powrsthatscrewu (powrsthatscrewu) wrote in ministers_grace,
powrsthatscrewu
powrsthatscrewu
ministers_grace

VOOT ZHOOT VOOT! (My approximation of the sound the cut-scene things make.)

Scene II: Parking Lot Outside Union Station (Night)

Police have roped off a 50' perimeter within the parking lot, much to the consternation and chagrin of the owners of the cars parked within that area. "Look," a beat cop tries to explain to the small mob of suburbanites. "It's just going to be about half an hour, our crime scene people just need to do their job and then you're free to get in your cars and go home." The officer's assurance seems lost on the mob, who all try to shout their various reasons why THEY need to leave more than everyone else over each other.

A 1996 Chrysler Sebring pulls up to the scene, and out steps...


((Open for Kate))
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I stepped out of my vehicle. I surveyed the area and saw an officer on the other side of the parking lot. I ducked under the police tape and went over to talk to him.

"Kate Lockley, L.A.P.D.," I flashed my badge. "I'm here about the murders. Which was probably pretty obvious." I looked around nervously. "Sure got a crowd tonight,huh?"
"Oh, yeah. Mr. and Mrs. Suburbia might miss the beginning of Survivor." the officer takes another look at the badge, then back to the lady. "Homicide, huh? Well, get what you can from the thing quick. The Feds're waiving their jursidictions around on this one and coming to 'take charge of the situation' any minute now. I think they've been delayed picking out their Power Ties."

"Yeah, wouldn't want let a silly thing like a murder investigation get in the way of good fashion sense. Is there anything you can tell me?" I pulled out my notepad and pen. Even if he didn't have anything to say I'm sure I could find something around here.
"Anonymous tip to the Crimestoppers line, plates matched the ones on the missing Border Patrol Jeep from the papers. Apparently, it was just parked here and left. Feds're saying it's their case, we're just babysitting the thing til they get here...and pissing off a bunch of people."

At the back of the crowd, a straw hat begins wending it's way through to the front. "Ok, people, move it, Freedom of the Press here!"

The cop hisses "Davis," then grumbles something that wouldn't likely make it to air as you can now see the press pass sticking out of his hatband. Hard to miss, actually, since he's pointing it out to everyone as he shoves them aside. "Outta the way! The people have a right to know!" he says as he makes his way through the faces and into yours.
"Hey there, Detective Locksley," says the reporter as he casually lifts up the police tape and steps into the scene. "Bob Davis, LA Times," he says as if this is the first time you've met. "Just following up on my cover story about the dead Border guards."

Without even asking, he sticks a micro-recorder in your face. "Heard about the jeep on my scanner. Does the LAPD have a suspect yet?"
"It's Lockley, Kate Lockley. You might want to get that right for your report. And to the best of my knowledge, no, the LAPD does not have a suspect yet."
"Lockley," he says thoughtfully, stuffing the recorder into his shirt pocket and taking out a notepad and scrawling it down, muttering "Lockley..."

"Ok, Detective Lockley...Kate. So, is it reasonable to assume that the killer or killers are still at large in Los Angeles?"
"At this point, Mr. Davis, I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to comment."

The truth was even if was at liberty to comment he probably knew more than me.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a job to do."
"Oh, not at all. Don't mind me, Detective Lockley." He gives his pen a few clicks and continues writing. "I'm just going to take a look around."

He pulls a digital camera from out of the bag and seems intent on following you around. "So, Kate, how safe WOULD you say the citizens of LA are going to be til these guys are caught?"
"Off the record," I smiled."I can tell you that at this moment,I truly believe the greatest threat the citizens of LA face,is reading overblown reports from guys like you, and putting themselves in a state of panic. We have things under control. Now if you would please wait behind the barrier, I'm sure you can get all sorts of photos from there."
The Uniform who's been dealing with the crowd all this time spots his cue and steps between you two, "helping" Davis back to the other side of the line.

"Does this mean dinner's out?" Bob shouts as he secures his notepad and starts snapping pictures.
I shook my head and looked to the ground. Press.

