Interview with Crowley

January 16, 2016:

Scott visits One Police Plaza to discuss Doctor McCoy's disappearance. Things go about as well as one would think.

One Police Plaza

One Police Plaza is a large, rectangular building designed in the
brutalist style and serves as the headquarters of the New York City Police
Department. Thirteen floors high and several more underground, it not only
functions as the seat of the departments administrative offices but also
houses various units of the NYPD including the Major Case Squad and
Extranormal Investigations, both of which are part of the Special
Investigations Division.


NPCs: None.

Mentions: Beast

Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

One Police Plaza - to Scott Summers, it might as well be the lion's den. The thought of coming here to speak with the detecitves assigned to the case of the missing doctor ghave him a chill - but Betsy and he agreed - inviting them to the Institute wouldn't do. The only comfort he had was that the lead detective was also known to be close to Kurt, which was little true comfort. There's a frown on his face as he walks the halls of the station with a patrol escort, feeling the judgemental stares upon him. Of course he's a known quanity to them, his daughter was a known terrorist.

He just remains standing tall, allowing his convictions to be his guide as he's lead to the interview room where he will be speaking to Detective Crowley about Hank.

"Mr. Summers is here to see you." Hammerman calls out from his desk.
"Since when are you a secretary?" Lillith murmurs, glancing up from her work. She takes a little slide back in her chair to bring the older Detective into her purview.
"Since Holly is out sick and the Cap'n told me to manage all of your 'affairs' since you were out 'sick'."

Lillith rolls her eyes as she draws herself to a stand, grabbing her files to tuck underneath her arm, her canister of coffee that nearly spills upon her desk, her badge that was soon hung over her neck as Hammerman calls out.

"Interrogation Room 1."

The door was breached with a push of her hip, her lip worrying briefly as she tries to balance everything within her grasp. The leather gloves that fit all the way to her elbows doesn't seem to do the trick at making things catch, but it'll do.. for now. The officer soon approaches Mr. Summers, warily, only pointing towards the door which Detective Crowley went into briefly.

'No funny stuff..' He mutters to him, then wanders on off to do his job.

Scott gives the officer a flat look, and fights off the urge to say 'What, or I'll end up with six warning shots in my back?'. He probably wasn't the best choice to send down, but with Jean out and Betsy dealing with a sudden guest, he was the only one that could free up his schedule.

He steps into the interrogation room and gives a slight nod of his head, carrying his own file underneath his arm. "Detective." he offers in neutral tone as he moves to take a seat. He seems to know the drill immediately.

"Nnh, grab the door." Lillith mentions without even looking his way. She was dropping the files upon the desk, attempting to sort them with a push here and there, coffee held with one hand as she drags the chair over with her foot to take a seat. "And.. have a seat, Mr… Summers is it?" She gestures in front of her, fingers soon licked briefly to draw her files open, leaning back within her chair to read and wait for him to sit.

"Call me Crowley by the way."

"Crowley it is, then." Scott takes a seat, his back ramrod straight, posture perfect for the moment as he sets his own file on the desk and watches her dishevelment with just barely a hint of amusement. It reminds him a lot of someone else that's currently overwhelmed, so he can sympathize with the beleaguered detective - just slightly. "Sure you have enough information?" he asks with a crooked eyebrow, though he keeps his glasses firmly in place as he adjusts them with his fingers on his nose before folding his hands over each other on top of the folder on the table.

"Of course not." Lillith states as she finally looks up towards him with a smile. Her leg shifting to cross one denim clad thigh over the other, her hands brushing her dark hair away from her face. "But I'm sure that's not what you came here for to see if I have enough information on whatever it is that I'm currently doing at the moment so.. lets get down to business shall we?"

She drops her own files down, closing them quickly. "So you have a bit of a missing persons issue." She drags the blank steno pad forward, her pen soon grabbed and uncapped, in which the cap soon flies off the table and onto the ground, her eyes glancing towards it upon the floor and leaving it there for the moment. If he moves to pick it up, she'd shake her head and ask for him to leave it. "Lets start from the top."

Scott starts to stoop, but when she waves him off, there's an absent shrug as he moves himself back up into a sitting position. He opens the simple portfolio he carries with him and pulls out a picture of the human Hank McCoy, and the invitation from the United Nations. "The human rights council was having a meeting on the rise of mutants in the EU, and the ambassador of the Netherlands, one of the member nations, asked him to come speak. We called and verified the invitation, since we have security in place for such things. It was all above board, and legitimate." he explains as he passes over the invitation, which has been since sealed inside a baggie to protect it.

The UN sent a driver to pick up Doctor McCoy from Westchester at approximately 0830 hours and giving for traffic, he made good time to the city. He has a tracer on his phone, in case there was trouble." he gives a tight lip smile. "You'll have to forgive me for coming across as paranoid, but I'd rather protect my fellow teachers." he explains.

"At around 1000 hours, he sent a message saying he was near the UN. That's the last we heard from him. His phone went off-line at.." he looks at the file, rubbing his finger over a couple of lines and stops. "1007 hours."

