In the Interview Room - Part Nine

Or, no Laurent doesn't pull a Sharon Stone.

Previously On - Laurent wants to help Helen, though not with the kind of help she wants. So, she and Sparrow put him in the back of their car and take him for a ride to their Cop Shop. The conversation on the way is… fraught, because Laurent can’t resist playing with Detective Sparrow.

Being patted down alarmed me a little. I did, after all, have a murder weapon on my person. I looked at the young blond man whose badge bore the unfortunate name of Sobkowiak. “You won't find anything dangerous.” I winked and pushed with my mind. It wasn't the same as a glamour. I couldn't hide metal quite that easily. The man's mind, stalwart but still human, gave under the pressure.

He searched me thoroughly, even touching the knife handle at the small of my back. Finished, he grabbed me by one elbow. “This way, sir.” We walked through a bustling room and down a short hall. He opened one of the plain wooden doors, marked with a simple number three and revealed a dimly lit room made of concrete. There were no windows to the outside. On the right, a large mirror dominated one wall. Somehow I knew there was more to the mirror than there appeared to be.

The long table in the room's center had a set of unyielding wooden chairs. Sobkowiak took me to my seat and made sure I sat down with more force than necessary. "You stay there. The detectives will be back in a while to finish with you."

I noted a metal bar was firmly affixed to the table's center. They would handcuff troublemakers to it. I didn't intend to cause any trouble, at least not immediately. “Thank you, officer.”

He nodded and left the room without further comment.

I knew I was still considered a free man by the laws of this country. Still, I had enough experience with the laws of humanity to know freedom was cheap and short-lived. They hadn't strip-searched me, yet. I didn't mean to give them a reason to. If they did the knife would be a liability and no spell I possessed would hide it. It could tie me to Willy's killing. I needed to rein in my desire for control and make sure the rest of the interview went in my favor. Minutes ticked by, and I amused myself by crafting an illusion. I imagined myself as a clone of Detective Sparrow.

I overlaid my appearance, my gait, my voice, with his own. The layers were all in my mind and formed as perfectly as I could make them. It would fool most humans without question. I prided myself on the ability to pass as others. It could even fool some of my people. Would it fool the lovely lady detective? I couldn't be sure of that. I hoped I wouldn't have to find out. At least part of me hoped for that.

Whether I had the need or opportunity, I could now take the place of Detective Sparrow in an eye's blink. That was the secret of a successful illusion, time taken in preparation. Thirty minutes had passed. Anyone who looked in on me during that time would have seen me seated, eyes closed, with an intensity of concentration on my face few would be capable of. Thirty minutes was longer than I cared to wait, but I again fought my nature. I was powerful in this place and time. Fighting my way out would be easy. What I could not do was risk wasting my time by being a fugitive. I could not flee to the freedom the fae realm offered me, and I did not wish to return to Hell.

Fifteen more minutes passed. Then, as though a fresh breeze had blown through the wall, I could sense her presence. I knew a human waited on the other side of the long mirror. Now, I knew that human was joined by Helen. She was looking at me. Though I could not see her, unable to pierce the human-made glamour of silvered glass, I knew where she was. Before the door opened, I knew that it was her who would walk through it. I knew these things without fully understanding why. I suspected the blood connection between Helen and Willy was in part possible. His summoning of me would have granted a unique bond between us. Now that bond existed between Helen and me.

Patrolman Sobkowiak opened the door for her. She carried two cups of coffee in a small cardboard tray. It didn't smell as good as the brew made by the shaman's daughter, but it would be passable. I longed for honeyed wine or even a good strong ale, but this would do.

"You'll have to forgive me for making you wait. We were looking into a few things." She sat exusing confidence.

"Verifying my story I suppose?" I leaned forward and rested my chin on one hand. My eyes were barely open.

She slid the cup across to me. The coffee was cool enough to drink so I did, sitting up and waiting for her answer.

"Trying to, at least. If we're going to ask you any more questions, we have to see how on the level you are. Your prints aren't in the system, but you knew that. We couldn't find any outstanding warrants under your name, but that assumes you gave us your correct name. I'm going to guess you aren't carrying any identification."

I patted myself down. "I seem to have left without my wallet this morning." I placed a hand over my mouth.

Her forehead wrinkled. "Look, Laurence, you say you want to help me catch my brother's killer." Her tone was more annoyed than angry.

"Did I? I know I said we have a common interest. You and your brother were in danger long before I came to this town. Your brother knew that or at least believed in it, even if you don't. It is that danger that is our common interest. It may have nothing to do with what caused your brother's death, but it has everything to do with why I'm here. That is our common interest, and it is with the danger I desire to help you."