Participants:
| Scene Title | Vaguely Nutty |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Abigail is left in the eccentric hands of Detective Shelby to take her statement with regards to her abduction. He is not too pleased with what he is told about how she wound up kidnapped in the first place. |
| Date | March 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.
Elisabeth had been called away. Something had come up, like she had warned Abigail but not before she had walked in with the blonde healer, got her plugged into the system so that someone could come talk to her, got her settled in a chair at the SCOUT office with all it's desks, quiet since everyone was out and to wait for the person who would get the job of getting her case plopped on their desk. She and assured her that she wouldn't be far and when she was done would be listening in. In that oh so special way that she can. Looking indecently thin, the kind of thin that says a lot to her past living conditions, she sits with her purse in lap and a donut on napkin picking at it, eating it slowly. Patient. Watching everyone who comes in the room from her perch beside Elisabeth's desk.
Make a brief comment about having free time and see how quickly it evaporates. Not that Coren Shelby would have it any other way. He's been up for a day and a half now, not that anyone could tell that by looking at him. Despite not being directly affiliated with SCOUT, he still managed to snag himself one of their cases, as it was Abigail's file that ended up on his desk. Funny how that works. Needless to say, he is prompt, and arrives only a minute and a half following the file being plopped on his desk.
"You know," Coren says, after he creeps in from one of the back offices, "You really should stay away from the donuts. They're simply not healthy." He has a file tucked under his left arm, and he offers his right hand to shake, "Detective Shelby. You're Abigail Beauchamp, yes?"
"Better than a red bull, or Tree Lizard Soup" It's a plain donut, that at least is better than something chocolate coated. She saw him coming, watched him with every step, so when the hand comes out to be shook, there's a moments hesitation before she does it. Warm hand closing on his to grip it firmly, squeeze, then let go. "Abigail Beauchamp" Southern, by her accent. "Elisabeth had to step out, something came up on a case."
"Tree Lizard Soup? That doesn't sound at all appetizing," he remarks. "Yes, I heard from the uniform that tossed this, rather haphazardly, on my desk." He points the way he came with a thumb, "If you'll come with me, I'll get you something a bit healthier to eat, and then we can sit down and talk."
"It tastes a little bit better than it sounds, so long as you don't question what's in the bottom of the bowl. But I already ate, so thank you, i'm okay for now. One of the others just thought I might enjoy it" Regardless, up Abigail stands, the donut folded neatly in its napkin with one hand while she gathers her jacket and purse. "I'm ready when you are"
Coren nods, "All right. Follow me, then." He walks back the way he entered the office from to a smallish desk with no chair next to it. He pulls open a drawer and pulls out two bottles of water, which he sets on the desk, and then pulls out four energy bars, "In case you do get hungry. I've got chocolate here… more like charcoal, really. Peanut butter? Tastes vaguely nutty. Lemon… never tasted anything quite un-citrus. And then there's this fruit and nut combination…. it actually tastes a bit like raisin, despite not having any raisins or even grapes in it." He tosses them, along with the file, into his outbox, which he then removes from his desk, along with the two water bottles. "Just follow me into my office," he says, leading into a conference room. "Not really my office, but I am tempted to get my name affixed to the door, since it has seen more of me than anyone else in the last two weeks." He drops the inbox down onto the table and then pulls out one of the chairs for Abigail.
"Vaguely nutty" Each bar is studied though not reached for or taken, his running diatribe about the taste of each bringing blue eyes up to his as if to say 'you eat them?'. "I've always been partial to the fruit and nut one. I had two boxes of them, I have two boxes of them at home. I never did like the lemon ones. I'm good thank you, I appreciate the offer." Behind him she follows though, like some puppy on a leash directed by it's owner where to walk till the conference room is reached. A polite dip of the head, she folds herself down into the chair, jacket and purse in lap, donut on the table in front of her. "Could just super glue your nameplate to it. See if anyone notices" Could be a joke, maybe an attempt at a sense of humor.
"Somehow I don't think they would notice," Coren says as he closes the door. Then he takes his own seat and opens one of the bottles of water and takes a drink of it. "The other one's yours if you want it." He clears the energy bars from the tray, laying them out perfectly neat beside the outbox, dead centre of the table, and then takes the file in hand. A small digital recorder is procured from his inner coat pocket and set onto the table. "So, I'm not even going to read this file, it will waste too much of your time. Feel free to tell me why Officer Harrison brought you in here and we'll go from there?"
