[SCENE] [Flashback] [In Between] Something Involving Gant in the Title
(("I worked alongside Gant for a number of years..." ))
[[I know that part]]
((We were trying to catch a man called Joe Darke...))
[[yes I know]]
((Did you know that we called him in for questioning and that he did not turn himself in))
[[WHAT]]
[[then Gant didn't need to kill Neil at all...!!]]
Lana: *it's a rather rainy morning in late February, 2022. Lana is in the kitchen, drying off her hands on a dishtowel after having rinsed off the breakfast plates. She glances to her watch after she's done, noting the time* Jake? We should get going.
Jake: *is sitting at the dining table, idly looking through some fliers*Already? A tad early for that, don't you think?
Lana: There might be traffic--and I'm not sure how complex getting clearance for the both of us will be. *walks over to the dining room area, managing a rather dry smile* Besides--it's not the sort of thing one should show up late to.
Jake: Eager to show up bright 'n' early for the show, huh? *looks up, a small smirk on his features*
Lana: *shakes her head* No, not particularly. But it's the last loose thread of it all, isn't it?
Jake: Rinsin' out the barrel, so to speak. *stares at her for a couple of beats -* How you holdin' up?
Lana: Me? I'm fine. *gently* This event isn't any more significant for me than it is for you, I'd imagine.
Jake: You could say that, I suppose. *pauses again, his face neutral; this isn't a topic they normally breach* But the scar he left on you ain't exactly the same as the one he left on me.
Lana: Not exactly the same. *glances down* You were hurt far more, weren't you? Or at least, I would say so.
Jake: Hurt of a different sort. The two are like apples and oranges. *looking toward her, carefully* ...We never did open this can o' worms, did we?
Lana: ...Is there something left to open? *glances down at her watch and then to the door, before she looks at him again*
Jake: You tell me. *smoothes back his hair with his palm* This chapter's closin' today -- may as well air out the past one last time before puttin' it to rest forever.
Lana: Very well-- *takes the seat beside him, resting a hand on the table* Is there something in particular you want to know? Or shall I detail it from the beginning?
Jake: *thinks on this for a moment, glancing down at the table* Hearin' the tale from the beginning in your own words may do it.
Lana: *is quiet for a moment as she considers*
Lana: When I went into the office that night and saw Ema and Darke unconscious--and Neil... there like that... I panicked. *pauses* I don't think we discussed it at any length during the trial, but I suppose it goes without saying that Damon had arranged the scene so that it was more... incriminating. Ema couldn't have fallen quite like that, when she fainted.
Lana: The first thing I saw was the body. I took a photograph; it was my first instinct. As it became more and more clear to me what happened-when I saw Ema there like that and found the broken jar... I tried to wipe the bloodstains away. *shakes her head* I don't know why; I wasn't thinking clearly. Ema was still unconscious, and I couldn't wake her.
Lana: Gant came in about five minutes after I arrived I think, I'm not entirely sure. *shuts her eyes* I was the one who asked him, of course-to help in any possible way. He asked if I knew what that would entail--I did. And we had to hurry. I forgot whose suggestion it was, to move everything across the room...
Lana: *pauses* I hated myself for the decision, even then. But you can live with that self-loathing to some degree-especially if you cling to the reasons you chose it.
Jake: *gently takes her hand with both of his* I hear you, bambina. Don't go beating your head in over this. He knew what he was doing the entire time, didn't he?
Lana: *frowns slightly at the touch, but doesn't pull her hand away* Right--I know. No, I don't let myself get hung up on that any longer. *runs her thumb lightly against the back of his hand, in thought*
Lana: He didn't mention any stipulations at first, but I knew I was indebted to him. *laughs slightly, quietly* I was so grateful, then. That he could go so far--to even turn against everything he honored and upheld for his partner...
Lana: After everything was done and over with, I called for help and then carried Ema aside. *glances at Jake* It was only around then that it really struck me, how you would take it all. And what you would think, if you knew the truth... But I don't need to elaborate on that part, do I?
Jake: *keeps looking at her, completely serious* So from that day on, you couldn't go against his word.
