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The Enigma
It hadn't been a day like any other. Alex never expected to land a mystery on her first day. There was little she could do in the actual search for the place, but if Mr. Gregory was the man who had this girl at some point, she could probably help build a case against him. It made Alex wonder what else he had done, or was capable of. But the fact that his emotions had been unreadable and then clear to her was a mystery to her. And the whole unseen force. There was far more to him than to anyone she'd ever interviewed.

They were keeping him in holding, drugged up. Chief Inspector Drayson's orders. He didn't seem all too concerned about the display, but every other person she walked passed was in whispers and hushed voices over the anomaly. Only a handful had actually saw the thing, but that didn't mean the office wasn't all a buzz over it.

The holding cells were as drab as the interrogation room, except for there were a few more comforts of home. If you could call a lumpy cot hanging from the wall a comfort. Alex had never actually been on the other side of the bars, and she hoped to never know for sure the comforts of such a place.

The gray pant suit she wore was slightly wrinkled from the days sitting. She'd tried to stretch them out before making her way to see Mr. Gregory, but there was little to be done.

Her footsteps echoed that classic high heeled tap as she walked down the concrete floors. Alex reached her senses out to how many people were in listening distance as stopped at the edge of the cell Dane was being kept in.

Alex dragged a chair from the nearby watch station and sat it in front of the bars holding back the man who was an enigma to her. She made sure she was far enough away from grabby hands, which put the back of the chair almost to the wall. "I'm Dr. Pirozzi. I was hoping to speak with you Mr. Gregory."
It wasn't really a choice, but being polite was far more helpful that just getting to the point of it all. She really didn't know what she was looking for, but she knew there were answers to be found.

Edited by Alex, Jun 12 2014, 10:08 AM.
The sound of high heels clacked on the flooring beyond the bars.

Dane shifted in the ghastly bunk. Springs squeaked, and Dane flipped onto his side.

The bars blurred until his eyes could focus beyond them. They finally settled on a woman. Mature, intelligent. Not a detective. Plain.

"I'm Dr. Pirozzi. I was hoping to speak with you Mr. Gregory."

Lord Gregory would be more fitting, but he didn't correct her. So she hoped to speak with him. Unusual choice of phrasing. If she opened her mouth and spewed a few more harsh words then she'd fulfill her own hopes.

Dane remained where he was, his cheek was nice and nestled against his pillow.

His cheek squeezed into the pillow when he smiled, "Dr. Pirozzi. Allow me to be the fulfillment of your hopes. As I am Mister Gregory, and I am listening."

"Dr. Pirozzi. Allow me to be the fulfillment of your hopes. As I am Mister Gregory, and I am listening."
Alex smiled as she took her seat. He wasn't off to a great start.

She watched as he lay on the uncomfortable looking cot seemingly uncaring, like he wasn't too worried about anything. He felt pretty much the same way. But then again he was drugged, Alex supposed the fact that he was willing to talk at all was probably a good thing.

It was a very different situation this time. He was not quite an open book, but she could at least read him. "Mr. Gregory, Do you know where you are? or why you are here?"
It was a simple question, but it could say volumes. Alex didn't particularly care about the where, but the why was always key.

Dane watched the way the good doctor sat. As far from the bars as possible, like she were afraid of sitting within arm's reach. Little did she realize he need not lift so much as a finger to touch her.

While he watched the ceiling, he reached for the power, but the familiar pang of a headache flashed through his mind. He ceased trying. For now.

He replied calmly. His accent fluttered like hummingbirds.

"At the moment, Dr. Pirozzi, I believe I am laying in a cell in a CDPS station, although I am unclear as to exactly which precinct this one is, as I am still unfamiliar with many areas of Moscow. As to why I am here, I believe it is because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Can you tell me if my friend Thalia is okay? We were suppose to have dinner tonight."

Actual disappointment that naturally went along with a date broken dampened his spirits. Also natural for any red-blooded man, images filled his mind: of Thalia, of course. Although the specifics of their circumstances were likely unique to Mockingbird alone.
The wrong place at the wrong time. That was an understatement. Alex wondered if he had any connection to the hair they found in his pocket and his situation. He was calm and centered. It was disturbing.