Abigail nods, a few seconds spent chewing on the corner of her bottom lip before she starts talking. The recorder thank god will keep her from hopefully having to go over things five times. "My name is Abigail Marie Beauchamp. I'm a registered healer. Officer Harrison brought me in because on the evening of February fifth I was stun gunned and kidnapped in front of my apartment" OKay, that was easier to say than she had thought it would. "I was taken to Staten Island, where for the last month I've been kept beneath a brothel and then in a warehouse and made to heal people. Two days ago, people attacked the warehouse and rescued me and others who were also kidnapped and kept there. Evolved and unevolved alike"
Detective Shelby leans forward in his seat. "Have you been publicly acknowledged as a healer?"
"I have individuals who know what I can do. There's a doctor at St. Luke's who knows what I can do and i've helped them on occasion with patients who are in need of a miracle. I've helped SCOUT on occasion with their officers. But it's not shouted from the rafters what it is, that I can do. For.. the very reason why I'm sitting here right now" Her forefinger and thumb pick at the donut again, watching Shelby, even closer when he leans forward.
Coren listens, his eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly. "A terrible ordeal, I'm sorry you had to go through that." Then he leans back. "Please, continue."
"Ordeal" Abby shakes her head slightly. Not exactly the word she'd have used. She frowns regardless, pushing the donut away a few millimetres. "What does being publicly acknowledged have to do with it?"
"Maybe nothing, it all depends," Coren says, leaning back further to the point of actually tipping the chair, which does not willingly recline, back on its legs slightly. "If you have nothing else to add to why you're here, I do have a number of questions that have sprung to mind, but I'd rather save them until after you've said all you have to say."
"I'm here too in the hopes that Homeland Security doesn't think I tried to skip out on them. I was flying home the night they took me Detective. There's nothing like being told not to leave town without letting them know then disappearing and not showing up where your supposed to be. I'd really… like to not be arrested for something I had no control over"
"I wouldn't dream of letting that happen. That would be bad police work, especially on their part…." Coren lets the poor chair relax, setting its forward-facing feet back down on the ground. "How old are you, Abigail?"
"I just turned twenty years of age Sir" Her eyes so far have remained on him for the most part, what he's doing.
Detective Shelby nods, "And you said they abducted you from out front of your apartment. Do you live alone?"
My current roomate is parked in a evolved prison for terrorist crimes. Can't really say that. "He's out of town right now for the next while, was out of town before I was taken. "
Roommates are so much more useful when they're around, so they can report you missing. Can't really say that, either. "You wouldn't happen to be thinking of any ballpark figure as to how many people you have healed or who may have watched you perform your ability? Are we talking a dozen, two, three dozen people, or more?"
"In all the time that i've been able to, or just since I've resided in New York?"
"Both."
Abigail frowns, brows furrowing. "People who know they're been healed, or also including people who don't? Because a great many never knew that they were" Her hands splays on the table. "Hundreds. People who came in hurt to the diner or the bar. There's a regular routine I have, with homeless people. Major catastrophe's and incidents, I've long since lost count. I've been able to do this since I was 12"
"That's an enormous list of suspects," Detective Shelby says. "But I think it's safe to say that they're from New York, otherwise I doubt they'd keep you here." He runs a hand against his apparently permanent stubble. "Did you ever get the feeling like you were being watched prior to the abduction?"
"It's a small list of suspects. John Logan, A man by the name of Muldoon and there was a third man, who I never learned the name of, but he was there the night I was taken, as well as another … time." She looks down at the table, brows drawn down as well. "John logan is evolved. He can turn your ability off by either being close, or touching you. He can cause you to have a panic attack, calm down or he can make you incredibly blissful. Mr. Muldoon has an ability, he touched my cheek and it tingled. What it did beyond that, I don't know. The third man, I don't know if he's evolved or not, but he was Logan's go to man for all this enforcement. You can go to Old Lucy's and see if they have tapes of surveillance, as Mr. Muldoon and John Logan came to my place of work a few weeks before they took me. You'll know them, if there's tapes by the monkey that was with them" When the blonde across from him stop talks it's to splay both hands on the top of the table again, jaw tight.
"Well, that certainly does help," Coren says as he pulls out his notepad and scribbles down a few notes. The mere idea of the implications of John Logan's abilities unsettle him slightly, as does the unknown nature of Mr. Muldoon's abilities. "Do you happen to have a first name for Mister Muldoon, or a name for the third man? Would you also happen to know what day of the week they stopped in to Old Lucy's?"
