2010-02-04: FB: Subway Murder

Starring:

Jo_V4Ricon.gifMaggie_V4Ricon.gif

Date Set: August 1, 2009

Summary:

Two deaths on the subway result in an investigation and two old acquaintances unite.


Six Months Ago…

"Subway Murder"

Subway Station — NYC

The summer sunshine, and general heat, has made the subway nearly unbearable. The trains have stopped on this particular route, however. Death in general, and murder in particular have never been good for commuters. The entire station has been roped off with bright yellow crime. The bodies themselves are on still on the train, but the smell of foul rotting flesh lingers throughout the station. It's unnatural in a way, the way the bodies are already decomposing, even though witnesses (who have been gathered into a corner of the station platform) claim to have seen the victims alive — riding the train like any other passenger before falling to the ground. Within the space of the train, the corpses have yet to be removed. The incident happened only an hour or so earlier, in front of fifty or so witnesses, yet the stories don't match at all. One claimed that the assailant had a knife. Another that he'd shot both of the victims with a silenced gun. A third, said he fell on the victims and his very touch caused the pair to age in the blink of an eye — and as the train stopped, he couldn't regain his balance to step away from the pair. Others insisted it was nothing more than the heat itself that caused these open wounds for there was no weapon to be seen.

And because of the conflicting stories, the witnesses have been collected — gathered, and detained. Standing among them is a curly haired brunette who has more invested in this than all of them put together.

"I'm taking your word for it O'Meara," says Detective Maggie Powers, hopping off the train and onto the platform, drifting away from her reluctant partner, the lanky and perpetually shifty-eyed detective. The guy's got a serious chunk of experience with the NYPD on the woman he's stuck working with. It was supposed to be temporary. Looks like someone pissed off the gods — or rather, the Lieutenant. It certainly couldn't have been Maggie — after all, look at that sweet smile the blonde-haired detective she throws his way as they take their separate routes at the crime scene. It's only a vestige of what was a good mood before she arrived on the scene. With the harsh reality of a day like today, smiles don't last.

Hands in the pockets of the pin straight, wide-legged navy blue trousers she wears with a summery — if very plain — white cotton blouse, Maggie stifles a cough in her throat, fighting the humid, heavy, sickening air of the subway and strolls toward what looks like a pen of witnesses. A few of her colleagues have been questioning the witnesses, but there's a lot to go through in a public incident like this and with none of their stories matching up, it means more questions. More work. But Maggie is good at this part. She's about to greet a fretting elderly lady when a younger faces catches her eye and, with an apology, she abandons the first witness in favour of the brunette. At first, the familiarity in her eyes is a little distant, but it becomes more sure as she says, "Scotty?" Pause. "Jo?"

The brunette turns and looks at the cop, "Maggie?" Jo's lips curl upwards into a smile, although it's weak. "What are you doing here?" She wrinkles her nose as she glances towards the subway, but it straightens again as she returns her gaze to Maggie. "Were you…?" she points towards the train with furrowed eyebrows. With a sigh, she shakes her head at the train. "I didn't know you were in New York —"

Maggie's brows inch together, discerning, confused, delaying a return smile. It comes, and when it does it's bright, but burns up quickly as it did with O'Meara. A hand emerges from her pocket, and with it, a detective's badge. The shield is flashed at Jo with barely any shine in the dull light of the subway. "Detective Maggie Powers… NYPD." Another quick smile, this one humble and more short-lived than the last as a very serious look overtakes her features. She glances back to the train. "Been awhile. Since…" Awkwardly, Maggie trails away, both figuratively, with her words, and literally, with her feet. She starts to walk, giving Jo a nod to follow along. "You were on the train?"

"Wow. Congrats," Jo issues the other woman a fleeting smile that fades into a frown as the reality of the train sinks in. Her frown lingers for some time before she nods. "Yes. I was on the train. Wrong car though," her tone is bitter. "I was still there. Just not as much as other people." She sighs again. If only she'd been in the right car. Her black cargo capris paired with her white t-shirt and denim jacket are making her feel very warm, but she dare not remove her jacket. "Anything about the deaths seem familiar?" she tries to sound casual, but her own bitterness creeps into the tone once again.

"There've been a few cases that fit the bill… whatever the bill is," Maggie confesses, some bitterness sneaking into her own, almost hidden by the softer tone of her voice. Down the platform, she stops a dozen or so feet away from the group of witnesses to give them privacy to talk. Even though Jo's questioning might not prove as useful as someone who saw the deaths firsthand. "I'm gonna have to question you…" she says. Her hands nestle back into the pockets of her slacks as she turns to face Jo. "Did you hear anything from the other car?"

