelman should have written an encyclopedia. //History of Arth// is never more successful than when the narrative loosens its stranglehold."\n\n[[Ouch.|fidget]]

You looked around the room again. No blood. Nothing broken. Nothing missing. Wait. Yes. Something missing.\n\nWhere was that [[fucking exercise bike?|questions3]]

"//Kappelman's History of Arth// challenged me like no other book I can recall. It's too large to be a paperweight, too small to fuel a fire, and lacks the buoyancy required of a flotation device. Eventually, it occurred to me to hollow out the mid-section, which now houses a small flask. Owners of small caliber pistols may also find this book useful."\n\n[[Enough|studio]]

"Life is too short for //Kappelman's History of Arth.// Take your children to Coney Island. Ring up an old friend. Attempt to balance a pencil on your nose. The available alternatives to reading this book are limitless, but the space alloted for this review ends here."\n\n[[Read another|review6][$rev+=1]]\n[[Enough|studio]]

"Consider this sentence: 'although it seemed impossible, I must report these events exactly as I witnessed them: the wizard's skin tightened and his eyes shriveled, as though he had not only died but been dead for some time.' The conceit that Mr. Kappelman is an observer, recounting only what he sees, does not grant him a license to write awful prose."\n\n[[Read another|review5][$rev+=1]]\n[[Enough|studio]]

"What?"\n"Show me where in the handbook it says I can't do this."\n"Look it up yourself."\n"If you come down here and show me the exact page, I promise I will close up shop that very instant."\n"Oh, for fuck's sake."\n"Is there a problem?"\n"No, I just need to--look, I'll be down there as soon as I find it, okay?"\n"Sure, Mark."\n"I swear to God, Anthony." He hangs up.\nBrian whistles. "That sounded like it went well."\nYou put your hands on your hips and look around the room. "How hard do you think it would be to install a private line in here?"\n[[Brian sighs.|sigh]]

<<if $bev is "coffee">>He accepts. You go into the kitchen and fill two mugs.<<else if $bev is "water">>He asks for water. You go into the kitchen and fill a glass.<<else if $bev is "Coke">>He asks for a Coke, of all things. You go into the kitchen and dig through the refrigerator.<<endif>> The basement door draws your eye. It looks bad. //Hysterical wife batters husband's barricade, conceals cadaver. Film at eleven.// You add a little bit of <<cyclinglink $add "milk""sugar" "whiskey">> to your coffee and return to the [[living room.|taunt]]

Husbands wanted to know what their wives did all day. Wives wanted to know where their husbands went after work. Parents wanted to know what their kids were drinking, and kids wanted to know why their parents were fighting. You made a little money, nothing to brag about. People thought [[you were cute.|informant]]

You began to--occasionally--listen at the basement door. He had a routine down there, going back and forth between his desk and the stationary bike. The typewriter keys clacked for a few hours, and the bike whirred for about thirty minutes. One night, you noticed something strange about [[the pattern.|pattern]]

<<if $pla is 1>>"I'll take your word for it."<<else if $pla is 2>>"I shouldn't have assumed."<<endif>>\nShe sips her coffee. A clock ticks. The living room becomes a little too quiet.\n\nYou open your notebook and [[click your pen.|janet]]

"Because //somebody// wanted to branch out," Bob says.\n"There's no shame in that," Tommy says. "I told Bobby that if we put out one more piece of sub-Lovecraftian kink--"\n"You'd hang yourself with your own beard," Bob says. "Drama queen."\nTommy shrugs, copping to the insult.\nBob sighs. "Of course, I let him win. Like always."\n"Phil's pitch was unique," Tommy says, "and the draft he showed us had a lot of promise. The problem was one of vision."\n"And revision," Bob says. "Where Tommy saw promise, Phil saw a book that was almost done."\n"Getting changes out of him was like pulling teeth from a kid."\n"We threatened to drop him three times."\n"The book we printed was compromised," Tommy says, "and in hindsight, I consider it unfinished."\n\n[["That must be disappointing."|pubquiz]]

"We talked, at most, five minutes a day. Like we were roommates. We weren't eating together. He kept saying those things would change when the book was out. But they didn't."\n"Why not?"\n"It had to do, in part, with mediocre sales."\n\n[["Okay."|case]]

Just a weight bench, actually, gathering dust. You see no weights. A mirror leans against the wall. There's a large, black [[scorch mark|scorch]] on the floor.

