MLE Booking and Interrogation
 

Benjamin finally reached the room. He entered it slowly, and took a look around. It was a while since he had been in there. Only once before, in fact. Once inside, he placed his Fedora up on the coat rack. It was then that the man took a look at the other people in the room.

"Damien," he said light heartedly approaching his co-worker with a hand out for a handshake. "I'll be taking one of our friends here to get some info." What for, The New Yorker only had a small clue. They were attacked. Never good in any situation.

Nervous... As they would be. He could tell just from their body language. Something he could speak fluently... So to speak.

Interrogation Room One
 

Sowwy I took so long. Real life is awful. :(
 

Nodding at the man who held the door open, Daniel gave him a nod and stepped on inside. This was just an inconvenience in his day, and making a traumatic time worse. The young man ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

Damien turned his glare on the man that spoke next. Giving him a LOOK he said, "It will take as long as we want it to take." RUDE people.

As soon as the young man was through the door Damien quit glaring long enough to step inside and let the door slam shut. Smiling at the man he now said, "Okay. Now, for starters, I am Damien Jackson. You are?" Seeeee... he was nice. Sometimes.

Slamming doors.

Nice.

Very final.

"I am Daniel Upstead," Daniel said simply, and looked around the room. "You'll want to know my shop, I suppose?"

Poor stolen book...

Extending his hand across the table as he rounded it and spun his chair around so he could sit facing the back of it he smiled. Then in his thick Southern drawl he said, "Nice to meet you, Daniel. Wish it was under different cirumstances of course."

Poor guy.

"Yes I need to know which shop you work. Then we will start off slow and you can kind of relive the situation for me. I know, that sucks, but it is the best bet that I will be able to find this scumbag for you," Damien said gently. See. He had tact sometimes.

Heheheh. Why was it he was reciting A Pirates Life for Me in his head when he was dealing with something so serious? Perhaps it was to keep some sanity... or because he had none left. Either way it was amusing him but he kept that off of his face.

"Of course," Daniel agreed, running a hand through his hair once more before sitting down. Boy... he was exhausted.

"Alright. It's the Third Hand Book Emporium," he said, and began checking his pockets for a piece of parchment with the book name on it. He took a second to realise that he didn't need to be all book obsessed. "Alright then. Shall I start?"

Damien dug in his pockets and retrieved a note pad and self inking quill and jotted down a few things. Smiling back at the guy he nodded his head. "Yeah. I want you to start from the very beginning. I need detail. Even if it is something you think might not be important. Let me be the judge, tell me everything." Game face on, quill at the ready, GO!

No Problems. :)
 

Benjamin watched Damien leave with his questionee before he looked back to his victim. He fixed his tie and flattened out his shirt before the other gentleman spoke up.

"No, shouldn't be too long. I assume you are very busy." The New Yorker kept his voice upbeat, because he knew being attacked was a very, very, bad thing. No matter how.

Grabbing a chair he took around. They could talk in that room. No one was coming in or out. The place was secure. Being no bugs, or anything. Ben then sat down and reached a pen out of his pocket along with a note pad. "Well, let's get started... I guess I should introduce myself, first." He took out his badge/identification and showed it to the shopkeep. "My name is Detective Benjamin Amsten; former head of the 'Improper Use of Magic and Misuse of Muggle Artifacts' offices, and former 'Head Auror' of the American Ministry." After the badge was put away, the pen was uncapped and prepared for writing. "Now... What is your name and in what shop to you work in?"

"Alright," Daniel nodded as he straightened his clothes and made himself comfortable. "Well... I was at the counter, checking through my receipts and money; making sure it all added up, and I decided to check through the shelves, as I tend to do every now and then." Obviously.

Shifting on the chair slightly, Daniel stroked his chin and went on. "I saw two adults. One was a woman who waved me goodbye. The other was this dodgy looking bloke, who had a book in his hand. He made to leave, and I called out, but thought he'd just walk away."

He thought about how the dude looked and told himself he'd get to that later.

"The guy comes closer, and I told him he needed to pay for the book," Daniel went on, and his voice went a teeny bit shaky. "He pointed his wand at me-" Daniel placed his hand over his chest, fingers spread out "-and performed the Cruciatus Curse. I told him to take the book. He cast 'sectum' on my cheek," here Daniel pointed at the wound/scar on his face. "Hospital said they couldn't heal it completely unless it was immediate." Bloody waiting times. "And yeah the guy took the book and left."