"Mostly screaming and confusion after it had happened," Jo admits quietly, but then she'd been listening. "I'd only got in the station before this one." She shrugs slightly, trying to signal that she doesn't know anything, really. Yet, something in her eyes says otherwise. "So you've seen deaths like these before? From what I can see no one can agree as to what happened exactly…"

"There's not much I can say, but— " Apologetic more than evasive, Maggie pauses hesitantly, pursing her lips until her cheeks dimple slightly. She looks past Jo to the train door. She can see the skinny form of O'Meara and the forensics team talking inside. "Yeah, there've been others. I mean there's nothing linking them conclusively, but the way the bodies look…" Now she's evasive — and also watching Jo rather closely with those bright, perceptive eyes of hers. "I guess you oughta be glad you were in the other car."

The ex-SEAL's hazel eyes flicker with regret and Jo's frown certainly doesn't suggest that she's glad. "And of course you can't say much," her lips curl into a very small smile. "And what do the bodies look like, exactly? I imagine it can't be good judging from the screams…" She frowns again with another sigh, "It would've been interesting to be able to see what was going on, I mean, judging from the sounds and such…"

Interesting is an apt enough word for it, but Maggie gives the other woman a vaguely unsettled look and a frown. "… They look old," she says frankly. "They look really old. Decomposing." Lifting arched brows at Jo, she goes on to ask, "Did you see them at the station? The male victim was wearing a t-shirt with a dragon on it. Bright, green… you know, one of those Chinese dragons. It was distinctive."

"You mean the teen that had been at the station?" Jo asks with a raise of her eyebrows. "He'd been wearing a dragon on his shirt. The shirt was like black, and the dragon really stood out. I remember the kid because he was riding his skateboard through the station; I'm sure pretty much anyone would remember him." She wrinkles her nose, "He couldn't have been more than eighteen. And believe me, he wasn't legal. That much is for sure." She glances at the train and shakes her head, "So lots of bodies have been looking old, then?"

"Yeah. Yeah, seventeen, actually. He had a student ID in his wallet." Maggie's attempt to say so casually doesn't work entirely. She's unsettled by the unusual way these people died, like this kid who had his whole life ahead of him. "We're thinking some kind of … powerful drug, you know, something to speed up deterioration like that— " She lifts a hand, palm out, splayed a little. "I really shouldn't— " An apologetic frown turns her lips down. "I have to get back to the other witnesses."

"Yeah… a drug," Jo retorts bitterly. She looks away from the cop and shakes her head. "No drug I know of could do something like that," she scoffs before shaking her head. "Besides, no one can decide what happened to the victims." Her lips twitch. It's a tell of sorts, a tell that Maggie may or may not remember. When she knows something, it happens, "Sounds like my parents. Aged well before their time." She sideglances Maggie before glancing back towards the train.

Maggie sidesteps as if ready to move on, but… no, not yet. There's something here. Something about Jo… "Your parents?" she echoes, curiosity (and suspicion) piquing. "I'm sorry," she prefaces sincerely, "Are you being literal? Did your parents age prematurely?" She tries to think, to remember some detail… "I don't know of any drug that can do that either, but… there's some wild stuff out there. Crazy technology. If you know something… you have to tell me."

"I…" Jo watches Maggie carefully, unsure of what to say or how to say it. Instead, cryptically she answers, "Mom and Dad looked old before I had them cremated. Older than they had a week prior to their death." That was the last time she'd seen them. With a sigh and a frown she shakes her head, "I don't know much. Just that they died mysteriously. Aged prematurely." And she'd seen it before. Of course, if Maggie bothers to check, she'd learn that Jo has been in several cities that have had deaths common to the ones here. "I can't imagine any technology that could do that."

The insight into the death of Jo's mother and father provokes a dark look of disquiet in Maggie. "That's … strange." To say the least. Notable, certainly — the detective's mentally files away of the information to be checked into later, an act that is practically written on her face at the moment. "Thanks for your help… if you think of anything else — you know, if you remember anything — about anyone. Your parents… the dragon kid… call the station. Ask for Detective Powers." She can't imagine any technology capable of something like this, either, but it's her job to find the explanation. A logical explanation. She starts to walk away, back to the group of restless witnesses. "See you," she calls back with a smile over her shoulder as she goes.

"Thanks, Mags," Jo says with a tinge of a smile. But as the police officer turns her back, the ex-SEAL turns on her heel, clenching her jaw tightly. Her steps are staccoto'd against the pavement as she hisses through her teeth to the thin air, "I'll get you one of these days. I was close today." She shakes her head at herself, "Just not close enough." She taps the gun holstered underneath her jacket.

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