(no subject)
Today, she was clad in a modest black ensemble that gave her plenty of move to room. The hair that was usually long and blonde was today short and black to accentuate her eyeliner-heavy eyes. But she had been told it was an emergency, and after a short briefing she arrived at the house. She held her wand ready in her stronger hand, and held the flat blade of her knife against her other arm. With a sneer in place she rapped gently with the knife, prepared to force entrance.
The door opened, with a slight, if cliché, creak, with no source for the opening apparent. Almost inviting, the way the soft inside air escaped out. Almost worthy of a trap.
Her dark eyes glinted about as she eased into the house. She stepped slowly, and quietly, in order to catch any sound being made.
There were noises, too. The clinking of metal on ceramic, almost steady, the sound of a fire in the hearth. A glow to her right in front of her. And the sound of a very large, very empty house.
Her eyes narrowed as she relaxed her posture slightly, but still remained ever wary. "Hello? Is anyone here?" she called lightly and listened for a response.
The response was silence, and the sound of something being pushed aside, then a voice, a little weak from misuse, and quiet, which belied any threat in his words. "Step into the door way. Slowly."
Wand and knife at the ready she did as the voice asked, her dark eyes flitted around and grew very harsh. "I am Inspector Carter. I'd like to ask you a few questions. Show yourself."
The voice changed pitch, the sneer which must be on the speaker's face evident in the tone. "Turn to your left. And you won't mind if I ask for credentials."
Her wand and her face turned as she sheathed the knife at her hip and brought out said credentials. "First things first. Mind telling me who you are?"
"Vincent Crabbe." The boy had the look of someone just having woken from about a week's worth of sleep, but looked at the papers with a steady eye, his wand in his hand, down in courtesy, but ready to be brought up should the need arise. "What are you doing inside my house?"
Her own wand lowered slightly and she offered him a bit of a smirk. "I've been placed on this case. Your elf made it known there had been a murder here. Since there had been no word from you or Viktor Crabbe in quite some time, the department had felt the need to press forward."
Vince raised a brow and sighed. "There was a death. I wouldn't call it murder as much as an old man's stupidity. I've given the elf the day off. That why you had a knife, then? Didn't realize I was such a threat as all that."
"I was told I would need to force entrance. Forgive the abruptness," she said, looking around a bit. "Would you care to tell me what happened?"
He looked at her, evenly. "I suppose it will come out eventually. He died."
"I had gathered that." She replied, her eyes for a moment becoming a tad bit whimsical before hardening again and came to rest on him. "How did it happen? Were you here at the time?"
"I was here. Sit, Inspector. Have a cup of tea." He gestured to the chair in front of the fire. "We'll be here a while, I think."
"I don't need anything, thank you." She replied evenly, sitting in the offered chair, but remained ever ready. "Would it bothered you terribly if I used a dictaquill to get your statement? I have rather horrid handwriting."
Vince waved a hand dismissively. "Fine." He sat back, putting his wand away and watching for the Inspector to get ready.
She pulled out said dictaquill and parchment. She hummed a bit and watched the words skitter across the page for a moment before rereading them and letting a pleased smile cross her face. "Very well then, proceed."
"It started last summer, actually. But I won't get into that. My father has kept me here, in a room downstairs, for two months, torturing me." He stopped looking at her, as if defying her to refute the fact.
She tilted her head slightly, "Could you be a bit more clear on this? Are we talking curses or just the usual whips and chains route?"
"Yes." And there was gallows humour in the gaze.
Her eyebrows flicked up gently as a smirk crossed her own face. "Ah, I see. It's always been said he was a rather charming man, but... go on."
"How much do you know about my father, Inspector."
"Rumors, mostly. Although I was an underling who was helping to investigate a case that the charges were dropped of later. Care to clear up some speculation for me?"
"Not exactly." He wasn't being funny, either. "He was a Death Eater, and that's all I'll give you." His face hardened, the way anyone's face does when preparing to keep a deep, dark secret.
"I see." Her face still contained a bit of a smirk. "But we're getting off track, Mr. Crabbe."
Vince shrugged. then gestured. "I'm not going into details. He tortured me, I got free, we fought, he's dead." Another shrug. "Should be plenty clear."
"You killed him then?" She asked with a smug look on her face.
"No," he sneered, "a troll got loose."
She sighed, "I'm here for an official statement. Beaurocracy and all that. What happened to the body?"
"It burned in the fire. I had the elf clean it up and put the remains in a safe place."
"Anything else I should know about this conflict?" she asked, gently.
Vince looked at her. "You're asking how I killed him, then?"
"If you think it relevant to the investigation, it would probably be a good idea to include it in your statement, as I'm sure someone will be by later for a sample of the remains."
Vince leaned forward, looking deep into her eyes. "The question is, Inspector... knowing what my father was; and knowing that he was torturing me because I didn't want to become what he was... the question is, does it really matter how he died, so long as the bastard's dead?"
"Not to me. I assure you. I am about ready to stand up and applaud you. But I am here to do my job, Mr Crabbe."
Vince stared for a second, then leaned back and closed his eyes. "He'd tortured me. Used a person I trusted to convince me that my fiancée was being treated likewise... I was about to break when the chain came loose, and we fought. He lost his wand, I got it and used the first curse that came to mind. A curse he spent the entire previous summer teaching me."
"Ah, I see." She said, pausing a moment to look at the quill's progress on the page. "Can I get the name of this other person?"
"No. I've been rather befuddled of late, I can't remember much in the way of names."
A small smirk crossed her face again and she nodded slightly. "Anything else you'd like to get off your chest?"
He opened his mouth to reply, then shook his head slightly. "No. Would like to know if I'll be spending time in Azkaban, of course."
She sighed, moving to the dictaquill and rolling the parchment up. "I can't promise you anything." she said softly. "I will pull hard for you, but... it's really out of my hands. All I can tell you, is this won't look terribly good. It will be your word against a pile of ash, that will give proof of an unforgivable. My suggestion to you is to talk to that other person... once you remember them, that is... get them to give a statement. That would help your case a lot. Hire yourself a good barrister in the meantime."
Vince nodded, silently, and stood. "Good day to you, Inspector."
"And you as well, Mr Crabbe. Believe me when I say I wish you the best of luck."
Vince nodded and brooded, sighing deep in his chest as the Inspector took her leave.