Daniel looked very thoughtful for a moment.

"Never said his name or anything that hinted towards who he was. Just said I'm to let him take what he wants from now on. I, uhh, I suppose you want a description?"

He just needed a second to get over it; the day had been traumatic.

Etienne watched the guy go with a faintly amused smile on his face. Middle-age was rough in some, was it not?

Turning his attention back to the other one, Kenning studied him carefully as he took seat. This one seemed chill and gracious even, if compared to the other one. He placed his hands on his lap, and laced the fingers of his right hand with those of the left one, as the man introduced himself. "Detective," the twenty-nine year old repeated neutrally, though allowing some curiosity to slip into his tone. "I was not aware that you lot used muggle terms to describe your job."

Or maybe it wasn't a muggle term, and it was in fact originally used by wizards? Whatever the case, it made him feel a little bit relaxed for some reason. Absently, he scratched the top of his left eyebrow, where a very faint scar showed. "Nevertheless, it's nice to meet you, Detective Amsten." Regardless of the circumstances of the meeting, he supposed. "My name is Etienne Kenning, and I'm the owner and shopkeeper of Scribbulus Everchanging Inks."

Damien began to jot down what the guy said, glancing up at him to nod now and again. Man... the guy that did this was a real piece of work, it seemed. It made Damien angry to think that one of these people was still loose on the alley. Once the guy stopped talking Damien looked back over the notes and read them back to himself.

"Yes, I need a description of the man if you can remember. There is no need to worry. You are doing the right thing. We will make sure to do our best to see that he or anyone else never harms you again, Daniel." Poor poor fella. If Damien wasn't such a man's man he would have given the kid a hug. He was too macho for that though so he gave him a reassuring nod and a half smile.

His title was noted. Not many people question that he had a muggle title. "A clever observation," Ben said to the man in front of him. Although, there is a reason why. "You see, not many Ministry Agents have actually gone through all the muggle work and studying to become a certified detective." He smirked. Benjamin thought was something that separated him from other aurors and agents.

He noticed the scratching done by the shopkeep. A normally small occurrence, but he did notice a scar. The New Yorker took a quick mental note. "It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Kenning. It's too bad it had to be like this, though." Ben's American accent rang in the room as he jotted down the shopkeep's name and occupation on the notepad he had.

"Could you please, Mr. Kenning, take me through what happened to you, step by step, in your attack? Try and describe, as the best you can, everything you saw, heard, etcetera." He tried to keep his voice calm. "I promise I will not ask questions until you are finished." He had his note pad ready for notes.

Oh. So he'd attended Muggle university? How odd. Though he supposed Detective Amsten was hardly the only wizard out there bothering to have some muggle education. Etienne was going to ask the man if he'd done his studies in America, for his accent clashed with Etienne's own Birmingham one, and thus gave him away as a yankee, when he realized that the detective's life was really none of his business. So he kept his mouth shut and made sure a look of polite interest took over his fair face.

Right. Back to business. Rather uncomfortably, Etienne shifted on his seat. "Well, I recall stocking the shelves with new bottles of ink when I saw this couple talking in low tones, and kept on looking at the rolls of parchment." A small frown edged on his forehead as he continued, "So of course I went there to ask if they needed any help, you see? Helping costumers it's my job and all that. The woman was gracious enough, but he looked a bit like a grump." Or maybe like a crazy man, as Etienne had learned. "He asked me what was added to the parchment to make it scented... and, well, you see I got a bit defensive. After all, one doesn't one to just give away certain things about the merchandise because for all you know they could be competition. As it is, I thought they were Ministry People initially, so I admit I was a bit rude." Well, no. He'd not been rude--he'd been mocking. "But that's no excuse to what he did after."