The crumbling, brick warehouse is tucked in by a narrow, dead-end street. Supposedly, Necrotome Publishing is on the third floor. There's no obvious visitor entrance. You get in through an unlocked, unmarked door. Handmade signs--one just says "Go" in a fraught scrawl--lead you to a [[service elevator.|elevator]]

The newlyweds cavort from frame to frame, egged on by the bridal party. In one photo, Janet has Phil in a headlock. He grins, chunky glasses halfway down his nose. In your estimation? He's lucky to have her, and [[he knows it.|dining]]

You follow her into the kitchen. Its off-white tiles have a naturally dirty look. The coffee machine still fizzles. A banana-shaped magnet pins a [[grocery list|list]] to the refrigerator.\n\nJanet stops at the door to the [[basement.|basement]]

You step into the light and knock on the open door.\n"Hello, gentlemen."\nThe standing man jumps a little. He's smaller, with a neat goatee and a leather jacket. Both are probably in their fifties. The other one is burly, with a long, braided beard, like a Hell's Angel. His fierceness is offet by his overalls, which have more of a hippie gardener vibe.\nGoatee glances at his colleague and back at you. "Hello?" He's irritated. "Are we expecting you?"\nThe Hell's gardener clears his throat. "Welcome to Necrotome Publishing," he says. "What can we do for you?"\nYou take another step inside. [["I was hoping to have a word."|publishers]]

Packed with modern classics: Tolkien, Asimov, Leguin, and more. If you're going to steal, [[steal from the best.|studio]]

//History of Arth// began to seem less like an outrageous adventure and more like a hole that Phil couldn't dig himself out of. His sabbatical was approved, and he attacked the book with renewed fervor, but people weren't asking about it anymore. Phil spent more and more time writing in the basement. He occasionally came up to watch Carson in silence with you before collapsing [[into bed.|change]]

<<if $quiz is 1>>Apollo 100! That's it. Good job, detective.<<else is $quiz is 0>>No, that's not right. It'll come to you when you couldn't care less.<<endif>> Shit. Stay on task. You stare down at //Middlemarch//. Maybe you can write the paper without finishing the book. Good luck with that. The chunky phone on the wall rings.\n\n[[Answer it|answer]]\n[[Let Brian answer it|brian]]

Moving boxes are stacked on the concrete floor, along with skis, furniture, and other household junk. Phil's [[writing studio|studio]] occupies the nearest corner.

Of course it was. He must have been boasting to anyone who'd listen, because all of your mutual friends on faculty were prodding you for details. "Come on," they said. "What's he //really// working on?" You assured them that //History of Arth// was all too real, and that, based on what little you'd seen, it was a cross between the "Concerning Hobbits" bit from //Lord of the Rings// and a Ralph Bakshi cartoon. Most of them didn't find this explanation [[enlightening.|vigor]]

Meanwhile, you were teaching four classes, three of them upper-level, so that he could spend more time at home writing. His advance from the publisher had been pitiful, and when you promised to support him, he skipped over the gratitude and said, "You'll probably have to teach this summer, too." Now, he couldn't be bothered to give you the scantest of progress updates. You wouldn't have gotten nosy had he not been so absurdly [[secretive.|secretive]]

"I'll make sense of them," you say. "If I'm to be of any help at all, I need you to be open with me." Your sternness surprises you a little.\n"I'm trying," she says, grasping at air. "but right now I'd rather hear what you think."\n"Okay." You adopt a gentle tone. "We'll come back to this."\nFor a moment, you both just stand there, [[cooling down.|case]]

"Oh, I don't really have any. Just a figure of speech."\nThat's too bad, because you are utterly baffled re: this //Twilight Zone// shit. Utter bafflement is a state you don't often visit, but when you do, it's almost always because someone's not telling you their whole story, or he's embellishing it to the point of fiction. Janet, you think, does have theories, but she's not inclined to share.\n\n[[Press her|press]]\n[[Let it go|leggo]]

Publishers, unfortunately, seemed immune to his enthusiasm. Most declined to hear his pitch at all, and the few times he did get into a room, he heard crickets. His old agent, with whom he'd parted ways after the novel didn't pan out, was supposedly making calls, but you didn't [[hold your breath.|hole]]

She is, to some degree, responsible for Phil's predicament. The real question: does she really want him recovered, or are you just here to test-drive her alibi? It wouldn't be the first time that somebody hired you, essentially, to poke holes in their story, so that they could patch the leaks before the authorities came [[knocking.|case]]