Lana: *meets his eyes* Correct. Damon always had a way of making it very clear, without directly threatening--but the implication was there. *hesitates* There were only a few times I needed a reminder: the first time outside of SL-9 he asked me to submit a piece of evidence I knew was planted, for instance. ...I caught the hint pretty quickly.
Jake: *grips her hand, seemingly a bit unnerved by her words* I recall you two were like hand and glove back in those days. Even after February 19th, after you were promoted...you were still a team.
Lana: The dynamics changed slowly at first, but they did nonetheless--until I really was merely following orders. Did it seem that way, at all? Or did we seem so very unified from the outside?
Jake: Hard to say...those days are all tired memories now, and they get older and more faded with time. *averting his eyes* I tried not to pay much mind to you 'n' Gant's relationship, specifically. You were still a team -- that, I heard through the grapevine.
Lana: *catches him glancing off, and shakes her head slightly* What you must have thought... Well. We "cooperated" together through those two years. There was no need to tamper with every single trial, but you've read how many there were in total. It was quite the complex matter to sort out, afterward.
Jake: I'll hand it to the both of you: you kept the lid airtight on that one. There were rumours of tampering blowin' about, but that's all they were -- rumours. *glancing back at her* I didn't want to believe them, but I couldn't afford to give room for benefit of doubt.
Lana: I don't blame you. If I were in your shoes-- *laughs slightly* I might have gone Angel's route.
Jake: *rubs her fingers and gives a wry smile at that, but it soon falters* Bambina, there's somethin' I've been meaning to ask you in regards to those two years...but I wasn't sure when would be an appropriate occasion.
Lana: And you've waited till now? *studies his features carefully, then glances off again* ...I should hope we're past the point of keeping things from each other.
Jake: Asking you this ain't so simple. *clearly, considering every word* After your trial, after it all came to light -- Many moons, I wondered...
Jake: Did he ever touch you, Lana?
Lana: ... *stares at him*
Jake: *is silent, continuing to hold her hand and his expression*
Lana: How long have you worried about this?
Jake: Since not too soon after you were cleared of all murder charges.
Lana: *tugs her hand gently free. She speaks calmly* Does it ultimately matter, Jake?
Jake: ....
Jake: It'll matter to me when I see 'im hang.
Lana: Because of him--because of what I was willing to do for Ema, I confessed to a capital offense. I helped condemn dozens of potentially--no, even almost certainly innocent people. I would have willingly agreed to anything he asked. *her eyes drift to the dining table's edge* But no, he never did.
Jake: *stares at her for another quiet moment* Never did. *sits back in his chair, rubbing between his brows* That's one load off my mind for good...
Lana: *doesn't reply for a great many moments--when she finally does, it's simply:* We should get going.
Jake: All right. *rises calmly and puts the fliers in a neat stack before moving to the door*
Lana: *stands, heading over to the front door to slip into her jacket*
~~~
Lana: *Early summer, 2015. It's evening at the police department, and though the sun has set some time ago, it's still mostly light enough to see outside. The elevator opens up on the fifteenth floor of the building and Lana walks out, a thin file folder tucked under one arm. She knocks at the door of the sole office on the level, though that is merely a formality; it's unlocked, the person inside already informed of her arrival. She doesn't wait for a response before she turns the handle and steps in*
Gant: *Damon Gant is seated at his tremendous desk, apparently doing some paperwork. He adds his signature to the bottom of some form or other with big, looping letters before he even looks up* Lana! I didn't hear you come in! *he sets down his pen and shakes his hand as if to work out a cramp, smiling wide and feigning surprise* To what do I owe the pleasure?
Lana: *doesn't challenge him on any of this as she steps towards his desk--instead, she takes the folder into her hands and offers it forward* The items for the Dover case--the receipts that were to be added to the evidence list... I looked them over this afternoon.
Gant: I should hope so, unless you intended that the man should be prosecuted by ear! Ho ho ho! *he reaches out and takes the folder from her, opening it and leafing through it, still grinning* I assume everything is in order?
Lana: *hesitates at that, glancing off to the side as she considers how to phrase her answer* ...No. While they do place the suspect at the scene of the crime immediately before it occurred, there's no record in Dover's bank statements that any transaction was ever made. *her eyes drift back over to the Chief of Police* And yet the receipt states he paid using his debit card.
