|Location||New York City Police Department|
|Summary||Irene and Vega bring in a very difficult suspect charged with assault, who claims to remember doing nothing of the sort.|
| The New York City Police Department's 7th Precinct building is old and made of brick. It was built to last, but compared to precincts in wealthier sections of the city it's an old relic.
The interior is usually a few degrees too warm or too cold. Pastry boxes and paperwork litter desks and tables, but a free donut and a mediocre cup of joe are easy to find. The desk sergeant greets most walk-ins. Two or three lieutenants are available at any given time, and a handful of beat cops loiter around, too.The brick walls are lined with bulletin boards, flags, memorabilia, and more. The building's rich history is detailed in old photographs depicting famous arrests, charitable work, and handshakes with icons and politicians of the past. Perps are kept in a holding pen beyond the desk sergeant. The only office is reserved for the captain.
"Shit, I keep writing '40 instead of '41," a burly older police officer jests as he circles his tiny desk to get out of the immediate vicinity of the entryway to the Mutant Affairs office. He briefly peaks out of the department door's glass window, "Ah, shit. Clear the way. Incoming." He appears to fill out a paper as he turns, hefting himself into a chair that creaks under his weight.
Marcus Tous is a small time hustler living in Mutant Town with some oddball ability that makes him about as much of a threat as an Office busybody. His criminal record doesn't exist, but he isn't so unknown to the department. Sleight of build, he's known for calling in many, usually totally unnecessary, nitpicky complaints. So, why is Marcus being brought in for attacking a shop owner? And why is he putting up such a flailing, aggressive resistance? The nasaly-voiced man in his late thirties swings around his wirey legs, refusing to walk cooperatively.
Those are very good questions. "You are the world's worst dance partner right now," Irene complains to Marcus directly, clearly annoyed they even have to bring him in and for all his flailing. Or, attempted flailing, anyway. He is handcuffed and it's /very/ hard for him to wriggle out of her grasp, no matter how hard he tries. Her hold on his arm seems downright unbreakable, for the most part.
There is probably something worth a second look in two, seemingly slender Asian women, hauling in a wiggling suspect. Or there would be, if it wasn't so commonplace in Mutant Affairs. Vega sighs and continues to hold onto her half of Tous with a roll of her eyes. "Mr. Tous, we will drag you if you don't cooperate," she reminds dryly.
"Let me go! You shouldn't do this!" Tous screeches, "I shouldn't BE here!" He repeats the same three phrases as he struggles. It's far from his usual long-winded and quite detailed complaints. "Let me go! You shouldn't do this!" He grits his teeth, eyes bulging wide as he tries to reach and hit Vega with his own skull. A ripple runs through his bulging, Steve Buschemi eyes. It's like the ripple in a pool of water. "I shouldn't BE here!" His hair is wet and he smells like chlorine, but his clothes are dry and ...normal.
There is a reason Vega and Irene often get Ilya to sit in with interrogations with one of them to play the good cop. Because neither of them are very good at that. Evidenced as Irene just talks over Marcus Tous's screeching to tell Vega, "Maybe we should've called a medic before we got he-whoa!" She breaks off, jerking the suspect /away/ from her partner as he tries to lunge and bash her partner with his skull. "Ugh, just stop, alright?" Because /that/ seems likely to make him stop.
"Shit." Vega holds on and holds her ground, but visibly /leans/ back as he tries to slam his skull against her. It's a near miss. "What's up with his eyes? We may need that medic after all. Call one," she orders to one of the other officers on duty. "That's not normal." Squinting, she lifts a hand to catch his jaw to try and get a better look.
"This is Mutant Affairs-murmur, murmur, murmur. We're gonna need a-murmur, murmur, murmur," the cop by the entrance rolls around his head on his neck to speak into his comm. He gives the ladies a nod of solidarity, jumping a little as Tous almost kicks the air near him.
"I shouldn't be HERE." Tous's comically large eyes ripple again, just for a fraction of a second as he becomes increasingly agitated and flaily.
"You ever seen something like this before?" Irene asks, because Vega was in Vice up until about a year ago. She's talking over Tous again, but something about his emphasis catches her ear this time. She sighs heavily as she asks, "Why /shouldn't/ you be here?" Something about her tone suggests she doesn't actually expect to get an answer, but has to ask. "Fff-," she begins a curse, struggling to keep him from flailing around. She can only hold so many limbs at a time, here.
"You know, you keep saying that but if it was a concern you shouldn't have assaulted a shop owner," Vega informs him tersely, dodging a kick of his feet and yanking him down. She holds fast to his jaw. "Nope. This is a new one to me." Her own eyes blink on, capturing the movement on camera to time stamp it. "We need to get him in a holding cell."
