Log:Confronting Carpenter

A List of Questions 2019/09/20 Night Marshal|Carpenter Mechanica 3

Carpenter is on his way to his car, intending to head home after having met with Miss Garcia about the mysterious list.

People have left since he got here, leaving his car unsurrounded by other automobiles. The florescent lights flicker over head, some of the ones near his car are out when they were on when he left his car here.

Cloaked and waiting, Mechanica has put the cameras in the area on a feed loop and begins following Carpenter. Once he's closer to his car, she steps up behind him, trying to strategize how to get this person to talk. But first, that sidearm is a danger. She reaches her hand forward, trying to slip her hand under his trench coat to snag it.

Mechanica waits and times it with the swing of Carpenter's arm. Her fast, slender hands slip through his arms as the coat opens, her thumb hooking over the snap securing the gun and sliding it forward out of its holster. It's only as it's withdrawn that Carpenter feels the brush against him, but now Mechanica has the gun in hand and takes a step back as her cloak drops. The gun is held in her right hand as she folds her left arm and rests her right elbow on it. The muzzle is pointed up. "Good evening, Detective Carpenter," she purrs. Her hood is tilted way down, shading her face dramatically.

Carpenter blinks as he takes in the situation. He gets his composure back pretty quickly, but it's obvious that his jaw sets, too. "Mechanica. Mind telling me why you took my firearm? You intending to kill me with my own weapon?"

"Hah. No. Just a safety precaution. I don't know who you really work for yet." Mechanica's thumb tests to make sure the safety is on.

Carpenter raises a brow, "I work for the CBPD." He folds his arms, giving off that 'defensive' vibe entirely on purpose, since he knows that the body language conveys, "Who do you work for? Yourself? The Cangelosis? Pride?"

"I suppose you could call me a free agent," Mechanica smirks as she slow-paces, prowling as she studies his body language. "The CBPD? Really? You know, that's very interesting, because your name appears on a Triad payroll document I ran across." Her eyes focus on his to see how he reacts to her calling it payroll. She's still not sure what that list is, but drops that word to see if it registers.

Carpenter raises a brow, "You mean the one that has a bunch of cryptocurrency numbers on it? That one? I'm going to assume it's the same list I was given." He doesn't react at all to the payroll comment at all, since he was kind of expecting it.

That slows her roll completely as she stops prowling. A little wrinkle appears between her brows. "Who gave you that?" she demands, no longer sounding playfully accusing.

It's his turn to smile slightly, "A friend. Whom I shall not name. I need to protect identities, after all." He lets that sink in. Sure...he's saying that she gave him the list...and that he's protecting his own identity. But if she thinks Night Marshal gave him the list, and that's who he's protecting...that would be ideal.

Mechanica makes a pained groan of irritation. "Vaquero..." she curses with her nickname for his hero identity. "Night Marshal gave this to you. Great," she complains. "You must've been the one he'd bet his life on." Her standoffish act drops and her body language relaxes in its defeat.

Carpenter unfolds his arms, "I am a detective, and have been for a long time. I am damn good at my job. That means knowing people. And knowing who people are. Even some metas. I work mostly meta-related cases." Again...all true. Just not...the full picture. "Please give me back my firearm, and then we can talk about this. I am responsible for what happens with that weapon."

Mechanica looks hesitant at first. She's wrestling with her paranoia and trust issues. But Night Marshal did patch her up. Perhaps trust is owed. She holds the gun out to him with it laid flat in her open palm, but her body is tense. "Those sounds like reasons for you to show up on that list."

Carpenter nods and takes the weapon, reholstering it. He makes a point of not doing any flourishes with the pistol, since it might cause a connection to be made. "It might, except I haven't had a ton of interaction with the Triads in the last year. A little, but not much. And when I did, it was usually Lee's Triad, since more metas are involved with his. The exception being the fight club that Pride runs. But those folks are on a lower power level than Lee's folks."

Mechanica frowns at that information, since it doesn't help her theories. She relaxes once the gun is holstered, not realizing how fast he can draw it. "Okay. So not payroll. I assume that list is why you were in Assistant District Attorney Gracia's office?" Then, she grins playfully. "Or was that just a personal visit."

Carpenter nods, "That was the reason I stopped by. I wanted to get her take on it. And to confirm my thoughts on whether or not she was involved. And for the record, I was pretty sure she wasn't. And her reactions confirmed that." He doesn't know that Mechanica saw their interaction. Just that he was there in the office. "Our theory is that it's a theoretical amount to bribe the people listed with, if necessary."

"Are you sure your judgement isn't a litlte...'impaired' where she's concerned?" Mechanica says with a playful, suggestive smile that says she saw their little moment.

Carpenter raises a brow, "Because I used to date her? Perhaps. But it also means I can read her better than you can, because I know her. All I know about you is that you're kind of mercenary about what you do. A bit of a loose cannon. And that you got shot recently." He did overhear the conversation with Rangel and Blok, after all.

Carpenter smirks, "Oh...and you live dangerously, stealing a cop's service weapon. That was dumb. And unnecessary."

"Mmm. You're not wrong about me," Mechanica admits, though not happily. More because he knows more about her than she likes. "I do things my own way. I've learned not to trust the system." At his last words, she smiles broadly. "Yes, that is also very correct. Life is short, Detective, and I like to get results quickly. And if you weren't an honest cop, it would have been very necessary."

Carpenter raises a brow, clearly not quite believing that she would have difficulty handling a single policeman with a firearm. He just stares at her, giving that impression for several seconds, before finally speaking. "Uh huh. Then I guess you didn't do as much research as I expected you would." He takes a deep breath and lets it out, trying to relax a little bit. He's obviously feeling annoyed, but trying to get past that. "Do you have any other theories about what the list might mean?"

"Oh, I've done some digging around. But as you said...I was shot recently. I had to take some 'me' time," Mechanica croons. "So far, no cryptocurrency transfers or unusual sums of money appearing in the accounts of those on the list. I found some dirt on someone...but it was unrelated to the list." She taps a clawed finger on her chin. "It's starting to feel like your theory is right. Perhaps these are potential bribe targets. Or the list is a lie."

Carpenter nods. "Or it's encoding a message of some kind? Though I think that's not as likely."

"Could be. Or there's some other files that are meant to go with this one." Mechanica purses her lips in thought. "I may have to do more digging. But by now, they know their money is gone, and their list is compromised. If it was a plan of action, they can't take it now."

Carpenter rubs his chin, "Maybe? It might require just a 'wait and see' approach."

Mechanica makes an impatient noise. Waiting and seeing is something she hasn't the time for. Her 'life is short' comment was literal in her case. "I suppose so. I'll do some final checks." She turns away, saying over her shoulder, "Have a good evening, Detective." She starts to walk away, not so much as an apology for taking his gun. At least she didn't hold him at gunpoint.

Carpenter grunts a bit, "Good evening." As he heads toward his car, he mutters, "Stop making stupid decisions." It's unclear if it's meant for her, or for himself.

Mechanica smirks to herself, thinking it's to her. "I make no promises," she sing-songs before her cloaking matrix activates and she disappears, her outline not even visible once she gets far enough away. She fast-hacks the cameras to take them off loop in ten minutes.

Carpenter ends up taking a slightly roundabout route going home, just in case. Not that Mechanica couldn't figure out where he lives, but it also helps to clear his head a little.