Gant: You don't say... *takes out the receipt in question, the key piece of evidence that ties Dover to the case, and pulls his glasses down as he looks at it up close. He takes out Dover's bank statement and repeats this, looking between them for a moment* Hm! *he places the items back in the folder and holds it out to Lana with a smile - not a grin, a smile* Everything seems to be in order.
Lana: *doesn't reach for the folder, though his smile has reduced her voice to a quiet murmur* Damon--this man is almost certainly innocent. I can't do this. *and quickly* I don't think any of my prosecutors would be able to ensure a conviction.
Gant: *his smile falls away into an almost childish look of surprise - feigned, reproachful* Oh? Who's defending the boy?
Lana: Marvin Grossberg. Though I don't think it matters who takes the case.
Gant: Grossie, you say. *pulls idly at the tuft of hair at the front of his distinctive bolt* I suppose I could call in a favor with Freddie, but ... *grins, rises, and steps around the desk, to stand in front of Lana. Instead of handing the folder to her he whaps her on the chest with it to indicate she should take it. All smiles* I don't think it will be necessary.
Lana: *flinches--she still doesn't reach for the folder, however* What if the discrepancy is noticed?
Gant: *reaches down and takes one of her hands in his, placing it against the folder. Then he leans over, so far it's nearly stooping, to put himself at eye level with her. He looks at her over the rims of his glasses* I'll contact the bank, and they will provide you with a corrected copy of his account statement first thing in the morning. You will get your conviction.
Lana: *her voice is firm, but she can't bring herself to meet his eyes--she keeps her head tilted down* I can't do this.
Gant: *reaches up with his free hand and lightly turns her face by the chin, so she is looking at him. He smiles, close-lipped and grandfatherly* Yes. You can. *then, confident she won't let the file drop, he lets go of her and turns back to his desk, walking back to his chair* Why, I bet you won't even need a day! Ho ho ho ho ho!
Lana: *and it's true, she keeps tight hold of the item thereafter* ...We could have the trial delayed a few days and step up the investigation. Surely there is another way. *there's a faintly pleading tone in her voice, though it's apparent she's trying to keep it even, calm*
Gant: *seats himself and picks his pen back up. He bends over his next sheet of paperwork, and when he looks up at her he looks surprised to still see her there* You should run along now, Lana. Lots of preparations for the trial tomorrow. *taps his pen on the wood of his desk* And your sister is bound to be wondering where you are.
Lana: *the folder quivers in her hands*
Lana: Yes, I... suppose she would. *glances to the door, then turns fully toward it* ...I'll take my leave.
Gant: *smiles* Don't let the door hit you where... how did that one go? Ah, I'll ask ol' Udgey, we'll come up with a new one. Ho ho ho ho ho ho! *claps his hands together, amused at his own forgetfulness*
Lana: *without comment, she steps to the door in as expedient a walk as possible*
Gant: *stops laughing, but does not lose his jovial tone* Ah-ah-ah! One more thing, before you go. Would you come over here, please?
Lana: ...? *stops and walks over to the left side of his desk, carrying herself rather rigidly* ...Yes?
Gant: *he's still smiling, but now his eyes are watching her carefully* Put your hands on the desk. Palms flat.
Lana: *whatever color is there drains from her face. But without questioning, she sets the folder down on the corner of the desk and does as ordered. She directs her eyes downward, to the edge of the wooden surface*
Gant: Slam them down.
Lana: *hesitates, confusion shifting through her features. She raises her hands and brings them down palms flat against the wooden surface-- it makes a loud thudding noise that echoes throughout the room*
Gant: *the smile falls away* Like you mean it.
Lana: *braces herself and slams down her hands rigidly again-forcefully. The resulting sound is louder this time, reverberating throughout the large office. The desk, steady as it is, shakes from the impact*
Gant: *his face lights up* Perfect! Worthy of Worthy himself. *he does not laugh at that - but he does chuckle as he turns back to his paperwork* Do it just like that when you finish him off tomorrow. Goodnight, Lana.
Lana: .......
Lana: *stands up straight--her cheeks burn tellingly, and she can't feel her hands smart as she picks the folder up again, though it takes her two attempts to properly do so. With a wavering "Goodnight" she turns to the doorway, departing as quick as she possibly can*
[[I know that part]]
((We were trying to catch a man called Joe Darke...))
