Back Step Business Lunch


minea_icon.gif murdoch_icon.gif

Scene Title Back Step Business Lunch
Synopsis Murdoch and Minea talk shop, Kitty, Robin Hood and enjoy lunch.
Date June 2, 2009

Crown Heights Police Station

Nearly a third of New York's finest are stationed in North Brooklyn. Despite that, the precinct in Crown Heights is a gritty place. During peak hours, the lobby is packed with whores, pimps, pushers, drug dealers, and every other sort imaginable. The reception desk is protected by a wall of impact-resistant glass set with a grille for communication and a slot for paperwork. One side of the room is lined with benches, the other with doors leading to offices and interrogation rooms.

Things have gone to hell rather neatly in a handbasket as of late. With his partner MIA, leaving only a pair of specs and his share of the paperwork to mark his passage, Murdoch has had all sorts of reasons to wish that officers hadn't started getting murdered or close to it, and not all of these reasons are fantastically charitable. He has done a tour of duty, jumping from office to office, trying to keep tabs on all the relevant Evolved crime, and there is a fair share to go around. More, if you asked Murdoch, though none have. So he sits at a desk he has commandeered and shifts through cases, trying to do the police equivalent of bureaucratic triage. His tie, usually so immaculate, is loosened, and the top button of his shirt undone. Scandal!

A Styrofoam container suddenly makes an appearance from over his shoulder, and down in front of him. Followed quickly by a huge starbucks cup replete with creamer sand sugars for all it's adjsutmental needs. "You'd almost think you were on Vacation, what with the loose tie there Murdoch" There's a brief pause of the feminine hand as it seem to brush some invisible lint off his sleeve before giving his shoulder a squeeze before Minea comes into view. She's got a grim smile on her face. "Heard the news as I was coming in. Lost one cop, another's in the hospital"

Murdoch looks up in surprise, and cannot help but smile as well, with little or no grimness, until Minea sees fit to remind him why he was feeling so poor the moment before she distracted him. He taps the side of his nose, "When it rains, as they say," he says, "I just wish it didn't have to rain bullets. I also wish I could allow myself to be properly upset and disturbed by all this. But this," he taps his loose tie knot, "Is about as close as I'm able to get to unprofessional right now. Can't afford to be upset. Oh well… there's always a post-case binge to look forward to." All wryness. "For all that it's a pleasure to see you, though, with my luck, this will be a consummately professional visit, no?"

"Not entirely. I thought I'd hit you up with some questions over lunch and figuring that I might not get you away from your desk, I am bribing you with club sandwiches from a deli and some coffee. Real turkey on the club, by the by. Wouldn't' have it any other way" She does have standard. Sinking down into a seat proper, Minea's bringing up her own Styrofoam container and starbucks cup with lipstick on the rim in some neutral shade. "How you been doing beside that? Have you seen Kitty?" But Kitty she means Felix. That's the only person she calls Kitty. "Don't tell him I used that name for him. He'll cap my knee's"

Murdoch's face has the sort of expression that ought to make his pallor go grey. "Officer Ivanov?" he says, "No. May be only he knows where he is. He went missing, just this morning. Or, rather, we've decided he's been missing all this time. Death is a fickle creature, as we've been finding. Rather than give into its game, I will continue to stick to 'missing' and ignore the 'presume dead'. It is, after all, bad science to presume anything," he dips his head, "But yes, I would love to take lunch with you."

"By my last estimate, Kitty has at least 4 more lives left. He'll surface. Last time he disappeared, he was with me. Ask him about Meerkat Manor next time you see him. He was in looooove with Flower" She hopes that jpking with him will make the older man ease up a bit. Though there's a mental memo being taken to look into it. "He go to Staten again?"

"Where else?" Murdoch comment, dryly, though Minea's reassurance seems to have at least some palliative effect. He pulls himself to a stand, "Lets get into clearer air. It smells of desperation in here."

