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Scene Title Un-const-i-tutional
Synopsis Dean Beauchamp wants to have a few words with the cop who took care of his daughters case and find out just what is what and who to go yell at. He gets pointed in the right direction by Coren and Abby flees to the bathroom to try and avoid the embarrassment that is her upset father. Not that anyone can tell the man is upset.
Date May 11, 2009

NYPD Headquarters

The New York Police Department Head Quarters is an old stone building, rennovated 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.

Daddy Beauchamp wants answers. And placating from Abigail wasn't stopping it. So while Doreen was wanting to go check out this church of Abigails and then do a little shopping on her own - beware anyone who tries to rob the Mrs. Beauchamp - Abigail took her father down to the precinct in the early early afternoon. Her red hair back in a ponytail, black leather jacket with it's tan piping, a khaki skirt and white cotten shirt beneath, she's gotten directions to where Doctor Shelby might be, so that her father can get his information from the source as opposed to his daughter.

And sure enough, Coren is at least near his desk. It's one of the most frequent places one can find him. With all the extra time on his hands, he's the only cop who is completely up to date on his paperwork. While pouring water into his mug for tea, he's poring over the end of a report, file folder precariously balanced between wrist and elbow. Satisfied, he snaps it closed and takes his mug and the file back to his desk, which is when he spots Abigail and a man with her he does not recognize. He could guess, but he'd rather not take any assumptions, so he offers a polite nod and says softly, "Abigail."

"Doctor Shelby this is my father Mr. Dean Beauchamp. Dah, this is the Detective who was .. put on my case" The redhead looks over to Coren. "My Dah had a few things he wanted to ask and clarify" The look on her face? Abject apology, because she figures that the man if about to get a faceful of southern … manners, from her father. Someones father found out about what happened.

"Doctor." A slight, respectful nod from Dean to the man near his desk, his expression rather serious and grave— brow furrowed a bit, gaze hard, jaw already set. "Ah was wonderin' a few things, indeed, as my daughter here says," he says in calm but flat tones, "Mainly regardin' when kidnappin' became legal in these here United States."

"Mister Beauchamp," Coren says and he offers his hand to shake. There's a sharp exhale from Dr. Shelby as he makes his decided topic of conversation known. He had a feeling that was what this was going to be about, and now it's confirmed. "I assure you, Mister Beauchamp, that kidnapping is still illegal in the United States and in the city and state of New York. Pursuit of your daughter's case is more of logistics and jurisdiction than of law. Despite my own and other's fervent protestations in the matter, the office of the district attorney issued a statement with regards to Staten Island being outside of the New York Police Department's jurisdiction due to the lack of police presence there since the destruction of the Verrazano-Narrows bridge."

It's a hand rough from work, calluses and old scars speaking of hard labor, and Dean Beauchamp's grip is firm but not crushing. Once it's released, his hand falls back to rest against his hip, lips pursing in a tight frown. "Ah see," he murmurs, "Now, ah'm not the smartest man on the planet, Doctor Shelby — no, darlin', it's true — but that sounds jus' a bit un-const-i-tutional to me. There's people over there, aren't they? That's still part've our great nation, isn't it?"

Dean knows his daughter. The moment the words of being not the smartest come off his lips, Abigail's already opening hers to protest that. But she shuts it just as quick, remaining quiet beside the man, blue eyes glancing back and forth between the two men.

"You're preaching to the choir, Mister Beauchamp," Coren says. "The situation over there is dire, and I think the District Attorney should be shipped over there to find out why we should be taking back the island. I don't know the full logistics of the situation and why we haven't taken it back. I am going to assume it has something to do with the various criminal organizations that seem to be running over there, along with some matters I am unfortunately not permitted to discuss at this time. I am all for taking it back, but the department won't back it. We don't have enough manpower to take the island back."

A thin-lipped smile, then, before Dean notes calmly, "Well, then, there's a course of action that - while you, Doctor Shelby, might not be able to take, ah certainly can. Because if the District Attorney refuses to let the city take back Staten Island, and let people get kidnapped, hurt, an' killed, then ah suspect ah could find any number of lawyers willin' to ask him where the cons-ti-tution says he can abandon American citizens like that."

It's at that point that Abby pipes in "I have to use the powder room… I'm.. going to.. go… use it…." because right now she needs to go groan into her palms and refuse to accept this current reality. the reality that is her father talking with the Detective and just indirectly said he would sue the state. With that, the redhead is quite quickly heading out the door before she can be stopped. Sorry Coren, looks like you get to handle daddy Beauchamp on your own.

Coren's eyes meet Abby's for a moment with a look of understanding before he turns his attention back to her father. "I'm not so sure it's just refusal preventing them," he says, "That would be highly questionable. But if we don't have sufficient numbers to take it all in one fell swoop, there will be innumerable casualties. That's likely what is keeping the District Attorney's office from allowing us to go over there to pursue criminals, and that's likely what has prevented the city and state from taking action to reclaim the island. But, I am not an expert on the matter and can only offer my own theories. You should direct your questions to the District Attorney himself. He's in the municipal building not far from here at One Hogan Place. It's about a five minute drive." Because Coren would like nothing else than to make the DA suffer through such a conversation.

