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Scene Title | Friar Lawrence |
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Synopsis | Two phone calls and a pair of ex-lovers, connected through a felon. |
Date | August 8, 2009 |
It's in the late afternoon that Cardinal leans back in his chair, behind a table set up in the depths of a long-abandoned - but rarely empty - library, his feet kicking up on the table as he finally gets around to fulfilling a favor. A phone's picked up, the contact list scrolled through and the word 'Locos' is clicked on. Ring.
Answering the phone without much noise in the background except a TV, Mortimer speaks in a fairly more mellow than usual tone. "Hello?" is the only thing he says, no witty banter or creepiness.
"Mortimer." A curious note to the man's voice on the other side of the phone, "Got word that you might be dead… guess that wasn't the case. This is Cardinal."
"You're that person I used to think was a reaper." Mortimer idly notes as if he's referring to himself as a different person. "I'm alive, some old man stole my ability. I didn't know what taking it away really meant. I hear he's dead, so, I don't have to worry about an army of clockwork robots. And on the plus side, I'm apparently sane."
At the mention of the old man, Cardinal hesitates, "…Arthur Petrelli. I killed him." Apparently, his opinion of the man as a Reaper wasn't entirely untrue. After all, it seems he did kill some part of Mortimer… even if it was in another at the time. "So I heard. That your power was… uncomfortable on the psyche. Glad to hear you're alive, though."
"Not saying I did anything, but why would Arthur Petrelli want to thank someone for blowing up Primatech? Just what was that place, other than an Evolved prison?" Mortimer asks, since even if he knew some details, things are a bit… sketchy. "And, after seeing what he can do, I can only imagine how powerful you must be, to have actually killed him. I'm just glad someone that powerful didn't have my ability long enough to go insane."
"I'm not powerful," says Cardinal dryly, "I'm just good at planning… and I had some friends along. As for Petrelli, he was already insane, and getting worse from what I hear. May the sonuvabitch rot in hell." After a moment, he adds, "Primatech was exactly what you thought it was. It was— a front for a group called the Company. They're into keeping tabs on the Evolved, have been for years. And they've got more skeletons in their closet than John fucking Gotti."
"Well, I'm not Evolved anymore, and a powerful friend of mine is going to help me go legit. Most of my men are dead, I don't have any influence, and while I still know how to fight, I can barely fire a gun without my ability. So, I can't help you or anyone else." Mortimer explains the truths he's come to accept, though doesn't seem to sound all that bitter about it. Being sane is pretty nice.
"Believe it or not," admits Cardinal, "I'm not calling for help— I was just calling to see if you were still alive. Sure, you were a crazy motherfucker, but you helped me out when I asked. I'm loyal t'those loyal to me. Good luck with going legit. Couldn't do it myself— " A low chuckle, "— but if it's what makes you happy, who'm I to say anything?"
"Thanks, and I'm glad I kept some form of sanity, even if it was a twisted bastard child of honor. And, I could use a favor from you, as long as you don't ask any questions." Mortimer keeps his request polite, not demanding it, just offering if Cardinal feels the need to do it. "Cassidy O'Shea, she's a cop, I think she was getting wrapped up in something involving a murderer. If you can find out as much as you can about what she's doing now, and anything on the murderer, then report it all back to me, consider us even."
A quiet chuckle tumbles past Cardinal's lips. "Cassidy O'Shea," he allows a moment later, "Partnered with some cop named Coren, until recently trying to stop the murders of several young people by a time travelling technopath… they're all dead, so that's case closed. I'm not certain if she's on the serial killer case, but she may be. He's an Evolved, a mind-controller from what little I know of a case."
"Thanks for the information. Doing anything about this is gonna be a lot harder without an ability, so I guess I better put my chess skills to work." Mortimer sounds as if he's standing up from a bed, the sound of the TV suddenly going silent. "It was nice speaking with you, if you learn anything else, feel free to call. I have a job interview now."
"Good luck," Cardinal replies casually, "And if you need any help, give me a call. I'm not thrilled about this murdering asshole either, but I've got too much on my plate to make it a priority. Still, you got my number, man. Take care."