Lillith watches him casually as he goes over the reports, her gloved hands pressing along at her cheeks as she glances up towards the camera, the red light remaining off for now. None of this needed to be recorded, it was just a report of a missing person, and she did a good job at remembering conversations to a T. It's what she was trained for.

Finally, she reaches forward, drawing the bagged evidence closer towards her as well as the picture, soon snapping her pen upright to begin to jot down everything that was said, shorthanded of course.

"What's his mobile number?" She pauses just a beat. "Address of the school, as well as his personal residence.." She pauses once again. "Known associates? Ectera.."

The phone was found at the scene of the attack, they made sure to leave it behind. "He worked and lived at Xavier's Institute." Scott explains as he takes out a card with the address on it. It's his own card in this case, showing him as a history teacher at the school. "He had some fellow teachers he was friends with, but for the most part, he kept to himself. He was a bit of a recluse. As for the school, I can account for the whereabouts of the teachers and staff that morning - it was a normal day of classes. We had one of the other teachers fill in for his science class."

It's already been one hell of a day, even though their meeting has basically gotten started. Lillith remained on the opposite side of the table as she scritches down words that possibly doesn't make any sense to Mr. Summers, something that her addled brain does, a form of automatic writing that she'll make sense of later. Let's just call that short-hand. "So he worked and lived at the school?" Her eyes shoot up to look towards him, studying the red glasses with a slight of a frown. "Do you work and live there as well? Do all instructors for the institute?"

She leans forward to draw the card towards her, not bothering to look towards the address. "I'll need the names of all of the teachers he was acquainted with. Even some that he did not get along with. I'll also need the name of the teacher that filled in for the science class." Her eye twitches slightly, as she slowly draws herself up to a stand, moving towards the window to lift upon the tips of her feet, attempting to reach the latch of the window but she was just too small to do so.

"Mind giving me a hand?"

Chicken scratch would be a more appropriate term. Scott nods his head. "Yes. There are several teachers that do. The commute between Westchester and New York can be a pain." he says as he rises to his feet and moves to help Lillith with the latch and window. "I live there, yes. I also teach history." he frowns as she brings up the need for a list of teachers. "If I provide such a list, what type of scrutiny would it receive?" he says with a thoughtful look at the woman. "Our school tends to the needs of special students, and in the wrong hands, that list could be used in a rather reckless manner." he explains as he latches the window to pull it closed.

"There you are." he says as he moves to retake his seat. "It is not a matter of cooperation, I just think that there is some need for confidentiality in this case, Detective Crowley."

Kurt Wagner makes his way in, his hoodie pulled up and his holo-imager disguising his face, albeit to a visage familiar to both Scott and Lillith alike. His hands are in the pockets of a grey sweatshirt as he moves to stand by the desk where Lillith and Scott stand. He'd been keeping track of the detective since her injuries some time ago - he'd expected her ot take time off, but, as usual, she chose to ignore the chance to get some respite and dived right back into investigation.

He'd intended to talk to her about Hank's disappearance himself, to find out if the police knew anything yet. And now he sees Scott's already here ahead of him, "I can assure you, old friend, that Detective Crowley's discretion can be trusted. Except when it comes to staying out of the line of fire, ja?" he says with a half-smirk at Lillith.

Lillith knew he was coming, hell.. she half expected him to bamf right into the room, but once that didn't happen, she moves towards the table to finally pick up the pen cap that was dropped upon the floor. Soon as it was fixed to the pen, she settles down into her chair again, across the table from Scott, her hand gesturing towards the door so that Kurt could close it to keep it private.

"Kurt is right. To a point." She states, to clarify.

"In the instance that Dr. McCoy has met with foul play, those names would have to be released to the department in order to better help with the investigation." Beat. "Foul play means, dead. The same would go if he has been assaulted or dumped somewhere unsightly and is in need of medical attention." She pauses a little, glancing to the both of them, Kurt getting a tiny smile in greeting. She was ignoring his words, though. The last of them. That kind of stung.

"However, if he's been found safe and sound with no harm done and doesn't wish to press charges, then those records would probably be sealed and pushed under the table. But as it stands, with the recent activity that crops up all over New York, we're stretched thin as is." The pad of paper was soon taken up, and turned onto a new leaf, which was adjusted as well as the pen laid atop and pushed towards Scott. "With that said, I'll also need access to his personal quarters and workstation."

"Kurt." Scott gives his friend a smile at the arrival, though it's still tinged with concern. Even at his reassurance, the security minded Scott is still cautious. "Do you have a smart phone?" he asks as he glances towards Lillith and gives a nod. "If you do not mind something of an escort?" he suggests. "Again, it's a security thing. It's nothing personal." he promises as he frowns.

"I do not think these mutants that took Doctor McCoy were in it just to kill him - if that were the case, they would have done so on sight. And the suspect in question tried to carry out a similar attack a few days prior on Beverly Sunderland." he explains. "I had some of the students there for an autograph session when the attack occurred."

