For better or worse, the fact that you're reading this letter I sent you means I'm tailing you, to find out why you're so interested in me. I mean, really now. I do what your people do for a living, too - did you really think a BPD inspector wouldn't notice some freelance detectives are keeping tabs on her for somebody? I've known all about the P.I.s you've had tailing me for some time now, but I really want to know what it is you expect to find.
If you're looking for blackmail material, I'm afraid you're just wasting your gold, because there's none to be had. Just about everything I've divulged in this letter that you're about to read is easily-obtained public information, and anything that isn't is either officially classified information you don't need to know or of absolutely no interest to you, or likely a little of both. If you're a journalist looking for a juicy expose, you're also just wasting your gold, for the same reasons. And if you're doing this just to intimidate me, you probably ought to know vampires are very hard to intimidate.
That said, I don't really see why I shouldn't give you what it is you want; I don't want the gold you spent to go completely to waste, after all.
Let's start with my name and title. I'm Inspector Ava Lesile Crow, but please, call me Ava Corvidae. Everybody does, outside of my primary line of work. See, when I'm not working on cases on or off the clock, I keep myself busy by preforming gigs as a stage magician. I'm not well-known enough to land gigs at big-name venues like Gold Mountain, but I have my fans. More to the point, I parlay my skills at illusion and misdirection to solve "impossible" crimes; more about that later.
That's not to say I don't believe in the supernatural, of course. I am a vampire, after all. I'm also a necromancer in the classical sense - I summon or bodily raise and then interrogate the dead, and once I'm done asking corpses and shades questions I let them get back to their well-earned rest. It's a useful bit of sorcery, especially for a Barton police inspector.
One of the rumors you probably might have heard is that I was a victim in a triple homicide case, and that the culprit was never found. This is actually true. I technically died in the very early morning of June 30th of 2007, but, of course, nobody knew we vampires even exist until the incident that broke out around Halloween that year. I'm not exactly proud of it, but I served in Vlad's army, and very few even knew I was still active until I managed to crawl away from an ambush gone wrong while the fighting was winding down. The only reason why I'm still active is because I just barely managed to escape to Von Helson Manor, where Louie and his brother Ian found me, I.D.ed me, and turned me over the the cops.
Here's where it gets weird, though. The only thing I can remember from before I was turned into a vampire, is my name. I was subjected to all kinds of psychological and neurological testing to figure out what caused my amnesia, and nothing out of the ordinary registered. I have, for all intents and purposes, a healthy brain, so the best anybody ever came up with as an explanation is that I suffered some kind of extreme emotional or physical trauma that corrected itself by the time testing could be administered. The only anomaly is my persistent amnesia.
I became interested in my own murder case. So much so that I fought tooth and nail to join the Barton Police Department as one of their police detectives. I got the job after some struggling and, after using a little necromancy and some plain old misdirection to help solve a lot of cases involving preternatural agency, I was promoted to head of the Supernatural Crimes Division. If there's so much as a hint that the suspect or victim is or was magical, or a Zerg, or, really, anything other than human, it's generally kicked over to my area and sitting right there on my desk the next morning. Not that I'm complaining. All of us within the SCD have first-hand experience with the supernatural prior to joining the force, so it's right up our ally.
I'm also sometimes brought in to help bust psychic cons and investigate cases where stage magic was likely involved, since I can spot things the detectives without illusionist or mentalist training can't.
I'd love to say I'm proud of what it is I've accomplished, but the thing is, I can't. There's one case I've never been able to crack yet no matter how and where I look for leads. The Crow triple homicide case, the very reason I joined BPD. I was supposed to be the break in the case when I was found, but when it became clear my lack of memory turned what should have been a lead into a red herring, the case lost some of its momentum. It's been losing a lot of steam, even with me throwing in for it so much; at this point, I'm the only one rallying to keep it open, so there's a good chance the case will be closed.
Not that that would stop me from looking into it. Even if I've served long enough to face mandatory retirement and have outlived my colleagues by the time I solve it, then and only then will I consider my career definitively complete.
You now have all the dirt you could possibly need on me, even if you could have found all of this yourself with a five-second browser search. This is where the letter should be concluding, but there's still one other thing I really think you should know.
The reason why I was so cooperative about giving you information is because this letter was a ruse to get your guard down. I've been observing you the whole time you've been reading this, so I already know who you are and why you're after information on me. Have a wonderful and totally paranoia-free day.
Your friendly neighborhood Ava.