Click.
One phone call ends. Another begins. Cardinal's thumb taps across the softly-luminous pad of the phone, dialing one Cassidy O'Shea before leaning back in his chair again, unable to keep a hint of amusement from his expression.
Since her partner had returned early that morning, Cassidy was pretty much hanging out at his place talking about his trip and avoiding any talk of Liz and Cassie's bender. When he phone rings she frowns at the screen not recognizing the number right away. "Hold on," She says to Coren as she slides to her feet and flips open her phone. Her voice firm, her cop voice, she moves a few steps away… not that it matters. "O'Shea here."
"Good afternoon, Detective," Cardinal greets casually, "This is the… how'd you put it… 'Library Cutie'?"
That gets a short amused laugh from the detective, "Ah yes.. Liz told you, huh? Well, had you call you something, since I don't exactly know your name." She muses over the phone, memories of the recent conversation. "So, Mr. Cutie, what's up that earned me the honor of your call?" Is that a twist of hope in her gut? Maybe?
A low chuckle stirs on the other end of the line, as the ex-convict observes in amusement, "Plausible deniability, Detective. If you don't know who I am, you won't need to try and arrest me for crimes I may or may not have on my record…" A pause, "Mortimer Jack's alive and well; depowered, quite sane, and he has a job interview this evening."
See, now he knew Mortimer was still alive, because Cassidy knew. He could even bear the whole library cutie thing and the twist of hope in his partner's gut. But to hear another person confirm Mortimer's welfare — the mere idea that that lunatic (despite being quite sane) might be wandering back into his life…. Coren actually lets out an audible groan at that comment, and suddenly wishes he were still in Illinois.
There is silence for a moment as Cassidy gets a wash of relief, eyes rolling skyward in silent thanks. When she finally says something, the relief is there as well, "That's good. That's very very good. Thank you, I really appreciate you checking for me. I owe you." She glances over at her partner briefly when he groans, "He did get depowered? Thank god.. That seemed to be his problem. It made him totally insane.. His father, exploited it. There is a book out there on it." An sigh of relief and she add, "Maybe he can have a normal life now." She bites her lip and asks, "He saw how?"
"Yes." A moment's pause follows, before Cardinal replies evasively, "It was a certain individual that's no longer a factor in anything." To translate from vague-speak, the man (or woman) is probably dead or otherwise permanently incapacitated. "There is— ah— one complication."
"Ah… Gotcha." Cassidy says with a nod of her head, not that Cardinal can see it. Though the other thing makes her red brows drop into a light frown of confusion. Her tone is colored with caution as she asks, "Complication? What…sort of complication?"
The man on the other end of the phone clears his throat, "Well, he asked about you… and, specifically, about a certain serial killer case. He may attempt to get involved— and he has neither his people nor his fucked-up weapons anymore."
"Shit…" Cassidy snaps the word out and quickly says… "Sorry.. sorry." She sighs heavily and turns to look at Coren, knowing he probably caught that going through her head. Just what they needed, now on top of everything, "Yay for the damn media," said with deep sarcasm. She rubs fingers across her forehead, "Okay.. Thanks for that heads up. Looks like I get to try and keep him out of this on top of dealing with this killer."
"I thought you might like the head's up." A dry admission, before Cardinal allows, "For what it's worth, I wish you luck catching that sick sonuvabitch. Let me know if you need any help— off the books, o'course. Talk to you later, Detective."
"Thanks. I think we're going to need all the luck we can get at this point… ah… keep your ear to the ground. Maybe?" A small smile tugs at her lip, "I hate asking.. more.. but if you happen to hear something on the street. Anyhow…" She grins suddenly, her voice laced with barely contained laughter, "..Thank you, Han Solo." With that she clicks her phone closed on her chuckle.
As the phone's hung up, Cardinal regards her with a bemused expression. "Han Solo?" A low chuckle, and he tucks the phone away, "Well, there's that taken care of, then. Now…" His gaze returns to the files and papers scattered over the table, "…what next."