The mention of the other witness, he felt a sort of fondness towards her and disappointment at the broken date. For some reason that just felt wrong to her. "Ms. Milton is fine that I'm aware of. She is cleared to go home as soon as her interview was over."
Alex remembered Dane's indication that he found her attractive. But his feelings afterwards were not one of a normal person.

He was a concerning individual. "You don't think that the hair from Mr. Little Bird and the missing girl has any reason for you being in this cell?"
The potential assault on Dane Gregory is what kept him in the cell. Suspicion of greater things kept him here as well, but they could only keep him for so long. Alex wasn't sure this was a man that needed to walk the streets.
He believed the hair had everything to do with being in a cell rather than out on his date with Thalia. He could see her getting ready at home: Thalia brushing her luxurious hair, Thalia pulling on her sundress.

That annoying Doctor woman was still bugging him with questions that should have obvious answers. He wondered what her name was.

"The hair, yes. That is what the Chief Inspector said, too."
He wanted to roll away. This doctor was boring as she was ugly.
Alex could sense that he was getting annoyed. That was probably not a good state for him to be in, but she couldn't fathom what was annoying. It was a simple question. She took the picture from the file folder she was carrying. It was the same picture the Chief Inspector had given him. "I'm sorry if you've already answered these questions. But I do have my reasons for asking you. Do you know her?"

Dane sighed and rolled his head. The good doctor held up a picture of the bitch and asked him a question. As he had with Drayson, he looked over the woman's face, though not quite as closely as he had the day before. "Yes. The Chief Inspector showed me her picture yesterday. Was that yesterday? Its hard to keep track of time."
He rubbed his forehead.

Alex smiled, trying to alleviate some of his annoyance. "It's still the same day. I'm sure it's the lighting that's making you feel like more time has passed.
It was darker and never fully illuminated, it had it's purposes. "I didn't mean from yesterday, from before. Did you know her before? Seen her before? Anywhere other than her in the station?

The lighting? For a doctor, she was little aware of what was going on with his case. He recalled the three officers coming at him, a flash of pain and darkness. When he woke there was a pinprick on his arm and fog in his head. Couldn't, perhaps, that have something to do with the pace of time? His eyes fell back to the portrait of the girl. "No, I did not. And I anticipate that you're going to next inquire about the hair as did the Chief Inspector."

"How did it get there?"
She knew she'd get a cryptic answer, but she wanted to hear his more than obvious reply.

He knew she had to ask the question. She was police, and police frowned upon people carrying hair around. Dane had an official story, of course, that he would tell once he'd spoken with the family's lawyer. The preen little man was flying to Moscow as they spoke. "Because I put it in my pocket."
He gauged the doctor's reaction to the overly literal answer.

Alex laughed. Well duh.
It wasn't a professional reply, and she only mildly regretted it. "And I'm sure you just picked it up off the ground and pocketed it. Let's for get the girl for now. Why did you put it in your pocket?

God she was an idiot. For a doctor, one would think a woman needed a shred of intelligence to get into medical school. Then again, perhaps he expected too much of a woman? Perhaps he bought the hair? Maybe he stole it from the hair salon she gets her hair cut at? She could have gifted him a lock of her hair, like a Lady to the Knights of old. The irritation at the doctor's stupidity tightened in his chest. "I put it in my pocket so it would always be with me. This isn't the deep, philosophical conversation I expected to have with an expert like yourself."

He really did like to state the obvious, this was going to be difficult. "Why did you always want it with you?"
Alex could feel the disappointment, but he as only stating obvious answers. It was getting a tad annoying. But she couldn't let him get to her, even if he was getting rude.

Finally, perhaps the doctor was getting to the meat of the matter. He pushed from the bunk and stretched. The station had stripped him of his lovely English attire and put him in a pair of scratchy khakis and a white t-shirt that he'd nicely tucked in. He crossed to the bars and peered out at the doctor. He held her gaze. Studied her hair. Afterward, he replied softly. "I think black hair is pretty."

Alex didn't flinch when he approached the bars. She hoped that the drugs would actually stop him from using whatever it was he'd done to the officers before. "Any particular reason why? Someone you know, a memory from your youth?"

He thought for a second, and absently shook his head. "Think of what type of man you're interested in, doctor, and ask yourself why."

