you'll speak in secret codes that he has never known
[OOC: Harry mentioned is osborn_heir and Bruce mentioned is manorly_wayne. Takes place after this.]
He remembered Phuket. In the middle of the questioning, the media frenzy, the snowstorm, everything - he kept his mind on a vacation years ago in Thailand. Jack had hoped to never again be a constant face on the news. Being one of only six survivors of a plane crash did enough of that on it's own. In hindsight, he realized that the hope was naive at best. While rubbing elbows with Harry Osborn was fruitful for a rewarding mentor and mentee relationship, it hardly repelled the limelight that the young man tended to attract.
The weekend in Switzerland was supposed to be a party for Harry in celebration of his med school acceptance. Jack hadn't hesitated in accepting the invitation to go and join a congratulatory group for a ski trip. The exuberance of the weekend seemed to have left before he ever arrived to the chalet.
Now Vesper Fairchild was dead with Bruce Wayne as the prime murder suspect. While he knew little about Vesper, Jack had stayed stayed at the same chalet as Bruce for Harry's party.
Which brought him back to Phuket. It was there where he'd learned to play poker, not just the rules of the game, but how to read faces and control his own. It was no surprise that the ADA was questioning all who had been near Bruce Wayne before the murder. The truth was that Jack one step away from a stranger to the man. He had never shared him any ill will, but was not going to pretend that he was anywhere near the "Billionaire Boys Club" circle. If anything, he was grateful to Wayne who had given him a job at the Wayne Clinic during Harry's MCAT studies.
Aside from a squint of the eye due to the florescent lights, Jack kept his face blank. He focused on one point of the ADA's face, keeping eye contact while leaning back in his chair as if he had nothing to worry about. The coffee they had given him tasted cheap, but it was hot and helped him stay alert. He couldn't ask for much more.
"So you were in the employ of Mr. Wayne prior to the incident, yes?"
"I worked at the Wayne Clinic in Gotham, if that's what you mean."
"Then he was your boss."
"Employer, yes."
"Did you have any contact with him during that time?"
"No, I hadn't met him."
"You two share a powerful friend, I find that hard to believe."
Jack furrowed his brows, tilting his head slightly to the side. "I'm sorry, I'm not too familiar with how this works, but was that a question?"
"When was the first time you met Bruce Wayne face to face?" The ADA asked the question much more pointedly than he had before.
"At Harry Osborn's party."
"How were his spirits?"
On and on the questioning went. If his eyelids dropped by a fraction Jack could see himself at another table, cards whipping across the table by an expert hand. He did his best to focus, and the steady ticking of the clock on the wall kept him from having too far of a wandering thought.
At this point Jack had nothing to bluff, which the ADA seemed to realize, but didn't keep him from leaving any potential rock unturned. Regardless of this, by the end of the first hour he grew much more nervous than he had been at the start of his interrogation. During a pause between questions, Jack opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. Sensing voluntary information, the ADA quickly asked "Yes, Dr. Shephard?" with an intrigued upward tilt of the chin.
"Excuse me, but could I get some more coffee?"
The ADA glanced down from Jack's face to the styrofoam cup in his hand. "Certainly."
He remembered Phuket. In the middle of the questioning, the media frenzy, the snowstorm, everything - he kept his mind on a vacation years ago in Thailand. Jack had hoped to never again be a constant face on the news. Being one of only six survivors of a plane crash did enough of that on it's own. In hindsight, he realized that the hope was naive at best. While rubbing elbows with Harry Osborn was fruitful for a rewarding mentor and mentee relationship, it hardly repelled the limelight that the young man tended to attract.
The weekend in Switzerland was supposed to be a party for Harry in celebration of his med school acceptance. Jack hadn't hesitated in accepting the invitation to go and join a congratulatory group for a ski trip. The exuberance of the weekend seemed to have left before he ever arrived to the chalet.
Now Vesper Fairchild was dead with Bruce Wayne as the prime murder suspect. While he knew little about Vesper, Jack had stayed stayed at the same chalet as Bruce for Harry's party.
Which brought him back to Phuket. It was there where he'd learned to play poker, not just the rules of the game, but how to read faces and control his own. It was no surprise that the ADA was questioning all who had been near Bruce Wayne before the murder. The truth was that Jack one step away from a stranger to the man. He had never shared him any ill will, but was not going to pretend that he was anywhere near the "Billionaire Boys Club" circle. If anything, he was grateful to Wayne who had given him a job at the Wayne Clinic during Harry's MCAT studies.
Aside from a squint of the eye due to the florescent lights, Jack kept his face blank. He focused on one point of the ADA's face, keeping eye contact while leaning back in his chair as if he had nothing to worry about. The coffee they had given him tasted cheap, but it was hot and helped him stay alert. He couldn't ask for much more.
"So you were in the employ of Mr. Wayne prior to the incident, yes?"
"I worked at the Wayne Clinic in Gotham, if that's what you mean."
"Then he was your boss."
"Employer, yes."
"Did you have any contact with him during that time?"
"No, I hadn't met him."
"You two share a powerful friend, I find that hard to believe."
Jack furrowed his brows, tilting his head slightly to the side. "I'm sorry, I'm not too familiar with how this works, but was that a question?"
"When was the first time you met Bruce Wayne face to face?" The ADA asked the question much more pointedly than he had before.
"At Harry Osborn's party."
"How were his spirits?"
On and on the questioning went. If his eyelids dropped by a fraction Jack could see himself at another table, cards whipping across the table by an expert hand. He did his best to focus, and the steady ticking of the clock on the wall kept him from having too far of a wandering thought.
At this point Jack had nothing to bluff, which the ADA seemed to realize, but didn't keep him from leaving any potential rock unturned. Regardless of this, by the end of the first hour he grew much more nervous than he had been at the start of his interrogation. During a pause between questions, Jack opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. Sensing voluntary information, the ADA quickly asked "Yes, Dr. Shephard?" with an intrigued upward tilt of the chin.
"Excuse me, but could I get some more coffee?"
The ADA glanced down from Jack's face to the styrofoam cup in his hand. "Certainly."