Nov 30, 2010 15:05
There was little to be said of the daily business that went on. He allowed himself to be shuffled, mind embedded too deeply in things he shouldn't be dwelling on. The night was over, the shadows had vanished, and there was little more than bad memories to be left in their stead. This was logic, pure and simple, and should have been reassuring but
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leela,
kirk,
s.t.,
badd,
anise,
england,
sam winchester,
amaterasu,
niikura,
taura,
franziska,
claire bennet,
peter parker,
snow,
lunge,
ruby,
mello,
brainiac 5,
xemnas,
the flash,
minako,
stefan,
watson,
peter petrelli,
soma,
mele,
damon,
kanda,
two-face,
tomoe,
isaac,
erika,
edgar,
neku,
maya,
zack,
kratos,
l,
sechs,
scott pilgrim,
gumshoe,
aigis,
izaya,
sora,
claude,
guybrush,
elena gilbert,
dean winchester,
gant,
buzz,
grell,
guy,
kairi,
gaara,
depth charge,
kibitoshin,
ilia,
rita,
lightning,
castiel,
fai,
yue,
sasuke,
claire stanfield,
ema skye,
mccoy,
the master,
scar (tlk)
Getting witness statements from everyone... Why hadn't he thought of it before? That was how the detectives in the Criminal Affairs Department maintained their good reputation, after all; the reason that they all had a similar case closure rate every year was because they made sure each bit of evidence and testimony was solid. How could anyone call himself a detective when they didn't question everyone involved in a case right away?
He'd known that there would come a time when he would have to question everyone, of course. Saying he was too close to the case was an understatement; he was smack in the middle of it! That meant Gumshoe was as much a victim as the next guy. But he guessed that was why he never realized that he could hit the ground running whenever he wanted. If Mr. Edgeworth found out...
Well, it didn't matter too much, he supposed. Anyway, the day they finally escaped wouldn't come for a while... As far as he knew, the longest anyone had stayed here (so far) was about a month or so, and they weren't any closer to finding an escape route. Now that he thought about it, having victims that were available for questioning was nice. Gumshoe knew better than anyone that you didn't just let go of a chance to hear first-hand testimony until it was too late. Knowing that they might have been presumed dead once was a little unsettling, too, even for him.
Gumshoe grabbed a slice of pizza (he had to remind himself not to go all out) and took a look around. It was probably better if he questioned people one at a time, at least at first. He didn't want to give a bad first impression if could help it, so he ruled out people already stuck in conversation for the moment. What he would have really liked was to start with someone who was sitting alone.
The detective saw such a person nearby. He took a deep breath through his nose and licked his lips before heading over. At any rate, this guy looked like he could use some company. "Hi there!" he greeted, hoping he sounded friendly, but mostly testing the waters. "Um, do you mind if I sit here?"
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Though there was one thing that always changed, and that was the company. It wasn't often that Peter went a whole day without talking to a complete stranger. That was the sort of interaction that you couldn't expect to get during a normal, routine life, where approaching someone randomly to talk would have been seen as abnormal behavior.
Luckily for him, he liked to meet new faces, and he sent a half-smile up at the man. He seemed to be in a decent enough mood, which meant he probably hadn't had to deal with whatever Claire had mentioned to him over the bulletin. But maybe it was better to not have to talk about that sort of thing for once.
"Sure," he said once he'd fully swallowed that bite of pizza. "My name's Peter, by the way. Are you new here? I'm not sure if I've seen you around before." It was hard to keep track, and the stranger didn't really have any features that stood out, so Peter couldn't be sure. Still, new or not, he'd be happy to talk to him.
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He placed his tray and notebook on the table and took a seat opposite from the man. "Nice to meet you, pal. Nah, I'm what you'd call a 'veteran'," he replied. However, the wide smile faded fast. Back in his rookie days, he'd been accused of lulling people into a 'false sense of security', or something like that. That went especially for Landel's Institute, where he was dressed the same as everyone else. Witnesses (and/or victims) wouldn't necessarily be aware they were being pulled over, so to speak.
He'd put off making his introduction long enough. "See, I'm a member of an investigation team that's trying to a build a case against Dr. Landel." As it stood, a team consisting of all of two people, but he wasn't going to tell him that. They might be able to recruit more members in due time! "My name's Detective Dick Gumshoe. Can I ask you a few questions?" He paused, suddenly aware his gaze was starting to wander away from Peter, then added: "The only method of proof we can count on right now is testimony, so any information you have could be very helpful to our case."
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He hadn't realized the man had been here for so long (he didn't know the exact length of time, but if the guy knew the term "veteran" then it was probably a while -- maybe even longer than him), but maybe he'd just missed him. After all, he'd just been thinking about how there wasn't too much about the man that stood out, and wasn't that the same for him? Compared with some of the weird dye jobs some of the kids had...