"No, I don't remember, they may have called him by his first name, but I don't know it. he's the owner of the Pancratium, and almost half the island probably, you just have to ask anyone. John logan owns the Happy Dagger, the brothel. The other guy" There's a shake of her head. "I never saw him unless he was dropping someone off to be healed or was dragging me out to be brought to the warehouse for the fighters. He's not American. He always called Logan 'mon capitan'" What day. Abby screws her eyes tight before shaking her head. "Mid-January? I'm sorry. I don't.. One of the others at the bar would know, I'm sorry"
"My captain," Coren says. "No, it would be rather pointless anyway. The likelihood of a pub having surveillance over a week old I would say is slim. But, as you said, he owns a business, he should not be hard to track down." He fans his notebook a bit in thought, and then taps its edge against his opposite hand. "Do you think John Logan or Mister Muldoon ever saw you heal anyone, prior to the abduction or prior to their appearance at your place of employment?"
"They didn't" She knows they didn't. "They found me from the registry Detective Shelby. The evolved registry. They told me so. That it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't had such…" Abigail tries to remember the words. "If I hadn't had such a martyr complex and hadn't have registered"
Coren's eyes widen. He dampens his lips with his tongue. "You did your civic duty, Abigail. It would appear, however, that others have failed remarkably in that respect." His words come out slowly, and with force. The mere idea that anyone would make that information available to anyone. It's incomprehensible. "Under these circumstances…. I don't think anyone realized the registry would be used to harm people. An MO resembles an evolved's ability and they're brought in for questioning, just like if a registered gun is found at the scene of a crime. The mere idea that someone would harvest names from the list, pick the person they want to abduct and …" Coren clenches his fist around his notebook. He takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair. "At this time, if you are prepared to do so, I would like you to sit down with a sketch artist to get a rendition of Mister Muldoon and the third, unknown subject. After that, I would say the choice is yours. I can inform you of certain possibilities, but I can practically guarantee none of them will be plesant or swift."
"I can do that. I have the rest of the day. I'll be staying with Officer Harrison till I can sort things out" Certain possibilities. She isn't expecting them to descend like a mass of angry hornets and obliterate the island or the happy dagger. "What are those possibilities?"
"What tier are you?"
"I'm registered at tier zero" The kind that no one gets to know the name or even the ability of. Harmless.
Detective Shelby shakes his head, "Tier zero is harmless; no public information available aside from a number, which means wherever the information came from, it had to have come from the database. Given that either someone hacked into or acquired the list, or at least your name, from someone in law enforcement…." Coren shakes his head. "A thorough investigation will be necessary to determine whether or not there were one or more acts of criminal negligence or reckless endangerment. And of course, there would be kidnapping and false imprisonment charges which you may file against John Logan, Mister Muldoon, and the third, unknown subject. A number of other charges spring to mind, depending on what was done to you whilst you were falsely imprisoned."
Depending upon what was done to her. Abigail licks her lips before she nods. "They uhh. They shot me. Twice. The third man. John Logan had him cut …" The healer reaches over, lift up and bend over the conference table to grab for the second bottle of water that Coren had offered to her. "They cut off my tongue. People came looking for me. Logan got scared and tried to .. intimidate me. He forced me into a panic attack with his ability and then slapped me across the face. I hit him back with a … bible" yes, that's right. A bible. " He tried to, do more, But I had a spoon, plastic spoon that I had carved down and, I tried to attack him. I wasn't thinking, and I hurt him and he had his, the third g..guy came in with others and.. shot me, and my tongue. I was moved after that"
If the look on Coren's face could get any more grim, it would be a miracle. He nods slowly as she talks, but says nothing for a moment. Then he pulls up his hand and counts them off, "Two counts attempted murder; one count aggravated assault, two if you count the panic attack, four if you also count the two gunshot wounds; intentional infliction of emotional distress; assault and battery. If I had to guess, I'd say at least one life sentence." He remains silent for a moment, "Dare I ask if there's more?"
There's a quick shake of her head. "No. Just he liked to use his ability on me. Make me docile and go where he wanted me to or make it easier to move me. There's.. there were others. There was a woman named Maya, at the brothel, said that there had been a healer who occupied the room in the basement before me, but that she had been taken away. I understand that they had been used till they couldn't do what they did anymore and then.. " And then can be construed as anything. Abigail swallows hard, rolling the bottle of water between her hands."
Detective Shelby scratches at his stubbled chin and then drums his fingers along the table. "And now for the bad news… We'll need your statement and we'll need to get the people who rescued you to provide statements as well, and if they are evolved, they will have to register if they are not already, otherwise their testimony will be useless. We need to know where the warehouse was and we'll need to secure a number of search and seizure warrants and send crime scene units to both the brothel and the warehouse. Without the testimony or the warehouse, we'll only have the brothel. If we can't secure evidence, it will be 'he said, she said' and a lot of good that will do. If we can't prove to a jury beyond a reasonable doubt that you were in fact abducted and falsely imprisoned, there will be no way to press charges against whoever was responsible for getting your name in John Logan's hands in the first place."