<<timedreplace 1s>>Managing Workplace Stress\n<<gains>>A Diet for Your Mind\n<<gains>>Are You Sad or Depressed?\n<<gains>>The Roots of Anxiety\n<<gains>>A Meditation Primer\n<<gains>>Keep A Dream Journal\n<<gains>>Drink Less, Think More\n<<gains>>Moving Beyond Tragedy\n<<gains>>Sleep Well, Be Well\n<<becomes>><<becomes>>Huh.\n\n[[I'm imagining things|imagine]]\n[[I know what I saw|iknow]]<<endtimedreplace>>

"Really?" you said. "A fantasy novel?"\n"Not a novel," Phil said. "A history."\nHe'd just come up from a ride on the stationary bike, flushed and sweating.\n"For kids?"\n[["For everyone."|everyone]]

"Happily" she says. "That takes some pressure off."\nAnd puts it on you, sport, which is no good, because you are utterly baffled re: this //Twilight Zone// shit. Utter bafflement is a state you don't often visit, but when you do, it's almost always because someone's fudging the truth. Janet hasn't told you everything. Why?\n\n[[She's done something wrong|guilt]]\n[[She doesn't trust you|trust]]\n[[She's afraid|fear]]

"Pawn of Legend over on 39th. Phil knew a previous owner and is kind of fond of the place. I can give you the address."\n\n[["Tell me about the odometer."|odometer]]\n[["Okay."|case]]

<<timedreplace 1s>>Managing Workplace Stress\n<<gains>>A Diet for Your Mind\n<<gains>>Are You Sad or Depressed?\n<<gains>>The Roots of Anxiety\n<<gains>>A Meditation Primer\n<<gains>>Phil Isn't Coming Back\n<<gains>>You're Better Off Without Him\n<<gains>>Move On With Your Life\n<<gains>>Sleep Well, Be Well\n<<becomes>><<becomes>>Wait, what?\n\n[[Look again|scan2]]\n[[I know what I saw|iknow]]<<endtimedreplace>>

<<if $fem is 1>>"Are you a feminist?"\n"I suppose so," you say. Rachel from American Lit is always inviting you to things, but you haven't gone. "I'm not really furthering the cause, though."\n"It's not too late." She sets your <<$bev>> on the table and sits across from you. "We're unlikely to overthrow the patriarchy by Christmas."\n\n[["Sorry to hear that."|coup][$cou=1]]\n[["A good coup takes time."|coup][$cou=2]]<<else if $fem is 2>>"I suppose you read Playboy for the articles."\nYour blush deepens. She sets your <<$bev>> on the table and sits across from you.\n\n[["The fiction is quite good."|playboy][$pla=1]]\n[["I wouldn't know."|playboy][$pla=2]]<<else if $fem is 3>>"I'm sure that was on your mind when you saw Barbarella." Your blush deepens. She sets your <<$bev>> on the table and sits across from you.\n\n[["Barbara who?"|barbarella][$bar=1]]\n[["Did you see Klute? Amazing movie."|barbarella][$bar=2]]<<endif>>

"Disappointing so far. Not abysmal, but not worth killing for." She flashes you a severe glance. "It's crossed your mind, hasn't it?"\n\n[["No."|fortune][$sus=1]]\n[["Of course."|fortune][$sus=2]]\n[["What?"|fortune][$sus=3]]

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"I'll be in touch," Anthony says. "Give me a call if you need to talk sooner. My assistant can take a message if I'm not in."\nYou send him off with some addresses, the names of a few colleagues, and a copy of [[Kappelman's History of Arth.|clues]]

<<if $questions is 0>>"Listen," Bob says, "that's all we can do for you. Good luck."\nYou glance at Tommy, but he's done, too. Bob stands at the already-open office door.\n\n[["Thanks for your time."|exitpub][$bye=1]]\n[["I wish we could have talked longer."|exitpub][$bye=2]]\n[["Just one more question."|exitpub][$bye=3]]<<else>>You consider your questions. These two don't have all day.\n\n[[Why did you publish History of Arth?|whypub][$questions-=1]]\n[[Did you get along with Phil?|likephil][$questions-=1]]\n[[What do you know about Janet?|aboutjanet][$questions-=1]]\n[[Did Phil have enemies?|enemies][$questions-=1]]\n[[Why is it so dark in here?|dark][$questions-=1]]\n[[Do you know about Phil's appendices?|appendices][$questions-=1]]<<endif>>

Phil was gone. You searched the whole basement, looking in absurd places--cardboard boxes, the washing machine, a suitcase--for traces of him. You called his name, absently and repeatedly, like a looped recording. You even moved the bookshelf, to be certain that it wasn't concealing [[a passage.|unfinished]]