When the guy went on to explain what he wanted, though, Peter was taken aback. He hadn't realized a group like that even existed here, but maybe they were more secretive than some of the clubs. "Oh, really? Well, sure, I wouldn't mind helping with something like that." It did sound a little implausible, but he wasn't about to harsh on someone else's idea. Most of the clubs here were mainly for the sake of feeling like they had some unity rather than because they got all that much done, after all. "What would you like to know?" he asked as he leaned back in his chair and took another bite of his pizza.
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Gumshoe flipped open his notebook and flicked through pages with random notes he'd jotted down from time to time speckled across them. It'd been a while since he'd really sat down and read through all of it, but now that it was at the front of his mind, it was high time he gave it a good clean-out and organized the information in an order that others could follow. This notebook was technically the property of Landel's Institute, but it was destined to become an ultra-important document someday. Kind of like the one he used at home!
As Peter sat back in his chair, Gumshoe leaned forward, his hand resting on a blank page. "Alright then, let's start with the basics," he said with a small smile. No point in acting like he was miserable when he felt optimistic. After taking his pen out from behind his ear and writing down the man's name, it was ready, set... "First of all, how long do you think you've been here?"
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He continued to eat as he watched the man flip through the pages of his notebook, and unlike some other people, it was actually filled with a good amount of writing. This guy wasn't messing around, then. Peter realized he could have done to write more things down, but the most important things he would always remember, so it hadn't really seemed necessary to him.
The first question was as easy as could be, though he already knew that he wouldn't be able to give the man an exact answer. "It's just an estimate, but I'd say that it's been about... a little over two weeks?" It really didn't seem like that much in the grand scheme of things, but if this guy was a veteran then he'd realize that it was significant. "How about you?" He wasn't going to take notes on it, but he might as well fill his curiosity now that they were on the subject.
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But this was no time to think about that. He let out a short cough before continuing. "Er, anyway." He promptly poised the pen over the page and looked back up again. "Next question: Where are you from?"
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"I know what you mean," he said with a nod. "It's way too easy to lose track of time." Which was disconcerting all on its own, since he had no idea what day it was. His guess was somewhere toward the end of November, but even that was pure conjecture.
The next question was also a simple one, and Peter couldn't help wondering why the man wasn't just asking these things over the bulletin. Maybe he preferred the face-to-face approach. "I'm from New York City," he explained, taking a bite of his pizza as if to make his point.
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Ah, but listen to him, running off at the mouth again. He broke off his musings to focus on the task in front of him: writing down the answer Peter just gave him. NYC. "Is that right? I'm from Central LA, myself," he answered brightly, flashing a crooked smile. "What did you do there?" He'd only asked out of curiosity, but he realized after a few beats that it was something he needed to ask him anyway. The detective thought he'd feel bad about buttering the guy up, yet he was finding it easy to be interested in learning more about Peter, as if in spite of the duty he'd been assigned. It also occurred to him that 'occupation' should have come right after 'name'. Well, better late than never, he guessed.
Now it was time for the most important question of all, the one he'd been leading up to. More than once in the past, he'd made the mistake of asking very serious questions in an interrogation too early. Gumshoe knew that reactions in their current situation would vary; some wouldn't want to continue, others could be fine with it, and the rest might have a hard time answering.
"Alright, pal. After this next question, you're done. I saved the worst for last, though, so take all the time you need. Since arriving here, what are some of the worst injuries you've had?" 'If any' didn't have to be tacked on to the end of that. Anyone who'd been here for more than two weeks would have gotten a scratch or two at some point, he silently reasoned out to himself. He just hoped he hadn't pushed his luck by asking such a personal question. Due to the nervousness Gumshoe suddenly felt over the possibility, he added: "There's no need to go into specifics." He rarely doubted his expertise in getting people to talk, but he didn't have jurisdiction anymore. Put simply, there was nothing keeping Peter from walking away whenever he felt uncomfortable. So far, he'd been pretty helpful, though. Gumshoe would have to wait and see.
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It was kind of funny to hear that the man was from Los Angeles, considering what little he knew of Matt Parkman. Another detective from LA, huh? It was a weird coincidence, but probably nothing more than that. (Though there was a slight resemblance, wasn't there?) "Oh, I was a nurse," he explained, realizing that that was one thing he hadn't told the guy yet. It was way more complicated than that, of course, but it seemed that the detective just wanted the basic facts. That he could do.
Hearing that there was one question that counted as the worst would be enough to make anyone nervous, but when Gumshoe actually put it out there, it wasn't as bad as Peter had expected. Granted, his profession meant that he was used to describing injuries in a clinical way, though the fact that he had to talk about himself did make it a bit different.
There was one thing that came to the front of his mind without having to think about it, though, and that was the incident with Roland. Seeing how he didn't have to go into specifics, Peter decided to give the man the cut and dry version. "I got a chunk bitten out of my arm once," he said, running his hand over the now-healed area. "It was done by... what I guess people would call a demon." Roland hadn't been anything like the demon Peter had dealt with that night when the doors had been going crazy, but it was probably as good of a term as anything else.
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