[[yes I know]]
((Did you know that we called him in for questioning and that he did not turn himself in))
[[WHAT]]
[[then Gant didn't need to kill Neil at all...!!]]
Lana: *it's a rather rainy morning in late February, 2022. Lana is in the kitchen, drying off her hands on a dishtowel after having rinsed off the breakfast plates. She glances to her watch after she's done, noting the time* Jake? We should get going.
Jake: *is sitting at the dining table, idly looking through some fliers*Already? A tad early for that, don't you think?
Lana: There might be traffic--and I'm not sure how complex getting clearance for the both of us will be. *walks over to the dining room area, managing a rather dry smile* Besides--it's not the sort of thing one should show up late to.
Jake: Eager to show up bright 'n' early for the show, huh? *looks up, a small smirk on his features*
Lana: *shakes her head* No, not particularly. But it's the last loose thread of it all, isn't it?
Jake: Rinsin' out the barrel, so to speak. *stares at her for a couple of beats -* How you holdin' up?
Lana: Me? I'm fine. *gently* This event isn't any more significant for me than it is for you, I'd imagine.
Jake: You could say that, I suppose. *pauses again, his face neutral; this isn't a topic they normally breach* But the scar he left on you ain't exactly the same as the one he left on me.
Lana: Not exactly the same. *glances down* You were hurt far more, weren't you? Or at least, I would say so.
Jake: Hurt of a different sort. The two are like apples and oranges. *looking toward her, carefully* ...We never did open this can o' worms, did we?
Lana: ...Is there something left to open? *glances down at her watch and then to the door, before she looks at him again*
Jake: You tell me. *smoothes back his hair with his palm* This chapter's closin' today -- may as well air out the past one last time before puttin' it to rest forever.
Lana: Very well-- *takes the seat beside him, resting a hand on the table* Is there something in particular you want to know? Or shall I detail it from the beginning?
Jake: *thinks on this for a moment, glancing down at the table* Hearin' the tale from the beginning in your own words may do it.
Lana: *is quiet for a moment as she considers*
Lana: When I went into the office that night and saw Ema and Darke unconscious--and Neil... there like that... I panicked. *pauses* I don't think we discussed it at any length during the trial, but I suppose it goes without saying that Damon had arranged the scene so that it was more... incriminating. Ema couldn't have fallen quite like that, when she fainted.
Lana: The first thing I saw was the body. I took a photograph; it was my first instinct. As it became more and more clear to me what happened-when I saw Ema there like that and found the broken jar... I tried to wipe the bloodstains away. *shakes her head* I don't know why; I wasn't thinking clearly. Ema was still unconscious, and I couldn't wake her.
Lana: Gant came in about five minutes after I arrived I think, I'm not entirely sure. *shuts her eyes* I was the one who asked him, of course-to help in any possible way. He asked if I knew what that would entail--I did. And we had to hurry. I forgot whose suggestion it was, to move everything across the room...
Lana: *pauses* I hated myself for the decision, even then. But you can live with that self-loathing to some degree-especially if you cling to the reasons you chose it.
Jake: *gently takes her hand with both of his* I hear you, bambina. Don't go beating your head in over this. He knew what he was doing the entire time, didn't he?
Lana: *frowns slightly at the touch, but doesn't pull her hand away* Right--I know. No, I don't let myself get hung up on that any longer. *runs her thumb lightly against the back of his hand, in thought*
Lana: He didn't mention any stipulations at first, but I knew I was indebted to him. *laughs slightly, quietly* I was so grateful, then. That he could go so far--to even turn against everything he honored and upheld for his partner...
Lana: After everything was done and over with, I called for help and then carried Ema aside. *glances at Jake* It was only around then that it really struck me, how you would take it all. And what you would think, if you knew the truth... But I don't need to elaborate on that part, do I?
Jake: *keeps looking at her, completely serious* So from that day on, you couldn't go against his word.
Lana: *meets his eyes* Correct. Damon always had a way of making it very clear, without directly threatening--but the implication was there. *hesitates* There were only a few times I needed a reminder: the first time outside of SL-9 he asked me to submit a piece of evidence I knew was planted, for instance. ...I caught the hint pretty quickly.