You stay still in the darkness. The standing man sighs. He's smaller, with a goatee and a leather jacket. "You're not even considering it."\n"No, I'm not," says the other. His voice is deeper, gruffer. "We've cashed in our favors. Time to cut our losses and move on."\n"How? Tell me how." Goatee turns away and looks through the window, right at you. He jumps. "Shit!"\nYou step into the doorway and try to look unassuming. "Hello," you say, [["and excuse me."|excuse]]

<<if $pan is 1>>It felt foolish, talking to no one. You stood in silence and let the kitchen clock drown your thoughts, tick by tock.<<else if $pan is 2>>You pounded hard. If he was down there, he would hear it.<<else if $pan is 3>>"I'm worried about you, and a little upset, to be honest."<<endif>> Several feelings swirled in your gut, but anger rose most quickly.\n\n[[You forced the door open|doorbreak]]

Phil had been down there for too long. You were sitting at the kitchen table, grading, picking at a salad, when you realized that you hadn't seen him in over 24 hours. Your [[skin crawled.|confront]]

"He's a filmmaker, does animated movies. //Fritz the Cat//? Subversive, adult stuff. It's not all in good taste."\n\n[["Got it."|questions1]]

<<if not visited("brian")>>"Santangelo Investigative Offices, Anthony speaking."\n"Anthony, it's Mark." Your RA. Always nosing around.\n<<endif>>"How can I be of service?"\n"You can't operate a small business out of your dorm room." Exasperation and defeat are palpable in his monotone.\n"Why not?"\n"Because you can't. I looked it up in the handbook." Ugh. Bureaucrats.\n"Why do you care?"\n"Someone reported you to Res Life. Pamela told me to shut you down, no buts."\n"Someone?"\n"Listen, Nancy Drew: my job and stipend are on the line. Go work in the caf, the library, shovel shit--do anything else."\nTo Mark's credit, he's cut you some slack in the past. But a cafeteria job? You're barely making enough as it is.\n\n[["Okay, Mark."|cafeteria]]\n[["Show me the handbook."|handbook]]

Jane Fonda is on the cover. //The long trip from sex object to woman.// She rests her chin thoughtfully on her hand. Like Janet, she wears a turtleneck. You flip through the pages.\n"Are you reading Gloria or looking at Jane?"\nMrs. Kappelman stands in the dining room archway with your <<$bev>>.\nYou blush.\n\n[["Reading Gloria, of course."|fonda][$fem=1]]\n[["I'm not a just-the-pictures type."|fonda][$fem=2]]\n[["Hey, Fonda's a great actress."|fonda][$fem=3]]

You shorten your office hours to make your appointment with Dr. Holt, whom you have a hard time calling Laura, because one of your best friends is named Laura. Meaning: Laura is the name of a person with whom you gossip like an old bat, and there are things that your shrink doesn't [[need to know.|waiting]]

<<if $mov is 1>>The silence made your hair stand on end.<<else if $mov is 2>>Three times. Silence.<<else if $mov is 3>>"Phil? Can you hear me? Say something, please." Silence swallowed your words.<<endif>> "Phil?" you said<<if $mov is 3>> again<<endif>>, "I'd like to know if you're all right." Not a goddamned sound.\n\n[[You waited|stillnothing][$pan=1]]\n[[You knocked|stillnothing][$pan=2]]\n[[You spoke|stillnothing][$pan=3]]

"Basically," Bob says, "she wanted to know that Phil was getting his work done."\n"And he was," Tommy says. "Not as efficiently as we would have liked, but he was on schedule, more or less.\n"Then she started asking about how he looked, how he was acting, and we realized that these two weren't talking to each other."\n"At all."\n"We figured there were some, uh--"\n"Communication issues."\n"--In the Kappelman house, and we just kept our distance from that situation."\n\n[["Understood."|pubquiz]]

You quietly take your handbag, one eye on Bloria. She can squeeze the missed appointment fee out of you some other time. You tiptoe out of the waiting room and into the hall. It's deserted. You slip into the stairwell and [[flee to the street.|flee]]

"I mean, obviously, I was surprised." You silently disagree. Nothing you've learned today has been obvious. "But it's been such a long, strange year, that I guess my capacity for shock is... reduced."\n"I understand." //Keep your sympathy in check.//\n"Thank you."\n[["Why don't you show me the basement?"|dining]]