"Ah think ah might just do that," replies Dean with a tight shake of his head, "This isn't some third world country, Doctor, an' they can't jus'… leave part of the country to rot. We don't do that, here in America. If they need the National Guard, well, then they should call in the damn National Guard." It's a good thing Abby isn't here to hear her father swear!

"Believe me," Coren says, "This I know well." He pulls the tea bag from his tea and gives it a firm squeeze into his mug before tossing it into the garbage pail under his desk, finally making his way into his chair and taking a sip of it. "I think it's a good idea that a man such as yourself, the father of someone who had crimes committed against her, bring to attention this problem. Perhaps coming from you it will seem like as big a problem as it is."

"Ah can hope so," Dean nods, firmly, his lips pursing in a scowl, "If not, well, ah'll just have to do what ah have to do. Ah'm sure ah can get the church behind me."

"Hopefully someone can talk some sense into the man," Coren says, "Because if nobody does, things are going to get worse for us detectives. It makes it hard for us to do our jobs when part of the city is off limits to us. Not that Staten Island would normally be in the jurisdiction of the stations on Manhattan. Staten Island had its own precincts."

"They didn't bomb the island," notes Dean, his brow furrowing, "So what happened to all those cops? You can't tell me they're all dead, there would've been a massive do-to about somethin' like that…"

"The island wasn't bombed, no, but it was directly in the path of the nuclear fallout. It had to be evacuated. That's how the criminal element managed to get such a good grip of it in the first place. By the time it was habitable again, it was too late," Coren says. "Some of the police from there came to Manhattan, and others left the city or the state entirely. The fact of the matter is, the New York Police Department is understaffed. The average officer works fourteen- to sixteen-hour shifts with one day off every three to four weeks, if they're lucky. Some of us work even longer hours, and we still don't have enough man-power to do what we need for Manhattan, let alone anywhere else." Longer hours, and yet aside from looking weary, Coren appears to be perfectly awake.

"Then the city needs to step up recruitment," Dean shakes his head, that frown deepening, "Ah refuse to believe that this country no longer has the ability to protect its people. This is the United States of America, One Nation under God. Ah'll talk to this… District Attorney. Who would ah talk to, to get in to see him?"

"I can't say I know any of their staff by name, save District Attorney Sandler himself. You should be able to get in to see him or one of his staff just by popping into their building at One Hogan Place. They'll have more information for you if they can't get you in to see him promptly," Coren says, taking another sip of his tea.

"Ah'll do that, Doctor," Dean allows, offering his hand and a faint, apologetic smile, "Ah just can't let a thing like this stand. She's my little girl, you understand that, no doubt."

Coren nods slowly and takes a sip of his tea. "I did what I could. We had enough to initiate a search of the business of one of the men responsible, but before we could issue a warrant for his arrest based on our findings, heck, before we'd even processed what we seized from his business, he'd already gone. Likely hiding on Staten Island. At any rate, he and the others responsible are my first priority once Staten Island is open again for us to do our jobs."

Abigail comes walking back into the room, gingerly, carefully. Bright blue eyes poking in first, followed by the rest of her body when it's obvious that Hurricane Beauchamp hasn't landed on the shores of the office. "Everything okay in here?" Cautious tone of voice as she comes to stand by her father again.

"Good," Dean states bluntly, then turns to quirk a faint smile towards his daughter as she makes her reappearance, raising a hand to rest on her shoulder, "Everything's fine, darlin'."

"Indeed," Coren responds as Abigail returns and speaks up. "Well, if you don't mind too much, Mister Beauchamp, my partner will be returning soon with our lunch and we're going to be rather busy for the rest of the afternoon." He takes a sip of his tea and stands to see the two off, provided they have no further questions.

"Oh! Who's your partner? And no problem Doctor Shelby. Thank you for taking the time to .. talk.. with my father while he was up. Dah, we should go now, before momma buys out all the souvenir shops. Let the detective get back to lunch and work" Abigail looks between the two men. That's enough harassing of the police dad, let it go…..

"Probably," Dean gives his head a shake, "Thank you very much, Doctor Shelby, I appreciate your time.." He turns, then, noting quietly, "We have to stop by the District Attorney's office, later…"

"I don't think you know her," Coren says, although he knows full well that Abby does. He just doesn't know what her cover job is and so doesn't want to do anything to make things awkward. "Of course, Mister Beauchamp. You two take care of yourselves and I will of course do my best to, at any rate, make sure nothing like this ever happens again."

There's something akin to a 'oh no we won't' look on Abigail's face that Coren can see. There will be no visit to the district attorney's office, not while her parents are here. "Thank you for your time Doctor Shelby. We'll be going now. Come on Dah" Taking her fathers arms and steering him towards the door. "Time to pick up Momma and go to Ellis Island then dinner" and they're going. Hopefully. Without complaint from her father.

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