I found myself walking up to the cop who was fighting off the crowd. "So, the plates here match those off the victims' vehicle? I know it's a long shot,and you've obviously had a rough night, but is there anything you could tell me?"

powrsthatscrewu

12 years ago

_kate_lockley

12 years ago

powrsthatscrewu

12 years ago

_kate_lockley

12 years ago

powrsthatscrewu

12 years ago

_kate_lockley

12 years ago

Further examination of the rear bumper indicates a white, powdery residue and deep scratches in the chrome on the bumper. Something big and heavy was dragged out of the back of the Jeep.
The Uniform that you've been talking with approaches you and leans inward to talk to you quietly.

"Checked with Station Security. They said it's gonna take'em a couple hours to get the tapes together. Meantime, the Feds just showed up."
"Oh,great. You don't suppose these guys are gonna be cooperative now do you?"

I flashed a smile and quickly jotted down the rest of what I had found.

Powdery white residue,scratches on chrome on bumper,seems to indicate large object, person? dragged out rear

I waited for those wonderful FBI guys to make their way over. I prepared my badge and got ready to explain I wasn't going anywhere.
The feds are getting out of their vehicles and making a big show of letting the crowd know "The Pros" have arrived.

Feeling their aura of smug-bastardity from here, the thought occurs that it shouldn't take "a couple hours" to get the surveillance videos from less than 24 hours ago. They should be right in front of the guard and easy to bring up.
I turned to the cop who'd been helping? me. Well, not, not helping anyway.

"Hey, help a girl out? Could you take me to the security guard on duty?" I looked back at the feds, "And fast."

I gave an awkward smile.

"Don't worry I think they've got crowd control, or at least crowd... entertainment under control."
The uniform gives a smile at that, as the soccer moms have a new target for their anger. "Sure thing, Detective," he says with a grin. "Let's let The Experts handle this."

He leads you into the Station, a few flashes of tin, and you're brought to the security desk. The uniform points out a portly fellow in "not quite cop" blue clothes and cap with a clip-on tie. "That's him. If ya need me, Detective, I'll be out front watching the show. Oh, and if you come back out, could ya hit the newsstand and bring some popcorn?"

"Sure."

I turned to the security guard.

"Excuse me,Kate Lockley,LAPD. I was wondering if you could just run the tapes from last 24 hours by for me, you never know, there might be something. Actually skip the last couple hours, this probably happened before we declared this a crime scene. Of course this is LA, you never know." I smiled.
"Oh. Um, sorry, like I told the other officer, it's gonna take a couple hours to get those together."

(("He's hiding something," your Cop Sense tells you.))
"Look Sir, It's obvious you're hiding something. You can either tell me what that is or I can arrest you."

I hoped he'd be cooperative. I really didn't need to pull my gun. I was investigating a crime scene. This was supposed to be a slow paced night. Do I get slow paced nights?

I waited for his response.
He starts shaking at the mention of being arrested and...is that a wet spot forming on his pants?

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry!" He looks down at his feet, very much like a child who's been caught being naughty.

"This reporter guy gave me two hundred bucks to let him go copy the tapes. He...he said he'd bring 'em right back. He gave me his card and everything."

He takes the card out of his shirt pocket and holds it out for you to take it, but something tells you whose name is going to be on it, anyway.
"Thanks."

I took the card although I already knew who's it was. Figured the phone number and address would be there.

"Did he by any chance say where he'd be? And don't worry I have more important things than you to deal with, just if he comes back let the cop out there know."
The guard gives a sigh of relief as you read the card:

Bob Davis
Los Angeles Times


The address and phone number are below.

"He said he was just heading to the newspaper office to copy them and be right back. Honest."
Time to give Mr. Davis a ring. Maybe take him up on that dinner offer. Or something like that.

As I eyed the card in my hand I turned to the security guard.

"Okay, um... Could I borrow your phone for a minute?"

I attempted a friendly smile as I waited for a reply.

powrsthatscrewu

12 years ago

_kate_lockley

12 years ago

powrsthatscrewu

12 years ago

_kate_lockley

12 years ago

powrsthatscrewu

12 years ago

_kate_lockley

12 years ago