"You carry the food, I got the drinks" She motions for him to take the white cartons while she snaps up the drinks and their accouterments. "Came down to ask if you knew if the NYPD had anymore significant reports about Robin Hood. Whether he's been making waves lately or not" Waiting till he's ready to go, she lets the officer lead the way.

Murdoch takes up the cartons, blazing a trail out towards the front steps, into the summer evening. "Should enjoy the weather while we have it," he says, "It's either getting stormy or scorching soon." Talking about the weather? Really? He sets himself down on a stone step, by the edge of the walk, out of the way of foot traffic. He motions for Minea to join him. "Remind me about that case? I have a somewhat narrow view of things, being in SCOUT and all."

There's another touch of his arm by the brunette as she settles down beside him, requisite 6 inches between a boy and girl enforced. "Technopath who went through taking money from everyone over a certain amount and giving it to the poor, then went gloating about it onto every internet forums that he could do it to" His drink handed over, she fetches her sandwhich.

Murdoch lifts a brow, "And how do we know this gloating is the perp? IP address?" Technical term! Obviously Murdoch's been doing his research. "I can't imagine he, or she, would be so stupid as to pin him or herself down like that. We have tracking measures, no?" he takes up his coffee, lifting it in thanks, "I rather hope it /is/ the perp. Make him easier to catch."

"Best we've been able to ascertain, Technopaths, Murdoch, don't have IP's. Unless they have some sort of .. mental signature yes?"She points out to him.

"Well, it rather depends on the nature of the coupling, doesn't it?" Murdoch offers, "Whether or not they are a transmitted or receiver them self, or need an entry point. In any case, they must have passed through… well… whatever linked the er…" he wrinkles his nose, "You see, my knowledge is coming up short here. Do we have any evidence of how the technopath made entry?"

"None. Only good one we know is refusing to Co-operate. So they dumped it down to me since I'm so charming. That and, I recently got Evo'd and they, I think, still don't know whether I'm up to snuff quite yet" The top of her sandwich container is flipped open and a quarter of the club is fished out. "Thought i'd see if he'd surfaced and anyone here had seen him. I know before that he transmitted wirelessly" She knows a great many other things but nothing that she can't tell because it came from Liz. whether it cam officially or not is questionable.
"Evo'd?" Murdoch echoes, "What does that mean in the HomSec parlance?"

"Means an evolved smacked me with their ability in some fashion. In working with them, I've been evo'd… twice? Twice. First was some girl who gives off psychoactive toxin through her skin. Second. Some Telepath didn't like me and left me dreaming about a guy named Roberto on a beach in france." Minea shrugs her shoulder. "Got a few OCD's thanks to getting patched up. I'm starting to really hate.. people who mess with minds"

Murdoch arches a brow at this last, trying not to smile and only just failing, "Well, at least the telepath had the manners to give you a pleasant dream, no? Still… Roberto, beach, France? Sounds more like a romance novel than a convincing illusion," he sets the carton on his knee, opens it, has, "See… a sandwich this fine… that'd be a way to catch me," he lifts the club to his mouth, takes a bite, chews, swallows, has once more, "This is a dream I'd never doubt," he dips his head, "But in all seriousness… it is a frightening idea, that someone can enter your head. Of course, it must be frightening for a telepath too. You never know what you'll find inside someone's skull."

"Downright fucking scary, and no, believable to me. There was this guy, in cannes, when I lived there. Roberto. Cabana bo" She looks over at Murdoch, a suppressed grin. "What can I say, I liked them young in france. They're very cocky and pay attention to little details"

Murdoch gives a low chuckle, "I shall take you on your word there," he says, taking another bite, savoring it, "God… thank you for this. I'd gotten past that point in hungry where you forget you're hungry and just feel bad," he sets the sandwich down and takes a drink of coffee, "Well… if this individual is a receiver, then when he turns on his power, likely one could spot him. Specially if it's powerful. Of course, trying to get enough open digital ears in this city would be next to impossible. But someone this cocky… bet he did it from somewhere meaningful. Like the steps of the places he hit, or from his own home."