"The people who rescued me were all dressed in black and had their faces covered Detective. I never saw their faces during it. I got hit with a bullet during it all and was in a lot of pain" towards the end, yes she was. "A few were evovled, I know that, and they had a helicopter. They took off once they got us out. I can give you the name of the guy who was with me when I was kidnapped and was rescued with me. Magnes Varlane. I haven't seen him since. He's a friend. I can.. tell you where the brothel is, the warehouse, I can.." Abigail bows her head, fingers rubbing at her temple. "I'm sorry. I just.. I didn't walk up to him and say hey, take me, i'll heal. They took me. He touched me and he made me docile as a kitten and they just carried me. They kept me in a basement with a locked door and dragged me out to heal fighters. They shot me Detective Shelby. He.. He cut out my tongue so that I couldn't pray to God. This isn't my tongue. They have another healer. She regrew it for me. It's like a sinkhole in my mouth. I look like a person who's been locked away for a month. I've looked in a mirror." the anger flares up, finally pushing through the drugs in her system. "How is it he said she said? How is it that when I have two scars on my thigh and I spent three days in a dirty shipping container in and out of consciousness because I couldn't heal myself and they didn't give me anything for my pain?"
Detective Shelby nods, "I'm sorry." He remains silent a moment. "That will be fairly useful on the jury. If we can locate Magnes Varlane, possibly the other healer or the one that was taken away, things will go even smoother." He grabs one of the energy bars, the chocolate one, from the table next to the recorder and opens it. "Defense attorneys can be quite vile creatures. This is nowhere near what could happen in a court room." He bites into the energy bar and chews the piece down, clearly mulling things over. Then his brow quirks, "Did they remove the bullets?"
"Theres.. one, something, still in my leg. I've healed around it." Small blessings? "I can't.. I'm…" The water bottle suffers under the blonde's hand, thumbs pushing in and denting the bottle no matter how resistant it is to that. "I just want to live quietly. A court.. case.. I can't afford a Lawyer Detective Shelby, and I don't want my picture everywhere. I can.. I can find you Magnes. He worked for Panucci's Pizza, he's their delivery boy and lives above the pizza place."
"We should have it excised, see if we can get a viable print from it," Coren says quietly. He drums his fingers on the table again, chewing silently on another piece of the chocolate energy bar. "The problem with that, and I understand your reasoning completely, is that without you testifying, John Logan will remain a free man, unless we can find substantial evidence to back up the allegations. Hopefully Magnes will be enough. I will have an all points bulletin put out for Magnes Varlane. With any luck, he will be in the condition one might expect of one wrongfully imprisoned and can substitute for you in any trial. I believe we are finished here."
The bottle's slid up on the tabletop, an inch from the edge with a silent nod from Abigail. "Yes sir" To everything and nothing all at once. Substantial evidence. Abigail nods again, pressing the heels of her palms to her eyes. 'Wh.. whatever needs to be done"
"Worse comes to worst, we videotape you and erase your face digitally. Give the jury video testimony." Coren stands and reaches into his inner jacket pocket, producing his card, which he sets down on the table. He tosses the wrapper of his energy bar into a garbage pail in one corner of the room before going back to the recorder. "This hereby concludes the interview between Detective Coren J. Shelby and Abigail Beauchamp on Friday, March thirteenth, two thousand and nine. Miss Beauchamp, I will have a sketch artist brought into this conference room to get some preliminary sketches done of Mister Muldoon and the unknown subject. If you will remain here for a few minutes while I place a call in to one of our sketch artists, you should be joined shortly by one." He turns off the recorder and collects it and all but the energy bars, which he leaves on the table with his card. "I or Officer Harrison will be in to check on you some time later."
"Detective Shelby?" Her hands are taken away from her eyes. "I want my name and information removed, from the registration list. I want to formally request it. I'll take any fine, I'll sit in jail if I have to. But I can't go through this again. I really can't. Two nights now, I've woken up screaming. This is not the first time that people have tried to take me for what I can do, before or after I registered. But someone.. someone let them get to that list. I can't go to work without wondering who's going to come up behind me now, or who's going to take me from a hospital room, or even.. whether I can get on a plane and not worry that someone thinks that they have the right to make me do, what they want me to do, just because I signed my name on a piece of paper."
Detective Shelby stops in the doorway. He turns back and nods, "I'll see what I can do." He then turns and leaves the conference room, closing the door part way on his way out. What he doesn't say is that, given what has already happened, her information is probably already out there, registry or not.
 March 13th: Your Hubris Is Showing |
 March 13th: The Great Vision |