Jake: *grips her hand, seemingly a bit unnerved by her words* I recall you two were like hand and glove back in those days. Even after February 19th, after you were promoted...you were still a team.
Lana: The dynamics changed slowly at first, but they did nonetheless--until I really was merely following orders. Did it seem that way, at all? Or did we seem so very unified from the outside?
Jake: Hard to say...those days are all tired memories now, and they get older and more faded with time. *averting his eyes* I tried not to pay much mind to you 'n' Gant's relationship, specifically. You were still a team -- that, I heard through the grapevine.
Lana: *catches him glancing off, and shakes her head slightly* What you must have thought... Well. We "cooperated" together through those two years. There was no need to tamper with every single trial, but you've read how many there were in total. It was quite the complex matter to sort out, afterward.
Jake: I'll hand it to the both of you: you kept the lid airtight on that one. There were rumours of tampering blowin' about, but that's all they were -- rumours. *glancing back at her* I didn't want to believe them, but I couldn't afford to give room for benefit of doubt.
Lana: I don't blame you. If I were in your shoes-- *laughs slightly* I might have gone Angel's route.
Jake: *rubs her fingers and gives a wry smile at that, but it soon falters* Bambina, there's somethin' I've been meaning to ask you in regards to those two years...but I wasn't sure when would be an appropriate occasion.
Lana: And you've waited till now? *studies his features carefully, then glances off again* ...I should hope we're past the point of keeping things from each other.
Jake: Asking you this ain't so simple. *clearly, considering every word* After your trial, after it all came to light -- Many moons, I wondered...
Jake: Did he ever touch you, Lana?
Lana: ... *stares at him*
Jake: *is silent, continuing to hold her hand and his expression*
Lana: How long have you worried about this?
Jake: Since not too soon after you were cleared of all murder charges.
Lana: *tugs her hand gently free. She speaks calmly* Does it ultimately matter, Jake?
Jake: ....
Jake: It'll matter to me when I see 'im hang.
Lana: Because of him--because of what I was willing to do for Ema, I confessed to a capital offense. I helped condemn dozens of potentially--no, even almost certainly innocent people. I would have willingly agreed to anything he asked. *her eyes drift to the dining table's edge* But no, he never did.
Jake: *stares at her for another quiet moment* Never did. *sits back in his chair, rubbing between his brows* That's one load off my mind for good...
Lana: *doesn't reply for a great many moments--when she finally does, it's simply:* We should get going.
Jake: All right. *rises calmly and puts the fliers in a neat stack before moving to the door*
Lana: *stands, heading over to the front door to slip into her jacket*
~~~
Lana: *Early summer, 2015. It's evening at the police department, and though the sun has set some time ago, it's still mostly light enough to see outside. The elevator opens up on the fifteenth floor of the building and Lana walks out, a thin file folder tucked under one arm. She knocks at the door of the sole office on the level, though that is merely a formality; it's unlocked, the person inside already informed of her arrival. She doesn't wait for a response before she turns the handle and steps in*
Gant: *Damon Gant is seated at his tremendous desk, apparently doing some paperwork. He adds his signature to the bottom of some form or other with big, looping letters before he even looks up* Lana! I didn't hear you come in! *he sets down his pen and shakes his hand as if to work out a cramp, smiling wide and feigning surprise* To what do I owe the pleasure?
Lana: *doesn't challenge him on any of this as she steps towards his desk--instead, she takes the folder into her hands and offers it forward* The items for the Dover case--the receipts that were to be added to the evidence list... I looked them over this afternoon.
Gant: I should hope so, unless you intended that the man should be prosecuted by ear! Ho ho ho! *he reaches out and takes the folder from her, opening it and leafing through it, still grinning* I assume everything is in order?
Lana: *hesitates at that, glancing off to the side as she considers how to phrase her answer* ...No. While they do place the suspect at the scene of the crime immediately before it occurred, there's no record in Dover's bank statements that any transaction was ever made. *her eyes drift back over to the Chief of Police* And yet the receipt states he paid using his debit card.
