jdcartwright (jdcartwright) wrote in birthrightrpg, @ 2021-12-10 11:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | jd cartwright |
Medium rare, no, rare, no ... blue
Who: JD
Where: His office, LVPD
What: Switch plot
When: Now
"So can you give us a hand with the interview?" they'd asked.
"Sure," JD had replied, and an hour later he was still sitting opposite the suspect, a smug smile on the guy's face that JD had become familiar with. The detective stood up from his chair, stretching his arms above his head and rolling his head from one side to the other before walking slowly in a lap around the room, hands on his hips, stopping in front of the two-way mirror and watching the suspect's face in the reflection.
"You're right, it's all circumstantial evidence," he started to say as a strange feeling washed over him. A small crease formed, a frown for a moment as JD squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose and inhaling deeply as his ears started to ring. A few seconds later the ringing stopped, replaced by a soft thud, like a heart beat. He released the grip his fingers had and stared at himself in the mirror, the frown still there, but now it was puzzlement. Something was different. He stared for a few seconds, but couldn't place it. Then he looked at the man still seated at the table, and that smug grin.
"But we're still looking, and we will find what we need." He slowly turned back and returned to the chair he'd been occupying and sat down again, leaning back in it so the front feet lifted from the ground a little. His eyes came to rest on the suspect, and he fixed him in his gaze.
"So really your best choice is to tell me exactly what happened, confess, as once we find the weapon with your fingerprints, and you know we will, all bets are off." The end of the sentence was punctuated with the sound of the chair legs hitting the floor as JD rocked forward and leant on his arms on the table, his eyes still fixed on the suspect.
On the other side of the glass one of the junior detectives heard himself saying "I didn't mean to, I mean, the machine spat out two extra candy bars, and I just pocketed them!" before he realised it. His confusion, and that on the faces of the two other detectives in the room was soon replaced with surprise as the suspect's voice started to sound through the speakers on the wall. The older detective in the room quickly checked, the blinking lights on the recording machines were continuing steadily, faithfully recording the full confession of the perpetrator in the interview room on the other side of the glass.
A half hour later a rather satisfied JD was pulling on his coat and heading to his car, a smug grin on his face, but a whirl of questions in his head. From the time he'd walked out of the interview room his hearing had been almost headache-inducing acute. Hearing the pulse of the desk sergeant was almost off-putting, especially the way it rose as he gave her a smile and said goodnight. And the number of times he'd overheard conversations in the squad room as he'd finished up the paperwork on the interview he'd just done had been more than a little disconcerting - he really hadn't known that Hughes and Belmont were having an affair, and was pretty damned sure he didn't want to know, but now couldn't unhear what he'd heard.
Driving out of the parking lot he knew, for the first time in a long time, what he wanted for dinner. A steak. A large, juicy, rare... no blue steak.