Book 2: Chapter 55: Bueller? (1/2)
Burl Meyers lived in an unassuming little apartment complex in Northwest Austin, inside a suburban community unique to Dimension A named Richardsville. It was a thoroughly middle-class affair, with prices most likely ranging just a bit higher than someone in Burl's position ought to pay. But it lay beside a safe, calm neighborhood that had gone relatively untouched by the repeated disasters that had struck Austin in these past months.
Dan had accompanied Gregoir to the location, pulled from employee records that Waylon's manager had willingly turned over. The man had given little thought to his security guard quitting; the manager had considered doing the same and saw the action as perfectly rational. That being said, the resignation had been done via email, and the manager hadn't spoken to his former employee since. It had only been a part-time gig, so no follow-up had been required by anyone involved.
Mr. Meyers was a loner, with no close family nor friends. His emergency contact information came back to a disconnected phone number, likely made up on the spot out of privacy or shame. His building superintendent, in a brief phone interview, had admitted that he hadn't spoken to the man in over a week. He also reported that Burl's car was not in its usual spot, but he couldn't say for how long that had been the case.
There was little reason to believe that Andros Bartholomew was actually living in this apartment complex. In fact, there was still no hard evidence linking Bartholomew to Burl Meyers at all. Waylon had yet to recover from whatever had been done to him, assuming that he would recover at all, and the tampered footage that Dan had obtained was being poked at by the APD's Geek Squad.
The video from the Pearson was of much greater import, clearly showing Bartholomew's features and his general direction, but it hadn't been enough to obtain a warrant to search Burl Meyer's apartment. The complex's manager had proven resistant to even Gregoir's charm, flatly refusing to provide the keys to his tenant's room. It was the rare person who could outright deny a police officer; it was just Dan's luck that they'd found such a person in charge of a tiny clump of rented buildings.
Dan was pretty sure the guy just got off on his own authority.
So Dan and Gregoir were down to politely knocking on Burl's door and hoping for the best. Watching Gregoir walk, hunched down and shoulders drawn in tight, through the apartment's narrow corridor was almost worth the trip to Dan. The big man carefully maneuvered his bulk sideways, before tapping his knuckles against the apartment door. Gregoir's fist was the size of a dinner plate, and the gentle knock nearly put a hole in the cheap fiberwood.
They both waited for a minute for an answer, with Dan impatiently slipping his veil inside the room. His threads quickly spread across the floor, searching for life. They swept across cheap carpet and tile, up and through the furniture, all along the walls: Nothing. The apartment was empty in more ways than one. The fridge and freezer were both barren. The microwave had been hollowed out, its electronic guts missing completely. No electronics anywhere, so far as Dan could sense. Certainly nothing plugged in, and nothing that he could recognize. He couldn't even find a television.
How very suspicious. Dan needed to get Gregoir inside this room. The officer's more experienced eye would be of tremendous use. The issue was a legal one. They'd been denied entry by the landlord, and lacked a warrant. Dan wasn't sure if he could tell Gregoir anything specific about the room quite yet. He certainly wasn't going to admit it was empty until he had a better understanding of the rules for entry.
”So am I allowed to tell you what's inside?” Dan asked, trying to find where the line lay in this situation.
Gregoir frowned. ”I am not allowed to ask. Officers are not supposed to use extrasensory upgrades, theirs or others, to see into private property without a warrant.”
There was quite a bit of room to maneuver there, legally speaking. Dan considered his options.
”Under what circumstances could you enter without a warrant?” Dan asked.
”I would need reasonable suspicion that a crime is about to be committed, or that a life is in danger,” Gregoir replied. ”It's unlikely that I'll be presented with either of those in the next few minutes.”
Dan scratched at his chin. ”What if the door is unlocked?”
”Even if that were the case, which it isn't,” Gregoir then tried the knob, and it jiggled against the lock, ”I'd still need cause to enter. If there's not a crime being committed, or if nobody within is in immediate danger, then Mr. Meyers still has a right to privacy.”
This whole legal search thing was sure a pain in the ass. That was probably a good thing, Dan thought wryly, but tremendously inconvenient in this moment. Gregoir was only willing to bend the rules so far.
”What constitutes danger?” Dan asked.
Gregoir shrugged guilelessly. ”That is left to an officer's judgement. It could be anything from hearing a cry for help, or a struggle, or simply hearing someone fall down.”