Gant: You don't say... *takes out the receipt in question, the key piece of evidence that ties Dover to the case, and pulls his glasses down as he looks at it up close. He takes out Dover's bank statement and repeats this, looking between them for a moment* Hm! *he places the items back in the folder and holds it out to Lana with a smile - not a grin, a smile* Everything seems to be in order.
Lana: *doesn't reach for the folder, though his smile has reduced her voice to a quiet murmur* Damon--this man is almost certainly innocent. I can't do this. *and quickly* I don't think any of my prosecutors would be able to ensure a conviction.
Gant: *his smile falls away into an almost childish look of surprise - feigned, reproachful* Oh? Who's defending the boy?
Lana: Marvin Grossberg. Though I don't think it matters who takes the case.
Gant: Grossie, you say. *pulls idly at the tuft of hair at the front of his distinctive bolt* I suppose I could call in a favor with Freddie, but ... *grins, rises, and steps around the desk, to stand in front of Lana. Instead of handing the folder to her he whaps her on the chest with it to indicate she should take it. All smiles* I don't think it will be necessary.
Lana: *flinches--she still doesn't reach for the folder, however* What if the discrepancy is noticed?
Gant: *reaches down and takes one of her hands in his, placing it against the folder. Then he leans over, so far it's nearly stooping, to put himself at eye level with her. He looks at her over the rims of his glasses* I'll contact the bank, and they will provide you with a corrected copy of his account statement first thing in the morning. You will get your conviction.
Lana: *her voice is firm, but she can't bring herself to meet his eyes--she keeps her head tilted down* I can't do this.
Gant: *reaches up with his free hand and lightly turns her face by the chin, so she is looking at him. He smiles, close-lipped and grandfatherly* Yes. You can. *then, confident she won't let the file drop, he lets go of her and turns back to his desk, walking back to his chair* Why, I bet you won't even need a day! Ho ho ho ho ho!
Lana: *and it's true, she keeps tight hold of the item thereafter* ...We could have the trial delayed a few days and step up the investigation. Surely there is another way. *there's a faintly pleading tone in her voice, though it's apparent she's trying to keep it even, calm*
Gant: *seats himself and picks his pen back up. He bends over his next sheet of paperwork, and when he looks up at her he looks surprised to still see her there* You should run along now, Lana. Lots of preparations for the trial tomorrow. *taps his pen on the wood of his desk* And your sister is bound to be wondering where you are.
Lana: *the folder quivers in her hands*
Lana: Yes, I... suppose she would. *glances to the door, then turns fully toward it* ...I'll take my leave.
Gant: *smiles* Don't let the door hit you where... how did that one go? Ah, I'll ask ol' Udgey, we'll come up with a new one. Ho ho ho ho ho ho! *claps his hands together, amused at his own forgetfulness*
Lana: *without comment, she steps to the door in as expedient a walk as possible*
Gant: *stops laughing, but does not lose his jovial tone* Ah-ah-ah! One more thing, before you go. Would you come over here, please?
Lana: ...? *stops and walks over to the left side of his desk, carrying herself rather rigidly* ...Yes?
Gant: *he's still smiling, but now his eyes are watching her carefully* Put your hands on the desk. Palms flat.
Lana: *whatever color is there drains from her face. But without questioning, she sets the folder down on the corner of the desk and does as ordered. She directs her eyes downward, to the edge of the wooden surface*
Gant: Slam them down.
Lana: *hesitates, confusion shifting through her features. She raises her hands and brings them down palms flat against the wooden surface-- it makes a loud thudding noise that echoes throughout the room*
Gant: *the smile falls away* Like you mean it.
Lana: *braces herself and slams down her hands rigidly again-forcefully. The resulting sound is louder this time, reverberating throughout the large office. The desk, steady as it is, shakes from the impact*
Gant: *his face lights up* Perfect! Worthy of Worthy himself. *he does not laugh at that - but he does chuckle as he turns back to his paperwork* Do it just like that when you finish him off tomorrow. Goodnight, Lana.
Lana: .......
Lana: *stands up straight--her cheeks burn tellingly, and she can't feel her hands smart as she picks the folder up again, though it takes her two attempts to properly do so. With a wavering "Goodnight" she turns to the doorway, departing as quick as she possibly can*