Was it really that simple, an attraction? But it was hard to get a straight answer from him. "So a dark haired woman is your idle lover?"
Alex wondered if there was more to it. "And our victim here has nothing to do with your desires? Just some random hair you found?

"If you're asking whether I find dark haired women attractive, yes, I do. Although, my apologies, but I hardly think its any of your business."
He idly gripped the bar like he were holding himself up.

She had offended him. Alex nodded. "I suppose that's true. But the girl is my business. She's dead. You have her hair. One who thought lightly about it would think you had something to do with it. You ripped a lock of hair from Mr. Little Bird's head. So I say you saw this girl alive. You knew her. Mr. Gregory, I think you are capable of very dangerous things. Some how, you threw an officer away from you. Talking to me could be your only hope.
She was getting slightly angry, she hoped it didn't show through.

Dane was a master at reading others. How else would he guess what anyone else wanted from him? The doctor spoke a few words faster than before. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Even her posture was subtly different. Was he finally crawling under her skin? He hoped so. Yes, yes he believed he was. He did not respond, otherwise, but to continue to look at her.

He didn't respond, she also hasn't asked a question. So she turned to the other curiosity, the real curiosity. She took a deep breath and smiled, he wouldn't get to her. She knew that was what he wanted. "Can you tell me how you did that? Throw the officer across the room?

At least the topic was more interesting. How he was special. His smile was cool. "If you push a man hard enough, he will go across a room. I hope the dear man is okay, but I did ask him not to touch me."

He liked this topic, at least it might get more than obvious answers. "He is fine. But you didn't touch him.
Alex stood up and took a step closer. "I saw you rip yourself away from them, and THEN he went flying.

"You must have been mistaken." He dismissed her. "Because it doesn't make sense."

There are many things in this world that do not make sense. Trust me I know very well."
Alex debated with herself if she should reveal the truth. Would it be worth it? For now she'd not say she was special. "I have seen a great many things, men who can feel what you feel, manipulate you at the mere touch. I've seen it.

Dane barked a laugh and turned away. "Perhaps you're the one that needs a psychologist, Doctor."

She smiled. "You'd think so wouldn't you? I can read you like a book Mr. Gregory. I know you think you are special. I know that the girl was something more than just a random thing. I saw it when you first saw the picture with the Chief Inspector."

Dane returned to the cot and laid back down. "I'm not feeling very well, doctor."

Alex nodded, and it was done, at least for now. "Have it your way Mr. Gregory. I will be back, when you are feeling better."
It was possible, but she didn't think so, he was just done.
The next morning Alex arrived to work early. She had a few more things she wanted to talk to Mr. Gregory about. But she had to prepare her notes. This time she was going to go after a different angle. He was reluctant to say anything with out his lawyer about the case, which was to be expected. But hopefully he'd talk more about himself, his past self and the things that lead up to the train.

Alex wished she could ask for lightening the dosage he was on, but it seemed to prevent him from whatever powers he had. She still wanted to figure that out. But she doubted that she'd find any answers from him alone. Maybe Chief Inspector Drayson could tell her more about them, but that was for later, now to understand the enigma that was Dane Gregory.

But she did request that he be put in a room a little more comfortable for the next interview. She was in the small office with two relatively comfortable chairs. Sadly a table sat between them that was bolted to the ground, they had refused to leave him without the handcuffs when the officers left Mr. Gregory in her care.

Alex apologized, "I'm sorry, they won't let you be more comfortable."
Alex started slowly at first. Starting with his family. "Tell me about your family?
Alex prompted other questions to try to get him to speak more on the subject. What are they like? Your mother? father? Did you have any siblings? Is there anyone else who meant anything to you in your life? Grand parents? Girlfriend? Boyfriend? While she doubted the last from his interview with the Chief Inspector, she asked anyway?
The family's lawyer, Charles Woodson, was a shriveled old man in a gray pinstripe suit. There was more gray than orange in his hair. His hands were knotted and tight, used to paperwork. His eyes narrowed and focused, used to long hours at the computer.

Dane rarely thought about his family other than to recall what they should have been. Thousands of miles away and he was still shaming their good name. Such was why their personal J.D. met him straight from his flight for a good deal of time that morning.

