Brief Title:
The Interrogation of Ambrose
Characters:
Ambrose, Blindfold, Storm, Emma, Detective Lawson, Detective Williams
Scene Runner/Watcher:
IC Date:
2010/05/05
Location:
Police Station - Hell's Kitchen
Summary:
Ambrose is brought in for questioning regarding his involvement in the double stabbings earlier in the week. (time jump converted)
Social or Plot:
Social
TS:
Yes
Log:
-----==[ Pricinct 666 - Hell's Kitchen ]==--------------------------------------------
As with all other police stations, it is filled with the officers who wear black, and the criminal who wears bright, loud, obnoxious Tommy clothing and carries a larger gun than the police. Pimps, hookers, drug dealers, gang members, murderers, child molesters, burgulars, thieves, muggers and all are here within plain view and being booked, and incarcerated to stand trial in the near future where they will be released soon thereafter for the criminal justice system sucks. The general local is multileveled and quite large, well lit and always full of people.
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There's a good thing about Sunday evenings. But for those working at the Pricint, it sometimes becomes hard to remember what that is. Seeing people who can't even give Sunday a rest to commit their crimes being brought in. But it is at least SLIGHTLY slower. So that makes it the PERFECT time to talk to another scum- err, person of interest. The interrogation room is ready, and waiting.
Ambrose had not really been ARRESTED, but he had been strongly asked to come in for further questioning, and thus here he was. Having been on good behaviour for many yers, he wasnt about to screw it up now - aside from a bit of a hangover, which showed. He had dressed impeccably so, with only his frazzled hair a little bit erratic as he stepped in wearing the suit he wore now at Xaviers' school a lot, his fingers pink from a lot of scrubbing over the past few days, almost removing his fingerprints. He nods politely to the officer and glanced about the room before taking The Chair, trying to sit in a relaxed method.
"They will be with you soon." The door closes, leaving Ambrose in the room alone. No handcuffs, just a simple plastic picture of water and a plastic cup await upon the table should he get thirsty. And thirsty he may get as the room seems a bit warmer than the rest of the building. The temperature dial sits behind a plastic lockbox, teasing the viewer with the temperature setting but without allowing a means to change it. It becomes apparent that 'soon' is a relative world in this place as time goes by.
Ambrose fidgets a little bit, and eyes the water a little. Then he frowns. His coat is discarded as he sits, trying to act still. He began to count mentally, eyes staring at the table until one may thbink he almost fell asleep. Then he sat back and did the same, counting ceiling tiles. He pulled out his stack of worn out recipe cards and began to read them, sorting them into piles, stacking, and then resorting. He always had something to do on hand usually. Then he looked at the thermostat accusingly, squinting to read it without moving. He had an idea that they were doing htis on purpose.
What? Really? Naawwwww. With the teacher continuing with his busy work, the door latch finally turns, allowing for two men to step in. Unlike the officers bringing in perps or the ones taking the statement at the scene Ambrose found the stabbing victims at, these men are not in the traditional uniform and instead are sporting suits of the lower-quality variety. The older looking one, sporting a bit of a belly glances around and starts to take off his jacket but upon seeing the other following suit turns to look towards the thermostat. "Who the hell used the room last?"
The younger and taller looking man shakes his head, "Rio, I think. With the way he is with the temperature I wonder how the hell he lasts through winter here."
Ambrose glances up as the men enter, and he stands politely, hands behind his back. No handshake is offered but he looks at the THermostat again, and then back to them as he remarks "He dresses warmly I would guess." trying to be part of the conversation, his tremors well hidden now.
The younger man cracks a half smile, "Like a goddamn eskimo." He turns his head looking over towards Ambrose but doesn't move forward yet as he waits for the other man to fish out a key to open up the plastic casing to fidgit with the dial. Upon that task completing and the two of them starting to walk over to the table, the signs of a couple folders in the elder man's other hand becomes visible. He shoves the key into his pocket before reaching what is presumedly the dominant hand over towards Ambrose. "Detective Williams." He tilts his head towards the younger lawman, "Detective Lawson."
"Ambrose Smith, but you probably know that." he pauses, staring at the hand, and then glancing to the pocket with the key "... Sorry, I am ah, I am not a handshaker. Germaphobe." he explains truthfully and uneasily. "No offense or anything. I just take good care of myself and I dont like risking even accidental contact you understand... A pleasure to meet you both, Detectives."
There's a bit of a half smirk, almost predatory on the older detective's expression as he drops his hand. "That we do know, the germaphobe part, no. But, that does make things a bit interesting, doesn't it?" He glances over to Lawson, nodding towards Ambrose before taking the seat across from Ambrose, setting the closed file in front of him. Detective Lawson on the other hand, sits right next to Ambrose. Perhaps a bit too close, but not necessarily touching.
"So, Mr. Smith. I trust enough time has passed for you to get your story together?"
