Participants:
Scene Title | Scone? |
---|---|
Synopsis | Cassidy and Coren are assigned their new partners — each other. |
Date | April 13, 2009 |
The New York Police Department Head Quarters is an old stone building, renovated many times over the years. The plaster walls are not as cracked and in need of repair as the various Precinct buildings around the city. The fluorescent lights give the room a rather sterile glow. Old posters, civic reminders, duty rosters and newspaper clippings are tacked up on the walls, rustling every time one of the doors opens. A high, wooden desk sits on the north wall, manned by two clerks, who records all visitors and arrests.
The way out to the street lies to the south, while doors to the offices of the Head Quarters lie to the northwest.
Detective Shelby meanders back to his desk, reading over a report in an open file folder, and finds himself face to face with a basket of baked goods. He quirks a brow and looks to the desk across from his. "Hey Poulin, where'd the basket come from?"
"Beats me," the other detective responds. "They were here when I got back to my desk. Took a blueberry muffin."
"Huh," Coren says as he looks the basket over, setting the file folder down. That's when he spots the note, which he picks up and examines: I know about Muldoon. It's okay. "Abigail," he says to himself quietly, crumpling the note and stuffing it in his pocket.
Hunched over her desk, Detective O'Shea has the phone to her ear, she's been there for a time. "Look.. I just need to talk to your father." Nail tap loudly on her desk, her lips pursed in irritation. "I get that he doesn't want them to know." She shudders to a stop again and brings her hand to her forehead. She sighs and with great restraint sets the phone back on the cradle. "Good bye to you too.." Her tone bland.
Cassidy straightens in her chair and makes a frustrated sound, flipping the folder on her desk closed, but after a moment of staring at it she opens it again. Eyes flick up an it's like she realizes others are there. There is a small twitch to her lip as she sees the basket and the guy hovering over it. "Girlfriend?" She asks as she reaches to pick up the phone again.
"Not even remotely close," Coren says with subtle amusement. He peers back at the report he was reading. How he managed to get stuck with a case from another precinct really baffles him. "Victim," he says grimly before holding out a baked good for Cassidy. "Scone?"
Cassidy eyes the scone with some skepticism as she tucks the receiver between her shoulder and ear. She wrinkles her nose a bit. "I think I'll pass. Thanks though." She eyes the pastry again and then sets the receiver down. She motions him forward when a chuckle. "I have no willpower." She climbs to her feet to meet him half way. "Detective Cassidy O'Shea." She offers politely.
"Doctor Coren Shelby. A pleasure, Detective O'Shea," Coren says as he grabs another scone for himself, handing the other one off. "Willpower is overrated these days, take my word on it. If we don't indulge every now and again, we'll die miserable and alone." He takes a bite of his scone and his eyebrows quirk slightly. "My mum used to make scones that tasted almost exactly like these. And here I thought it was a lost art; the ones I usually get in this city are so dry, I imagine it's like trying to swallow insulation."
Taking the scone, Cassidy pulls a piece of it off and pops it in her mouth. She chews it thoughtfully and nods. "Not bad." She says after swallowing. "I have to admit. Never had one in my life. But then I am from the city of Beignets. Fried food. " She rolls her eyes a bit as she says that. " And if I indulge too much I will end up shopping for new clothes." That said she takes a bigger bite. "Nice to meet you, by the way." She says around that bite, "And thanks."
"Not a problem. I can't possibly eat them all before they go stale, and I don't think Poulin was the only one to sneak one out of the basket, if you know what I mean," Coren says with an amused expression on his face as his eyes scan the office. "These you can burn off pretty quickly. Fried food I'd not recommend." He steps back to his desk and pulls up the file he was looking at. "You're new around here, aren't you? I can't recall seeing you around before, and I think I'm here for pretty much every shift change."
Cassidy gives a bit of a nods. "Yes, sir." She says moving back to her own desk with the scone. "Recent transfer from New Orland PD." She drops back down in her chair, making it roll back a bit. "Surprised you haven't heard of me." She glances around her tone bitter. "I figured the fact I tested positive on that stupid test has reached everyone, since I have nothing that shows. I catch all the crude that comes with it, and nothing to show for it." She seems a bit amused by that.
