46. Lockpicking Incompetence.

Went looking for a life vest, charts, and the keys to a launch (none of which achieved).

But, I did pilfer some documents from the security office on Deck D, when on the lookout for some kind of gun.

Wouldn’t have tried it if Security weren’t such automatons, and even then, I still had my heart in my pocket. Unfortunately, my entire plan revolved around picking the lock on a drawer – and it turns out I’m completely useless at it, despite my enduring love of lady detective novels. Had a vague notion about a hatpin clicking about in a keyhole, but then took an hour piddling around with my scratchy bit of metal, and was twice under the desk with guards wandering about.

In the end, a guard sauntered in, scratched his unmentionables (at my unfortunate head height), recovered his lunch tin from the drawer I’d been working on, and then left the dratted drawer open, anyway

Not that I really needed any proof – nor is there anyone to show it to, by the way of sorting things out – but as I had already deduced, Maud, people are going missing on this ship.

There have also been arrests and drop-offs at the brig – but the sentences seem to be for mere fractions of time – hours and minutes. That amounts to a mild cool off period – a slap on the hand for carelessness and getting caught, I suppose. ‘His’ game would suffer otherwise, and how else might we murder everyone down to the last unfortunate soul, if all of us were incarcerated?

How ugly!

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