doris crockford likes to help (ex_smuggles569) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2009-03-26 15:54:00 |
|
|||
Doris folded her arms over her chest and stared at the young witch in front of her. Another three days wasted, she foresaw. This was stupid. She had no idea why she had been brought in, but expected that the woman would explain that to her in good enough time. It had better not be something completely trivial, really. Though maybe this could be fun. Maybe the girl was a "good cop" type thing, like in the Muggle cinema. Maybe she'd make it easy on both of them. But still, three days was a lot of time to be away from her friends in Doris's mind. She didn't speak, merely watched the girl in front of her (who had to be younger than she was, was she really old enough to be in law enforcement?) and waited for this to be explained in it's entirety. Angelica sighed quietly, but heavily, as she watched the woman sitting across from her. Doris Crockford, apprehended under orders of one of her new "superiors," Demetrius Mulciber. The memo to apprehend Crockford hadn't come in on pink kitten stationery, which was part of the reason Angelica had been willing to actually go out and do it (the other part being that she had absolutely no interest whatsoever in spending more time in the office than necessary lately). Of course, she had a pretty good idea that Doris was not affiliated with the "foreign terrorists" or anything along those lines, but it was procedure. "Ms. Crockford," she finally said after a long moment, looking down at her file as she spoke. "I think we would both like this to end quickly, so I'll be as frank and to the point as I can. Do you have any idea why I brought you here today?" Angelica glanced up again, raising an eyebrow inquisitively as she did so. Clicking her tongue a bit impatiently, she shrugged. "There are plenty of things I could think of that I won't name for fear of incriminating myself further," she said briskly. She knew what she was doing. She wasn't going to talk circles around the girl, but she wasn't going to get herself into any more trouble than she already was in. "You're going to have to tell me, Miss. That'll make this a lot faster than me giving you a laundry list of potential crimes." It was true. Things she could be brought in on were numerous. Things she could have gotten caught doing were less numerous. So she looked at the blonde expectantly. Angelica felt a slight urge to smile, but fought it down. Generally speaking, people saw her as more of a "good hitwitch" because of her blonde hair and pretty face, and showing an ounce of leniency did nothing to help that image. Instead, she frowned at Ms. Crockford. "Such a cavalier attitude towards breaking the law is rather unbecoming," Angelica pointed out crisply. "On this specific occasion, I've been ordered to arrest and question you as a person of interest in the recent break-ins that have taken place across England, largely due to your public connection with known Ministry saboteur and terrorist Octavius Pepper." The lie had long ago stopped causing bile to rise in her throat. "Let's start with that, shall we? What is the nature of your relationship to Mr. Pepper?" "I don't worry much about being becoming," Doris said flippantly. Oh, that. Doris had a bit of a laugh when she heard the question. "Pepper and I have been friends since we were twelve, Miss, and him being accused of terrorism hasn't changed that a bit. We joke around a lot. I know no more about the break-ins the other week than any other person on the street would." "Hmm," Angelica hummed thoughtfully. "Generally speaking, I'd say that when the accusation is truth, one should avoid public contact with such a person if one wishes to stay out of here." She waved her hand to indicate the interrogation room in which they were seated. "Have you had any face-to-face contact with Mr. Pepper in the recent weeks, beyond that which we know took place in the journals? We'll return to the events of the twenty-sixth in just a moment." "Oh well," Doris said stubbornly. This maddening fear campaign wouldn't deter her, that was certain. Pepper was just Pepper to her anyway. "Recent weeks? No. I haven't actually seen Peppy in months," she said flippantly, the nickname slipping out rather accidentally. "We've just had a few random conversations here and there." "Has he given you any information regarding his whereabouts? Did he give any indication of his recent political leanings or any plans of his regarding vandalism or acts of terrorism?" It was pretty obvious that this Crockford woman, even if she knew anything, wasn't going to talk. Angelica still kept her eye on her detainee, just in case her instinct was wrong, but the casual use of such a strange pet name for Pepper (or "Peppy" as the case may have been) made it fairly clear that no matter what Ms. Crockford did or didn't know...a simple line of questioning wouldn't bring it out of her. Truth be told, that wasn't really Angelica's problem at the end of the day; it was more her new bosses' problem. Not, of course, that you would catch her saying that out loud. "No. I have no idea where he is or what he's been doing," she said flatly. This was mostly true, she hadn't really asked Pepper where he was, she hadn't asked him if he had been involved with the vandalism at all. They had just talked the way they talked. If that wasn't obvious to her detaining officer yet, it would be by the end of this chat. "You look pretty young for this job," Doris added conversationally. Angelica's lip curled slightly at the mention of her age, but otherwise, she didn't acknowledge the woman's words. This interrogation had nothing to do with her. "Ms. Crockford, where were you the night of the nineteenth of March, one week ago?" she asked in her most disinterested tone. The whole thing was increasingly ludicrous; Crockford obviously had only a very loose connection to the former DMLE and most likely had nothing to do with the incidents on the night of the nineteenth. Angelica was wasting her time. She pondered this. "I was visiting my Grandmother, she lives in Wales," she said frankly. "My brother is staying with her, so I stayed the night over there because we haven't spent much time together lately." This was the truth, there was no point in making up a story when the real story would work so wonderfully. "Even though there's no connection, I'm stuck here for three days anyway right?" she asked. "Standard procedure and all? Unless that's been changed too." Making a note of the woman's response, Angelica nodded quickly. "We'll have to look into this claim, most likely, speak with your grandmother and brother, but yes, if your story checks out, you'll only be here for three days," she answered, finally looking back up at Ms. Crockford. Such a flippant attitude towards the law was problematic, but people with that sort of attitude usually ended up arrested and more permanently detained sooner or later. She seemed genuinely not guilty in this case, and Angelica couldn't justify holding her longer than the standard three days, though she imagined that one of her new superiors would have a problem with that. So she stood up to leave. "I'll walk you back to your holding cell now; someone will likely come by to release you in about three days, and there will just be some brief paperwork for you to fill out." "Alright," she said, standing up. She ran a hand through her blond hair and yawned slightly. This whole business was stupid and rather unpleasant at best. "The paperwork is the worst," she joked as they walked back towards the holding cells. |