A jolt goes through Marc's body, as if suddenly registering the two officers' words for the first time. His body goes slack and weak, like it ought be. "W-why..." He blinks, "What is this place?" His overly large Adam's apple bobs up and down on his spindly, chicken-like neck. "Why are you-" He blinks up at Vega and then to Irene, "Unhand me!" Suddenly, his mind-numbing desperation is replaced with very coherent indignation. "Where is my towel?!" He looks down at his own attire and gives grunt of earnest surprise.
"Uh-huh," Irene agrees about the holding cell. Then Tous suddenly goes slack. "Whoa." The restraining grip suddenly becomes a supportive one, keeping him from spilling into the floor or stumbling overly. She sighs again, exasperated. "You're in the 7th Precinct, Mutant Affairs. You assaulted assaulted someone." This is not this first time this has been explained. "No," she says simply to the request to unhand him, doing the opposite and pushing him towards Holding. "No idea." She glances over at Vega. Towel?
Vega holds on to Tous's jaw for a moment longer, outright staring at him before she releases it. "And he's back... and the first thing you ask about is a towel?" You're being arrested, where are your priorities? She glances towards Irene with a certain incredulousness, meeting those dark eyes with her own and lifting her brows. The hell man?
"Assault! Look at me! I didn't assault anyone!" Marc squeals, elongating his neck to get the maximum projection of his voice. A couple of the other officers have to stifle their laughs. "I want to speak to your supervisors! How did I get in these clothes?! Stop manhandling me! How did I get here! You've drugged me! I've been framed!"
Irene's expression goes very, very bland for a moment. She is not stifling a laugh too or anything. "There is evidence, Mr. Tous." Oh, he's 'Mr. Tous' again now that he seems somewhat more aware of circumstances. "/Someone/ drugged you," she says, ignoring the other questions and requests. Her tone suggests that 'someone' may just be Tous himself. "Just come with us, please. We need to speak to you." Maybe they /can/ pass this to the LT. Wouldn't that be nice.
"What do you last remember, Mr. Tous, that you shouldn't be in these clothes?" Vega wonders, shifting her hold on him slightly. This way please. They try to redirect him towards one of the interrogation rooms.
Although he does physically cooperate, Mr. Tous is extremely verbal about their pace being too quick, their cuffs being too tight, their tones, and every tiny detail he can pick at. "I-I was at the pool. I go to the pool every Thursday around lunchtime. You can ask my neighbor!" He blinks hard, shaking his head, "I was doing my laps-" The man's voice fades the way people's do when they are in deep thought.
There is just no pleasing him. Irene doesn't really try. She moves at the pace she feels is acceptable and doesn't adjust his cuffs. "We will speak to your neighbor," she promises, ushering Tous and her partner into an interrogation room. "If you promise to behave, we can uncuff you. What pool?"
Vega's tone could be described as 'dry'. She briefly murmurs a note of affirmation to Irene's comment, checking the cuffs but not adjusting them. "You were doing you laps..." It's a prompt, a reminder to continue.
"What? I was- I was at the Mutant Town Y! I was in my swimming trunks," Mr. Tous's breathing begins to quicken, "You can ask anyone there. Go there and ask! I talked to people! Ask my neighbor! I talked to a girl there who was doing laps, too! She had fins on her face and I asked her- I asked her if they made her faster-!" His skin where he's being held starts to grow very clammy and he lets out a harsh sound. He's panicking. "How-" "Wha-"
"We will, Mr, Tous. We will go speak to them after we finish speaking to you." That's...either reassuring or worrying, depending. Irene nudges him towards a seat. "Okay, a girl with fins on her face. We'll look for her too. Take a deep breath, Mr. Tous. It's alright." If in the precinct can be considered 'alright'. "We're just asking questions. If you were...drugged or manipulated or something, that's pretty serious." That's a big 'if' still, but it's possible.
"We will also have someone in to look at you for any signs that you have been drugged," Vega says gently, unlocking one of his manacles as they get him seated and reanchoring it to the table. "Can I get you a drink of water while you walk us through it? When did you arrive at the pool?"
"Yes, water. Please. I'm- I'm parched." Tous flops down into the seat with a helpless whimper, hacking as he struggles to calm down. His large eyes wander anywhere but the two intimidating police women. "Test me! Do what you need to do! I'm INNOCENT! I don't- I don't understand how I'm in these clothes," he ventures pathetically, "They're mine. I-I don't... remember." The man blinks hard, shaking his head, "Assaulted someone, you say? I don't- I don't remember doing that." He holds up his own hands, examining his own bloodied knuckles. "My-my eyes hurt." His shaky fingertips come up to graze his eyes, "They ache. Is that? What could that be?"