"You haven't been charged as of yet, Mister Gregory,"
Charles did not look up from his work. Dane stared at a mark on the wall just above the man's shoulder. "The statute of time by which they can hold you on suspicions only will lapse in the next few hours. I anticipate you'll be released at that time."

There was a long pause, and Dane realized the man had stopped talking on purpose. Charles was fixed upon Dane, jaw tight, eyes shrewd. He reminded Dane of his father. "Mister Gregory, your father and my employer, has instructed me to deliver a message to you:"

Dane held up a hand. "Allow me to venture a guess, Mister Woodson?"

Charles blinked at Dane's eerie smile.

"'Leave the hair alone.'? Is that the message?"

Charles' gaze narrowed, and when he nodded, Dane drifted once more. This time, he stared through the pages of memory rather than a spot on the wall.

He ignored Charles' response.

"Yes, that's the message."


He was taken to meet the good doctor again. Apparently she wished to chat more with him, and in this desire, Dane was eager to meet.

His hands were cuffed, but he laid them in his lap. He sat to a bolted chair, but he crossed his legs.

The questions were typical of a psychiatrist:
"What kind of childhood did you have?"

But his answer did not please Dr. Pirozzi. "I was shorter then."

She was more specific. "You were boarded for school through primary and secondary, how did you feel about that?"

"For holiday, I sometimes returned home, and I sometimes traveled with the school. I didn't care which."

"What subjects did you prefer?"

"The subjects I excelled at."
He smiled, that was to say, he preferred them all. "But I am fond of singing. I was in the boys choir until fourteen. I play piano too."

Her question into his love life gave him pause. "I take it from your question you are inquiring into my history of romantic relationships."
He enjoyed correcting a psychiatrist. "Alas, I had few as a boy. I was quite shy."
He thought of Thalia then. She was a normal woman that Dane might pursue: sweet, delicate-featured, and artistic.

"Are you currently engaged in any sexual relationships?"

Dane held onto the doctor's gaze as though asking her how literal her intent. He shifted in the silence, uncrossing and recrossing his legs. "No, but then again, I am not at my most charming."
He tried to put the doctor at ease by pointing out his current situation was not the most flattering. If she had met him elsewhere on the street or in a bar, he might have approached her.

"I mean, Mister Gregory, are you sexually active?"

Although the question spanned a spectrum of interpretations, his mind immediately darted to Aria and their mutual friend. "Yes. I suppose I am."
He was being honest.

Of course she was interested in hearing more. "And what is the nature of that relationship?"

Dane looked down, not ashamed nor hiding, but because he enjoyed fondling those memories. Aria and he would very much like to show her, someday. Someday.

"Very normal, doctor."

After a long pause, Dr. Pirozzi cleared her throat. "Are you alright, Mister Gregory?"
She asked.

Dane slowly turned his back to face her.

"Yes, I'm fine, Doctor."

"How are you?"

Edited by Dane Gregory, Jun 27 2014, 02:46 PM.
The man was infuriating. Obvious answers to the questions, that didn't actually tell you anything. He was an excellent charmer and manipulator. Alex knew that he had issues, but she knew it would take much more time than these few little interviews to get down to the bottom of it. But it didn't matter, he was not safe on the streets, but he was likely to be released soon.

Alex was not surprised by his evasive answers, but when he answered a question honestly she was a bit surprised. There was no denying that he had a relationship he enjoyed. But from the large pondering of his own thoughts, Alex knew it wasn't a normal relationship, she wished she could get deeper inside his head. It could very well be part of his issues.

Alex wondered how much more he'd answer now that he had gotten his mind wrapped around something else. But Alex ignored his question, she was fine, but this wasn't about her. She continued her questions.

"Do you think sex is important? intimacy? friendship? Is any of it important to you."

There was a knock at the door. Alex turned to see an officer interrupt. "Someone's here to see Mr. Gregory. Do you me to make her wait?"

Someone was here to see him, outside his lawyer? That was a curiosity. "No, you can bring her here. I think I can wait for them to talk."
She of course would be listening in to the feelings, outside the door. It was a shame they weren't in an interrogation room with the two way mirror. It would be good to watch Mr. Gregory and his friend - assuming she is a friend.

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