8483/Sniffing Around JVD Fashion

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Sniffing Around JVD Fashion
Date of Scene: 24 July 2019
Location: A temporary office, Manhattan, New York
Synopsis: Janet van Dyne hires Jessica Jones to investigate her recent run of 'bad luck'.
Cast of Characters: Wasp (van Dyne), Jessica Jones




Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
New York's full of temporary offices. Business incubators, places for people to start new corporations, do research, take meetings that aren't in their parent's homes or their garages. They're also handy for clandestine meetings with detectives, such as this one.

Jessica Jones gets a bit of a runaround for the meeting. Last-minute time changes, new locations. Even as she heads upstairs to 201, someone intercepts her and tells her the client's in 302.

He admits her into the room. It contains a long conference table, and a single occupant. A woman in a white pantsuit, double-breasted, though the plunging cut and lack of undershirt puts some cleavage on display. But her expression is all business when Jessica enters.

"Jessica Jones? I'm Janet van Dyne." She gestures at the seat on her right hand. "I don't think we've been formally introduced. Please, have a seat. I have some trouble, and I think you're the one to help me."

Jessica Jones has posed:
Jessica is actually familiar with the game, she's had a few high profile clients. Mind you not many of them, but she knows how paranodic they get, and in one case at least the paranoia was well placed. However, she wasn't even aware who it was she was supposed to meet. So this time around, she grew more irate with each curve ball.

But when she's eventually lead to the room with the conference table and the one sharply dressed woman, she lets it slide. Janet Van Dyne is a big shot, and she's been going through hell. All dicreet measures were fair, particularly when meeting with a P.I. like Jess, who carries quite the reputation.

"I know who you are, not to many in this damned city dress as good as you, van Dyne," Jessica notes. In retrospect, Jessica's looks surely must be jarring for Janet, ripped jeans, white tank top with a black bra undreneath, finished with a rugged leather jacket. Oh, and then there's the fingerless gloves. Nobody is putting Jessica on New York's best dressed articles anytime soon.

Jessica does move to sit down, looking curiously at Janet, "I'd be glad to help, is this to be kept on the down low, or can I list you as referal if I solve your case?"

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Until it's done? Discretion is key," Janet says. "You get this sorted and we figure out what's going on, you can put me down on Facebook as a happy client."

She digs in a leather attache case that probably cost more than Jessica's car, and sets a manila folder down on the table. "I think I'm being targted by someone," she says, flatly. "I can't confirm it. It's just a hunch. But I've had the worst month of my life, business-wise, and it's entirely too much to be coincidental. Factory in Pakistan was overtaken, my CFO was charged with fraud, and now I'm facing a personal financial audit by the IRS. On top of that I've had several key staff members caught up in personal drama, ranging from maybe-baby-mommas showing up with paternity suits to debt collectors trying to seize their cars and homes. It's just too much coincdence to /be/ coincidence."

Jessica Jones has posed:
"I can do discretion, you can contact Jeryn Hogarth, the killer lawyer, see what she has to say about my discretion," Jessica actually blurts that reference with all seriousness. Jeri might have differing views, not that it matters for the duration of this meeting.

When the manila folder is set on the table, Jessica reaches to grab it if allowed, reaching to take a quick look through.

As she listens to the list of things, which Jessica is aware of from having the news on at certain places she walked into, she can concur with Janet's assumption. "There's no such thing as this much coincidence, that's for sure." Reclining in her seat and setting her legs up on the conference table, Jessica starts flipping through sheets, "do you have any people you've destroyed in competition recently? Someone you may have fired on bad terms? A business rival perhaps..." she then pauses, peeks at Janet curiously, and offers tentatively, "a stalker you've spurned?"

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet just lifts a brow at that last question. "You really think I couldn't handle a stalker?" she asks, rhetorically.

"No. I am at a loss," she admits. "JVD Fashion's had a few years of crushing success," she admits. "Most of the fashion leaders in the industry would like to see me take a tumble. My stocks are soaring and it's cut into their sales." She sighs wearily and passes fingers over her forehead. "JVD Fashion's worth about five billion dollars. It's not the same level as say, Nike, or Vuitton, but we're up there. Anyone on the Forbes list would be happy to see me take a tumble."

Jessica Jones has posed:
"Don't get me wrong Janet," Jessica notes as she looks up from the folder, grinning at Janet, "I feel a traditional stalker wouldn't last long with you, but I've met some real sick bastards in my line of work, and I could see a psychotic douche saying to himself...if I can't have Janet, then I can at least destroy her, then she'll want me..." she pauses to let it sink in, "some stalkers are twisted like that, I mean, they are stalkers. It's just a thought, I wouldn't rule out anything."