Ambrose takes his seat as well, politely as he folds his hands in his lap, sitting incredibly straight. He blinks a few times "What? Oh yes. Sorry I was very shaken at the time. I dont deal well with blood see, at least not OTHERS blood. You dont know where they've been or what's gone on with them and stuff, nd even a papercut.. you know you can get HIV via blood splattered into your eyes right? You wear protection during autopsies I assume?" nervous? NO WAI.
"We aren't the ones that peform autopsies." Detective Williams corrects in that assumption, "But we do work on tracking the ones who make the autopsies necessary." His eyes drift down to the folder in front of him. "So, Mr. Smith. What were you doing by the apartment building ALONE with the victims?" His hand rests on the folder.
Detective Lawson leans on the table, turning towards Ambrose to give an explanation, "It's not very safe to be walking down there by yourself. It's strange that you would be doing that. We have to ask."
"I wander at night. I have troubles sleeping sometimes. I think too much." the man explains. "So I walk while I think, hoping to exhaust myself... its better than the... alternative that I seem to be susceptible to." he rubs his hands together, his mind fast enough to catch on to what they were meaning "I dont usually go down there, I think I did by accident. I smelled the smoke and well, I did get a bit worried - apartment fires have a HIGH mortality rate especially in sky rises. Ahem, anyways. So I looked, concerned, and I saw a man standing there. I mentioned him before didnt I? I had never seen him before, but he was at the apartment too. He threw those cards that you collected at me, and well, I got a bit too curious and picked them up... and then well, to my shame I freaked out when I saw what was glueing them together." a shudder, and he almost went green.
"Ah yes, the alternative." Detective Williams agrees, "The addiction to cocaine, is it?" He shakes his head, "If you had watched the news, you'd have known the smell was the remains of the apartment that was set on fire earlier that week. But, no fatalities with that one fortunately."
Detective Lawson tilts his head, looking at Ambrose's face, seeming almost concerned "You don't really look that good right now. Are you okay?"
He shook himself and then Ambrose nodded at Lawson "I am... very much a germaphobe, or a bloodphobe I guess. Unless its been dead and fossilized for at least a few hundreds of thousands of years, I prefer someone else to handle it." and then starts at Williams, tensing "... Alcoholism, actually." he notes, a little sharply "That's my vice of choice. A little more legal, and you are welcome to test me for other narcotics. I dont watch the news all that much actually. I focus on my work and studies. Too many things to think about and I start to get distracted." he explained simply.
"Really?" Detective Williams asks, he snerks, "From your record it looked like the other way around. But maybe I had it wrong. Were you planning to sell the cocaine instead?"
Detective Lawson glances over towards Williams, jaw dropping slightly before looking to Ambrose, "You'll have to forgive him. He's been a bit-"
"Shut up, Lawson." Williams snaps, turning to look towards Ambrose, "Do you have any idea how things look with you?"
Ambrose bristles a little bit at Williams at that, and he inhales a few times at this, trying not to panic as he states, in his agitated state answering the questions in order "Then my record is incorrect. I am an alcholic, not a dealer, nor a user. The dates on my record should show that it happened many , many years ago." and then to Williams, this time focusing on him almost unnervingly strongly "I... I think I am beginning to see it. But you must believe me that I did not do it. I found them, I called nine one one and then proceeded to offer first aid to the one still alive, and then had a minor meltdown in front of the ambulance crew once they had taken over and I actually noticed I had other's blood on me."
Lawson frowns, looking at Ambrose as he gives his explanation, nodding sympathetically to the story. Glancing over to Williams, "A-"
"I said, shut UP. Lawson. Now, Lets see what we got." Williams continues, not seeming to care about Ambrose's response at all as he fiddles with the contents of the file, "We get a call where there's one dead and one gravely wounded. The dead one's an addict and the other just happens to have had his apartment burned down just the other day. And WHO makes the call? Someone with a history with the very drug that the officer was looking into. How many counts you ask?" He sets some pictures face down on the table before holding up his hands, counting off the charges. "One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven!" He smirks, staring at Ambrose as he starts flipping over the pictures of several stabbing victims. Two of which are from the scene Ambrose was at, while the others are of presumedly still alive people being photographed at the hospital, including a certain long haired rocker, "So, you lied to us about the cocaine. What else are you lying about?"
Ambrose blinks at the sudden burst of emotion from the officer. He lifted his hands a little, then put them down again. His eyes darted down to the pictures, and then he went sheet white. He then inhales a little bit, pulling out his cards to play with them nervously, starting to count them under his breath... counting very rapidly, obsessively indeed before he manages to respond "I am... NOT lying. That was.. over a DECADE ago. I havent done anything of the sort SINCE. " the last picture though made him blink twice in recognition. "I dont do that, I NEVER have. You are speaking to a germaphobe who has a condition so bad he has had to live on disability because of it. You think I somehow can overcome this and randomly hurt people? Its not that easy. Mental illnesses are NOT something you can 'just get over' " his voice was trembling a little and he restacks all of his cards again.
