"Mmm... dammit."<br/><br/>Isaiah said as he spied the police seal, blocking his entrance to the doors. Well, that figured, neat and tidy as ever were these people. And as much as he had no love for the cops and their skewed view on the control they had over the city, he didn't exactly stay off their radar and the last thing he wanted was to break the seal on the door. Even though this Bronk guy had died elsewhere, he doubted that there was nothing here, even after the police had checked it out. Luckily with the kinda place this was, they didn't bother with assigning someone to watch the house, which made it easier... at least in terms of stealth, to climb the lattice into the closest window.<br/><br/>As he made his way inside, he sat for a second on one of the chairs, looking at the man's room. First thoughts: what a closed in asshole. Seemed like a rather simple place, but knowing all the rumors about the guy painted this place as rather fake considering his outside activities. Far as Isaiah thought, this guy dug his own graved and the man burning in his own particular pit in hell wasn't exactly a thought he didn't have a hard time thinking about. All he wanted from this man, was what he knew about his situation. Of course he could have just been a hump that got what he wanted out of that place. But if it went as far to be that sloppy, and fairly obvious that the only wounds on him were on the neck... maybe there was a little more.<br/><br/>But he had to think about it, and he crossed he sat back rather casually in the late Mr. Bronk's easy chair, contemplating the situation of it all. Although, it rang rather close to his own experience... and that... was interesting in itself.