"Question is...would a rival from the fashion world go to these lengths?" Jessica muses, "would there be anyone that might have a real personal reason to damage you as much as they can...? You can think about the most trivial things, argument that seemed petty to you, relationship, refusing to give an autograph or time of day to some super fan?"

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet sighs. "Look, the fashion world... yeah, we're a bunch of cutthroats, but they're all drama queens. Most of the guys are gay and the women are career-obsessed nutjobs like me," she says. "I can't exactly just call them up and ask, either. There are fifty major designers and CEOs who wouldn't cry if JVD Fashion went tits up overnight. Should I call Edna Mode and ask her?" she inquires, rhetorically. "Or Calvin Klein? He's a pompous shit, but I don't think he'd do this to me. Patrick Thomas, I could call... Donatalla, I guess, or Kate. Mugatu's working this Italian beach line. Tom Ford?" Janet shrugs, helplessly.

"I'm sorry, I just don't even know where to start. I'm pretty sure it's not Dr. Doom, if that helps. He'd go after the Avengers. Not me, personally."

She digs a checkbook out of her attache case and scribbles on it with a fountain pen. A little precious tourmaline in wasp yellow adorns the cap. "I need you to start looking into it. I don't care what it takes. I'm going to Pakistan to look into my factory before the weekend is out. I might get some answers there. Will fifty thousand cover your retainer?" she inquires, and offers the check to Jessica.

Jessica Jones has posed:
"Hey, you said it," Jessica grins widely at Janet's assessment of the men and women of the fashion world. It's great, because it saved Jessica from saying the very same, and potentially offending a new client. If anything, at least it means Janet is very good at analyzing and assessing, so whatever information she has to provide ought to be reliable.

"You know, I could put up a fake info that I'm a super enabled mercenary looking for any gigs, and hoping to cause a lot of damage to property. See if anyone is looking to hire any hits on your facilities, I've gone fishing before, but seems like that would be a good start."

Jessica was about to mention her usual fee, before she nods, not even blinking. "That'll do perfectly, if possible, I'd like to accompany you to investigate the premises, see if there's any clues I might find. I'm pretty good at digging at garbage and coming up with intel..."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"If I can, I'll bring you along. You won't, uh.... exactly blend into the streets of Lahore," Janet warns Jessica. "I can get there on my own dime 'cause I own the damn factory, but you're going to need to pack a burqa."

She gets to her feet. "Anyway. If you run into any major barries, call me. I can authorize a credit card for incidentals if need be. I need this asshole /found/, Jones," she says, and her elfin figures crease with a fury that's quite shocking given her delicate appearance. "He's hurting my people and he's cost me a hundred million bucks already. I want to get this sorted, yesterday."

Jessica Jones has posed:
"The Streets of Lahore can go fuck themselves, I just want a look at the site, I'm sure it was a sloopy hit job, and I could find something, Pakistanis were never geniuses," Jess says that with way too much confidence for someone who doesn't usually step outside of New York. Though she did at one time had very strong intentions to go to China indefinitely.

Then there's the mention of a burqa and Jessica twitches. It looks like she's still processing the very idea, and would have very much liked to have had someone to throw through the wall as she contemplates this disaster of a price to pay. "Don't tell me they force that shit on tourists too?" Jessica grumbles, her eyes shooting about, "does this room has any whiskey? Bourbon? Anything?" Oh that anger is surging at the offense that hasn't even happened yet.

"I'm on it, don't worry, I'll get you a lead, I'm good at finding trash."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Go cash the check and there's whatever ... bourbon you need," Janet says. She steps away from the table, red designer heels clicking on the hardwood. "As for the Pakistani Tourism Board, that's on you to get sorted, if you go there. Your time might be better spent stateside triyng to figure out who can bribe the IRS and the SEC both into attacking me at once. But-- you're the PI," she adds, with an airy gesture. "I'm sure you'll figure it out. This is my number," she says, and taps a yellow-painted fingernail on the manila folder's cover. "It's my personal line, and quite secure. Call me if you find out /anything/ useful. I expect to get my money's worth, Miss Jones. You come quite highly recommended."

Jessica Jones has posed:
"My gut feeling is that if a super was involved, it may be the same mercenary behind several of your bad fortunes...but a burqa...I could go to jail for life for what I'll do to the poor son of a bitch who tries to suggest I put on that embodiment of misogyny on me."

Jessica puts away the check, gathers the folder, and heads out, "you're right...might be best I stay state side and not kill anyone abroad. I'll get on it. Though I guess another option is to go undercover as a dude, just to be spared the horrors. I'll think it over."