"Brian, I have a question."\nHe turns around. "Am I on the clock?"\n"Yes."\nHe pushes up his glasses and folds his arms. "What's up?"\n"Under what circumstances could a person spontaneously combust?"\n"Almost certainly not the ones you're thinking of?"\n"Ouch."\n"I'm sorry. Go ahead."\n"Riding too fast on an exercise bike."\n"You're wasting money." He swivels back to his studies. Oh, well. [[Worth a shot.|thursday]]

"I'll be in touch," he says. "Give me a call if you need to talk sooner. My assistant can take a message if I'm not in."\nYou send him off with some addresses, the names of a few colleagues, and a copy of [[Kappelman's History of Arth.|clues]]

<<if visited("history", "sunday")>>You've got history to work with now.\n\n[["Tell me about two months ago."|exercise]]<<else if visited("history", "exercise")>>You've got history to work with now.\n\n[["Tell me about Sunday."|sunday]]<<else>>You've got history to work with now. What next?\n\n[["Tell me about Sunday."|sunday]]\n[["Tell me about two months ago."|exercise]]<<endif>>

<<if visited("exercise", "sunday")>>You now know when things started to get weird.\n\n[["Tell me about last year."|history]]<<else if visited("exercise", "history")>>You now know when things started to get weird.\n\n[["Tell me about Sunday."|sunday]]<<else>>You now know when things started to get weird. What next?\n\n[["Tell me about Sunday."|sunday]]\n[["Tell me about last year."|history]]<<endif>>

<<if visited("sunday", "history")>>You have a time frame for Phil's disappearance.\n\n[["Tell me about two months ago."|exercise]]<<else if visited("sunday", "exercise")>>You have a time frame for Phil's disappearance.\n\n[["Tell me about last year."|history]]<<else>>You now have a time frame for Phil's disappearance. What next?\n\n[["Tell me about two months ago."|exercise]]\n[["Tell me about last year."|history]]<<endif>>

You enter the living room. An upright piano occupies one corner. There are two sofas and no TV. A vacuum cleaner, plugged in, stands at attention near the wall. The floor is covered, regrettably, in blue shag carpet. Mrs. Kappelman offers you a seat.\n"I've put some coffee on," she says. "Can I get you anything?"\n\n[["Coffee's fine, thanks."|beverage][$bev="coffee"]]\n[["A glass of water, please."|beverage][$bev="water"]]\n[["Honestly? I'd love a Coke."|beverage][$bev="Coke"]]

Goatee fumes. "Who are you?" The sitting man eyes you with suspicion, but calmly. He has a long, braided beard, like a Hell's Angel, although his fierceness is offet by his overalls, which have more of a hippie gardener vibe. Both men are probably in their fifties.\n"I'm Anthony Santangelo," you say. [["Do you have a minute?"|publishers]]

<<if $odds is 1>>"I hope so," she says. "Thank you."\n"Don't thank me yet," you say, "but I appreciate your confidence."<<else if $odds is 2>>"I thought you might say something like that."\n"We know very little right now," you say. "It's important, for better and worse, to keep an open mind."<<else if $odds is 3>>"Fair enough," she says, disappointed.\n"At this point," you say, "probability is just speculation, and won't do us any good."<<endif>>\nShe nods silently.\n"Expect to hear from me again tomorrow," you say. "Probably late. Before I go, is there anything you'd [[like to add?"|add]]

Abruptly, the bike hummed for about ten seconds, and Phil stumbled off, panting. The typewriter clattered non-stop for hours. He was still at it when you went [[to bed.|everynight]]

And there's Phil. Excuse you--Philip J. Kappelman, according his bio. The photo makes him seem incredibly dour, all upturned nose and high cheekbones. His owlish glasses make him look angry. There's not a hint of irony in the photo. <<if visited("photos")>>A far cry from the joyful groom in the wedding pictures. <<endif>>You sense Janet [[fidgeting.|fidget]]

<<if $bev is "Coke">>Way to downplay the whole boy detective thing.\n"Oh," she says. "Sure. Just a minute."<<else if $bev is "coffee">>Detectives drink coffee. Coke is for teen sleuths.\n"Great," she says. "I'll just be a minute."<<else if $bev is "water">>"Sure," she says. "I'll just be a minute."<<endif>>\nShe passes through the dining room and disappears into the kitchen. You drum your fingers on the sofa's armrest. An issue of [[Ms. Magazine|msmag][$div=1]] lies on the coffee table.

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"I found a crowbar in our crawlspace."\n\n[["Okay, then."|questions3]]