"what if they could exist in the net though?" Minea offers up. "What if they could upload their.. being, into the net, this physical stream of Data and just swim through it and do it that way? How do you catch them then? And your welcome. I've eaten alone too much lately, needed company"

"You'd have to talk to someone more up to date than I to figure that one out," Murdoch says, "But I imagine that they still would want to call a body home. And if we can find that body, wherever it is, we could catch the perp when they came back to roost."

'So he has to have a body somewhere" Minea shrugs. "Might be time to start paying the registered telepaths in the area a visit and see if they got anything huh?" Another quarter of her sandwich is consumed, a dollop of mayo on her thumb is sucked off. 'Want me to pull strings and see if I can find Kitty?"

"I do rather miss having someone to share the workload with," Murdoch comments, making a clear attempt to stick with the 'missing, presumed alive' stance he's adopted. "Dig him up and tell him what a pain this has been for me, would you? I want him feeling very, very guilty." Better guilty than dead, right? "Is this Robin Hood business of high import? I can ask my department to get me to play Sheriff of Nottingham if you'd like. That is, if I'm the man for the job."

'Know what a Faraday cage is Murdoch?" Minea asks, curious. This might very well be the question that makes or breaks whether she asks Len ot bring him in.

Murdoch frowns, "Isn't that a sort of… conductive shield? I heard that old, metal cars would serve as Faraday cages, which is why it was safe to be in one during a lightning storm, so long as you stayed inside it."

"Your on the right track. They make boxes too, shield from any signals, EMF, everything, inside. Shut the door, nothing comes in. More importantly. Nothing goes out" She looks over at Murdoch.

"How would one implement this effectively in the case we're discussing?" Murdoch inquires, "Locate his consciousness and cage wherever those rogue charges are hanging about? We'd have to really get the drop on him. Patrol cars move fast, but not faster than electrons."

"Was thinking that basically, frankly, we tempts him into it when he's out of his body, then.. wait. I don't know. It's a sound theory. Trap him. I don't know if he can putz around wirelessly like another that I know, I know he has to physically touch something. That's been my best guess.

"What do we think will lure him?" Murdoch asks, "If he's a glory hound, then maybe a very public challenge will work. Have some company declare to their stockholders and the nation that new security countermeasures will make such an incident impossible, dare him to try, trap him when he slips inside?"

"We're on the same page there Murdoch. That was my thought. mind you, we'll have a bunch of people trying it out, just have to sort who he is. From there…" Be a matter of finding his body. If he had a body. The last quarter of her sandwich is done, napkin taken up to dab at the corners of her mouth.

"Are there any house technopaths that could go in and talk to him when and if we catch him?" Murdoch says, "I don't relish risking any agents, but I'm sure the perp would rather be found and jailed than be stuck in his projected form."

"I'll make a note of that and ask my boss. All comes down to my boss. But, i'm pretty sure we have someone who can confirm that it's him in there and not some little rinky dink hacker who get lucky" The napkin is folded into squares three times before tossing it into her container. She reaches out again to just brush her fingertips against his sleeve before pulling her hand back.

Murdoch polishes off his sandwich with a efficiency that borders on military. Lunch breaks are often very quick when you're on duty. He lifts his coffee, washes his food down, then uses his own napkin to daub the corners of his mouth in an incongruously delicate fashion. "Would that I could find his body first. I'm more useful when dealing with corporeal foes."

"How many.. technopaths could there really be in the city?" She'd have to find out what the estimate would be, by the Company standards. "Meh, I'll figure it out. Why I have a partner. I should get going, since we're done our lunch. On Homeland dime even. I'll hit you up with details if my boss is keen to let you in. I wouldn't hold my breath though. I'll see about setting the hounds on Kitty as well. Kick his mangey ass back to you"

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