It was true. And after some time had passed, after he'd mended (somewhat) his bruised ego, he'd come to the conclusion that the entire thing was a little creepy. Well, no--it was really creepy. "What I mean is," He cleared his throat and watched as one of his hands closed into a fist. "He told the lady to go, then proceeded to insult the job I had before calling me a... a... you know." Well, did he? Probably not. The man was no mind reader. Right? Kenning shot him a quick look from the corner of one of his brown eyes. "Mudblood. He called me a mudblood. And then set some sort of curse on me that left me bleeding." And that was the last time he'd be repeating that story, for not only was it embarrassing, but it was very offensive as well. After all, Etienne had never been scorned before for his heritage. "And just... how did he know I was a muggleborn?" Again, he cleared his throat. "I'm not ashamed of what I am, don't get me wrong, but I don't go around saying, 'Hiya! Etienne Kenning, resident Muggleborn of Scribbulus' or anything of the sort. It would be ridiculous." Because really--who cared about your blood status nowadays?

Once the story began, The Detective listened in carefully. He heard the tone in the man's voice... Nervousness. Of course, it is a horrible experience. Ben knew that first hand. He nodded at certain points, but mostly he wrote down, near word to word, everything the shopkeep said. But they eventually got to a point that surprised Ben.

'Mudblood?' He knew what the term meant. Just the fact that someone used it. It's not something that people use much anymore, and, as far as he knew, there were very little, if not no, muggle hating societies.

The New Yorker nodded to the man as he made his last point, scribbling down a few more notes. Then he started thinking. Where to start? There's many things we don't know. Might as well start with the man. "The man who attacked you," Ben finally said after a few moments. "You... Don't remember what he looked like? At all? What he wore? Any unusual features like a scar?" After saying that Ben realized scar may not have been the best word, remembering the man he was talking to had one.

"Okay," Daniel nodded, and frowned at the table for a moment. Hmm... he had to think, because he had a feeling his brain was trying to make him forget the guy's face. His brain, instead of keeping traumatic images at the forefront of his mind, tended to suppress them straight away.

And now... he was TRYING to remember?

Crazy... mental... insane...

"He was... kind of tall. Only a little taller than myself," Daniel said slowly, trying to replay the event and freeze frame. He was about 5'11" so... yeah. The guy had been at least 6' tall. "Kinda old. I'd put him at about 50 but I'm not good at placing ages. Uhhh... caucasian, black hair, grey eyes," Daniel finished with a firm nod. The eyes he remembered. The guy just seemed... all old movie like. "Just imposing. He made me feel uneasy before I even said anything to him."

Damien was no sketch artist so he didn't attempt it at all. He jotted down the description and then looked at the young man. "Can you give me a guess at his build. Like, was he a hefty man, skinny, medium. Also, is there anything that distinguished his appearance? Scars, anything like that?" Damien asked him with his quill at the ready.

At first, Etienne did not reply, though he remembered well; for someone like him, such a thing was impossible to forget. When he spoke at last, he shrugged his shoulders in attempts of appearing indifferent. "He was young, I'd say around my age. Asian, tall, dark-haired, sneaky look to him." Kenning scratched his left cheek absently. "And good-looking, too, I suppose," Finished the man, sounding grouchy.

Realizing that the description was perhaps on the vague side, he shrugged both helplessly and apologetically at the detective.

Ben nodded as Etienne spoke; writing down what the shopkeep said at the same time. After his brief description was finished, the Detective looked up and saw somewhat of an apologetic look. He looked back holding up a hand and with a smile, and added, "It's okay."

Adding one last note he flipped the page of his notepad and thought about what to ask next. "You said there was a woman there, too. I have two questions. One, was there anyone else in the store? And two, can you describe what the woman was doing while all this was going on?" The New Yorker waited patiently.

Hmm... that was weird. Daniel didn't suppose there was a way to describe him. "Medium, I guess? On the strong side for sure... he was definitely not weak."

No scars that Daniel could remember... it was horrible feeling this useless. "I'd definitely be able to recognise him if I saw him."

Damien nodded his head as he wrote down that the man was of medium build... this was going to be interesting to figure out. "Hmmm. Perhaps we could do some sort of line up or something if we can get some suspects together," he told Daniel as he set his quill aside.

Flipping through his notepad he read back over the information that he had written. Smiling up at Daniel he said, "Well, if that is all you can give us, I know we can make it work. I do stress the fact that if you do recall anything, see the man again, anything that could help us, please contact the MLE offices or myself or Evander Bole personally." He then rose from the table and extended his hand to the man.