Kurt Wagner settles into a spare chair, crossing his legs casually and sitting back, "While I understand the needs of procedure and thoroughness, I sincerely doubt there is great reason from the good Doktor's disappearance to be found at the school - except, perhaps, for his work, none of which any of us is likely to understand and all of which will, no doubt, be highly encrypted and hard to recover without him providing the key. It is not that I wish to railroad or block the investigation, I simply wish to expedite things. Henry is a good man and a friend - I hope an pray he will be returned safely and soon," he says.


Lillith leans to the side to retrieve her phone from her back pocket, her hand lifting towards her teeth to withdraw the gloves that she wears with a tug and snatch, allowing it to fall to her lap as she uses her thumb to swipe the phone to life. She was careful as she places the phone upon the table, keeping contact with the phone itself as it's flicked towards Scott with a powerful push of fingers which causes a gentle slide.

"I don't mind an escort." She says evenly, she was fully expecting to have one, but her frown is deepened as a look was cut towards Kurt.

"If you expedite things, especially a missing persons case, you could possibly miss a very important and critical detail. I'm not all about guns blazing, meine geliebte." She gently chides, then frowns towards Scott.

"I'll need to speak to this Beverly person as well. And I'd like full details on the suspect in question." Though, that gives her pause. "Two things. If this has happened before, why was this not reported? Secondly, how can you be so sure that these particular mutants aren't out to kill him?"

"What if he doesn't do what they want? What if he fights every single part of the way? With kidnapping, -if- this is as random as I'm thinking, anything is up for grabs as well as what they intend to do with the person once they're done with them."

Tapping a few keys on his phone, Scott brings it over to tap against Lillith and transfers the school's staff list to her phone. Easily enough done. "To answer your first question, you would have to ask Miss Sunderland why she didn't file a report - I'm sure her celebrity status might have something to do with it. As for the second - if they were out to kill him, wouldn't he already be dead? They kidnapped him, they didn't just kill him. And while I have not recieved a ransom demand, nor has the headmistress at the school, we're still hopeful." he admits with a frown.

"And if Hank is in trouble, he'll know how to handle himself." That doesn't keep Scott from looking concerned, but he knows that he can sorta handle himself. "He's intelligent enough to know if he's in deep enough to play towards the needs of those that took him."

Kurt Wagner adds, "And he knows well enough that those of us who care about him will do everything in our power to recover him. And our power is not inconsiderable. If anything, I would suspect the motive for his kidnapping is precisely that - drawing more of us out in the open to look for him. Which would indicate some degree of intelligence gathering on the part of those who took him. Either they've done their research or they're someone we've known in the past," he says.

"All of which, of course, is speculation. But we can be of much more help to you than merely cooperating witnesses, fraulein, as I'm sure you know," he says.

"Suppose I'll find her. At least to get a description." The gears in Lillith's head were turning, turning so much that she absently reached forward for the pad of paper and pen with her gloved hand to turn it into her direction. She wasn't so absent that the glove was soon shuffled on, then pen picked up and soon, she begins to scratch a sketch. Her pupils were nearly like saucers as she continues to hold the conversation, though, not directly looking at the paper or either one of them, just a spot upon the table.

"Nn. With the way you two are speaking I'm going to assume that you house a school of vigilantes." She shakes her head, then continues. "Either way, we don't know what's happening nor the outcome that we'll get once all of this pans out.."

She would. But doesn't say so.

"But honestly, I've been nearly razored in half and nearly killed thanks to the mutant community as a whole and I dare say that I'm vested more than any cop should be." She sniffs faintly, her gaze falling upon the paper as if she were surprised at the drawing, which was soon covered up with a flip of the paper.

"So help? I'll pass. If it's just a missing persons with people who will not murder Dr. McCoy, because .. he's partly high profile as it stands.. I have this covered." She smiles curtly, the pupils of her eyes lessening as she lets out a small breath. "Anything else before I get to work?" She shifts her glances. "We done here?"

"We're not vigilantes, Detective." Scott stiffens in his chair. "There are those of us that only want to help, but for the most part, we simply want to help those that aren't afforded the help they need because they're different. Segregated, even." He totally goes there with her. "And we want to do so without violence, but it finds us as much as it is claimed that we seek it out. I will let Miss Sunderland know that you wish to talk to her, but she is independent of the school."

With that, he rises to his feet. "Yes, I think we are done here. Thank you for your time, Detective. I look forward to your best work." With that, he turns to head out, hands curling on themselves in frustration at the unvieled accusation.

Something is going to get the crap beat out of it later.

Kurt Wagner rises as well, pulling forward his hood, "Strange, it strikes me that the mutant community also helped to save your life. Apparently that received no credit. Maybe iif we wore suits of armor or dressed ourselves in the flag or put on red capes, we would become more palatable," he says. He turns off his holo imager, revealing his own face.

"I understand you have your rules to follow, Lillith. But they are not my rules and I will not stand aside and let my friend's life hang in the balance in order to appease forms and regulations. If you do not wish help, that is your prerogative. A disappointing one, but it is what it is," he says. "Good evening, fraulein Crowley," he says and, with a BAMF and a burst of sulfur smoke, he vanishes.

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