"I try not to listen to office gossip. It's rarely ever accurate," Coren says as he holds up the file he was looking at. "Now, if everyone were required to take that stupid test, this case would be an easy one. We'd just look up every dark-haired woman with telekinesis or related ability, mix them in with known female offenders, and show a facebook to this guy, who was strangled unconscious from several feet away and had his jacket, wedding ring, and wallet stolen. Failing that, we'd show all the light-haired women with their hair digitally darkened to see if any are familiar." He closes the file. "Sadly, not everyone is in the registry, which means that we need to try and find evidence from a kind of assailant who doesn't leave fingerprints, and probably nothing else for that matter."
Cassidy picks up her own folder with both hands, "Tell me about it. Couple of kids roughing up the neighborhood for protection money." She drops it back on the desk. "They have their throats torn out from the inside out by some evolve." She gives a heavy sigh and looks at the file. "Of course, all the store owners in the area are keeping their mouths shut." She flips a page and shakes her head. "I get the feeling they are protecting this guy."
"Throats torn out from the inside?" Coren asks, coming closer to Cassidy's desk with his own file. "Where was this and when?" Clearly he either hasn't paid attention to any news about it, or hasn't been paying attention to the job…. or he's been busy or occupied with something else, which actually is the reason. He's just been occupied doing something he really shouldn't get into again.
Cassidy flips the folder closed and offers it for his viewing pleasure if he should choose too. " Greenwich Village. Outside a small shop." She taps the cover. "We know the guy who did it was wearing a Bengals sports hoodie, but…" Her voice lowers a bit, with a glances to nearby officers. "The witness is inadmissible. Ms. Rebecca Nakano of our own crime scene team, used her own special talents to get a glimpse." She sighs softly. "But, at least it helped push it a bit." She frowns a bit. "I got this odd feeling that he might have been watching, some people do that…" She glances up at Coren. "… find it exciting to take the risk. A crowd search yielded nothing." She doesn't sound very convinced.
"A crowd search didn't yield a person in a Bengals sports hoodie, doesn't mean you didn't spot the bastard." Coren taps his file against his hand. "According to this report, filed at the Crown Heights precinct — don't ask how it ended up my desk…. I don't know — a woman with dark hair choked him unconscious without touching him, and stole his jacket and wedding ring. His wallet was in the jacket pocket, so it's missing too." He holds the file level. "In one case, throats torn out apparently from the inside, in another a person is strangled from afar. To me it sounds like two instances of crimes committed by someone possessing telekinesis, and I wouldn't be surprised if they're somehow tied together. Was Miss Nakano sure the perpetrator was a man?"
Cassidy drops the report on her desk and picks up a small notebook flipping open and thumbing through the pages. Once she finds the right one she scans over it. "Yes… She said she couldn't rewind it to see what /he/ looks like." She looks thoughtful. "I neglected to asked why she thought that." She gives a little twitch of a smile. "So it could be possible that she got it wrong." Her eyes unfocus a bit as she thinks on that. "This person, however, didn't steal anything."
"Can't rule it out for certain then. We should operate under the assumption that these two cases may be somehow linked, but that for all intents and purposes, they should be treated as separate until such a time as we have more than my suspicions," Coren says. "Speaking of Miss Nakano, I believe she will have processed the clothes of the victim in the Brooklyn mugging incident and wanted to see me about the results of that."
Cassidy nods a bit, and drops the notepad on the desk and picks up a pencil to write in it. "Sounds like it… and I agree." She flips to another page and writes a couple of numbers adding her name at the top. ".. treat it like seperate cases, but I'll keep you informed on my end of it, if you'll do the same?" She rips the page out and offers it to Coren.
"Not necessary, Detective." An envelope is put in her line of vision, held by one of the station's Lieutenants. Another envelope is thrust at Coren.
Cassidy leans back from it and glances at the guy butting in with a frown. "What isn't necessary?" Sounding a bit irked at the interruption.
The envelope is wiggled in her face til she snatches it away from man and starts to open it. Coren gets the same treatment. "Well, I guess he would need your phone numbers. But you'll both be on top of each others cases. " There is a big grin given to both. "Congratulations. Meet your new partner." He motions between them both, before turning away.
Detective O'Shea finishes ripping open the envelope and pulls out the orders. "Well.. I'll be damned." She mutters glances back at Coren, her brows lifting high.
Detective Shelby takes his own envelope and opens in carefully, inspecting the contents. "Well, it's about time they got me a new partner. Burned the last two out." He folds up the contents and stuffs them into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. "I hope you can keep up."
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