Once Tous is seated and situated, Irene takes a seat across from him. She nods at Vega, in a nonverbal okay of the water suggestion/request. "So they are your clothes, but you don't remember getting dressed? What is the very last thing you remember before you got here? Take your time." She tries not to press him too hard while he's panicking. "Yes, you did." Assault someone, that is. She tilts her head just to the side, watching Tous carefully for a long moment. "Why do you think they might hurt?"
Irene's nod is answered shortly as Vega meets her dark eyes with her own, leaving her partner to handle the situation for the moment at her okay. She slips out of the room quietly to collect the drink, returning after a few minutes.
"I," Tous starts, gulping dryly, "I was swimming. I-I came to..." He closes his eyes to remember. "I came to the wall and put my hand up-" He lifts his hand, as if places it on the edge of a pool for balance, "And I turned to that, that fish girl and I asked her about her fins." Tous is pointing now, jabbing a finger at the air as if he's pointing at the girl in his story. Opening his eyes with a flutter, "I don't know why they hurt, maybe one of /you people/ maced me unnecessarily!"
"Mhm." Irene is largely quiet while Tous speaks, letting him explain in his own words in his own time. She is more patient than she looks. "Okay, so the last thing you remember was speaking to the girl," she confirms with a nod. They'll definitely want to speak to her, if they can find her. "I assure you, Mr. Tous, you were not maced by us," she explains, calmly.
The door opens quietly as Vega enters, shutting it gently behind her as she moves to the interrogation table. She sets the glass down next to Tous with a tip of her bows upward at Irene. Maced? They might say. Otherwise she is silent, moving to lean against the wall rather than sit.
Tous turns up what amount of chin he does have on his otherwise slack, tubular shaped head, "The fact of the matter is, I can't be sure if you did or did not." He slaps his hand down, "You know what. I want my phone call. I want my lawyer!" ...incidentally his lawyer is also his neighbor.
Well, that's that. For now. Irene glances over at Vega briefly, then pushes her chair out and stands. "Fine. We'll have the medic see to you in the meanwhile." It's...totally in kindness and not evidence gathering? Whatever, he's getting a phonecall and his lawyer (which he'll need). "Enjoy your water."
Pushing off the wall with a boot, Vega nods as Irene stands and follows her partner out. She regards Tous, and more specifically his eyes, with a brief look of interest before exiting just after Irene. "I miss anything interesting?" She asks once the door is closed behind them.
Tous quickly snatches the water, clutching it tightly as he brings it to his mouth. His eyes dart around the room. "Agh, is this tap," he mumbles to himself.
Irene is chuckling quietly to herself as the door closes. It's not very nice. More seriously, she looks at Vega. "Define interesting." So that's a 'no' then. She shakes her head. "We have a pool to visit and a fish-girl to find, basically. He doesn't remember much. Everything after the pool appears to be gone, for whatever reason. He might even be telling the truth."
Precinct's /finest/ tap water. "Well..." Vega drags out the word and gives her fingers a ripple through the air. "More twilight zone eyes and less his usual...self," she says with a tip of her head. Irene's answer causes her nod shortly. "It is outside of his standard M.O. We'll check video feeds and see if we can pull a visual on her to corroborate." Mouth twisting, she glances back over her shoulder at the interrogation room door. "If he is telling the truth... why just go attack? We'll have to double check to see if anything was taken from the victim or if there were any prior issues."
"More what eyes?" Irene misses the reference. "Nevermind." She doesn't care. "Yeah, we'll do that." All of that. So much of that. This has the feeling of something with a lot of work and little payoff to it. "If there are even video feeds or anyone who wants to corroborate..." Oh, Mutant Town. So unhelpful. "I have no idea. Why do people on drugs do any of the things they do? Or mind control. Or...something else." She shrugs. "I guess let's go find out."
Sighing Vega looks to the dingy ceiling of the precinct for strength. "I will send you episodes. Don't watch them before bed," she bemoans of her partner to her partner. You're killing her Irene. She snorts softly at the assessment of Mutant Town. "We'll see..." Off they go to cop it up. And get Tous his phonecall and lawyer.Mr. Tous reamins in custody following his phone call. This is largely in part due to his neighbor, the lawyer, absolutely despising the man. Although the employees at the gym do recall seeing Mr. Tous on his usual day, they have no specific memory of a girl matching what Marc Tous described. (Fish fins, strawberry blonde hair.) Video feed shows the girl coming and going from the gym, but the angles don't offer much help. She could be anyone.