Ruth arrives at the police station with Miss Monroe, her cane tapping along the floor rapidly in agitation as she found her way to the front desk "May I speak with Officer Lawson please and if I may, see Mr Smith, please yes?"
The Detectives are watching Ambrose closely. Lawson more due to his physical proximity to where Ambrose is seated, but still. CLOSELY. When Ambrose's attention pauses on the last one, it does register to the both of them but the reactions are a bit different. Lawson seems surprised and glances from him to the photo and back. "You know who that is?"
"SH-" Detective Williams starts to shut up Lawson before he registers the question, looking towards Ambrose, "It's amazing what someone does when they 'snap'. And you are no pop. Although, maybe you could be a CRACKle."
Detective Lawson looks over at Williams, blankly.
The officer at the front desk doesn't even look up as he gestures towards the chairs to the side, "Wait over there. We'll let you know when they're done."
"That is that famous Musician, Mick Draco. I've seen him in the news. He plays the drums, although his work on the riser is always a little bit off-beat to the rest." explains Ambrose, voice tight and very controlled. His heart rate had gone up, and he puts a hand up against his throat, measuring his own pulse. He looked incredibly alarmed, very ashen faced and started to shake badly, closing his eyes "I'm not a drug dealer. I am not a drug USER. I'm a damn alcoholic with a hangover and a serious case of obsessive compulsion. " he openes his eyes, but pointedly doesnt look at the pictures again, instead at the two officers, not sure what else to say, but visibly scared, and a little nauseated. "I dont know when the other murders happened, but I imagine for most of them I can provide proof that I was elswhere."
Detective Lawson's cellphone rings. Glancing to it, the younger detective moves away from Ambrose and steps out of the room for a few moments.
Ruth frowns but storm pats her shoulder and instead speaks in a smooth regal voice "Mr Ambrose Smith is a teacher at the xavier school for the gifted, I was sent see if we could be of assistance." maybe it took a adult touch. Ruth though steadily taps her cane on the floor "But he didn't do it, he couldn't, he can't even bring himself to shake someone's hand without gloves or using hand sanitizer right after, yes sorry"
"Draco..." Detective Williams looks to the photo, "...Close enough." He scoops up the photos, except for Drago's leaving it there facing Ambrose while putting the other photos away. "We will be sure to check into that. Indeed."
Detective Lawson walks in, frowning and walks over to whisper something into Detective Williams's ear. The larger older man's angry face soon shifts to a frown as well. Lawson straightens up and reaches over to Drago's photo as well, frown deepening as he pulls it to put into Detective Williams's folder. "Mr. Smith. I believe we have all we need from you. Feel free to leave."
The person at the front desk glances over, looking a bit irritated. "Wait. Over. There." Geez, what a grump.
Ambrose sat very still. He gulped for air, but glanced up at both of them, perhaps a minute surprised. And then he relaxed, looking quite releived "Th... Thank you both. If if I think of naything else I have your cards I believe." he notes, standing, then catching hismelf on the back of the chair. "Excuse me, I think I need to go and use the mens' room for a moment."
"Sure." Detective Williams mutters, "Lawson?"
The younger detective goes over to open the door for Ambrose. "I'll show you the way."
Ruth wore a deep frown but after a discouraging look from storm at the police man behind the desk, ruth got steered off to the side and began to fidget with her cane. "This might be legit but they're looking at the wrong person, and what the order is doing is just dispicable yes sorry!"
Ambrose finally steps out of the room, and doesnt even notice Ruth at first as he dissapears into the bathroom. Someone may hear retching and a few sobs before the sound of water running, and then he reemerges, face clean, pale but calmer now. A blink "Ruth! What are you doing here?"
Ruth didn't look happy at all but smiles warmly when she hears Ambrose "I came cuz of you and Officer Lawson, yes thank you. Are you alright, did they clear you, please thank you?"
Storm smiles softly "I came to see what help I could give and she asked to come along but the front desk would not lett us pass" Word might have gotten around back at the mansion that ruth left for the police station upset
Ambrose states "I think so. I havent been processed, fingerprinted or charged with anything, so I think so yes." he notes, looking quite releived "Can we go? Talk on the way back to the mansion or something? Please? " he was still agitated but appreciative of the others' being here, and it showed as he joined both Ruth and Storm, nodding to the second one gratefully. "Well, rules are rules I suppose right?"
Not really wanting to listen to the retching, Lawson went towards his desk and settled down. The lack of personal decor a slight giveaway to it being a new position.
Emma Frost lingers just inside the door, trying to stand clear of any of the traffic going in or out. If her occasional grimace of distaste is any indication as she moves aside, she is especially interested in staying away from any of the criminal element passing through, possibly out of fear of staining her clothes from casual contact. Like Storm and Ruth, she was not allowed inside, though she had faded into the background at the first sign of resistance. Perhaps she had been waiting for an opportunity.
At the first sign of Ambrose stepping into view, or at least Ruth's relief at seeing him, she smiles a hint of a smile and steps out of the station house onto the street.
~Fin~
