2019-07-26 - Detective File: Thorne, Byron

While he may still be forced to wear a hospital gown during his stay here, whatever pain killers that Byron Thorne was on previously seemed to have faded. Sure, he's bedridden for the time being, but on the sliding table in front of him, he's working on the laptop that Vivian brought over, while also being on his phone. It's been a hell of a few weeks, so he's forced to play catch up on everything he's neglected. Especially within the past few days.

On a side table, there's a cup of coffee, an untouched sandwich, and a fruit cup. Coffee seems to be the only thing that he's taken in from what was served. "I'm sending over the proposal right now. I know, I know it's three days too late, but I'm hoping that when you look it over, you'll be impressed with what I've written. Of course. Yes. Yes." While he's on one call, his phone alerts him to yet another incoming call. One of his tenants. This, he will ignore for now.

There's a knock on the door, somewhere in the midst of Byron detailing the proposal he'll be sending over. A knock, a pause, and then a click as it's nudged open, presaging the arrival of a certain police captain. Dark suit, shirt and tie. He's not wearing coffee on it, despite the close call out in the corridor. He is, however, accompanied by a smarmy looking lawyer in a (much nicer) suit. You win some, you lose some.

"Mr. Thorne, may I come in?" Considering he's already done so, the question seems rather redundant. The man gets a quick once-over as the cop approaches, file folder tucked under one arm, fleeting smile at the corners of his mouth.

Using both of his hands, including the supposedly injured one, Byron taps out a few things onto his laptop and presses send, his head is leaning off to one side as he works to hold his phone in place against his ear. This sucks without his headset. Seeing the door swing open, he can only expect it to be a nurse or Vivian, but no, it's the cop. He gives Ruiz what would look like an absent nod, the way his eyes continue to scan his screen full of business information.

"I have another call right now, but please, take a look at that and I'll talk to you in the morning. Thanks." Click.

No longer needing to crane his neck just to hold his phone, he stretches it out as he sets the phone down onto the bed beside him. "Captain de la Vega. To what do I owe this honor?"

Thorne looks well-rested enough, even if he could use a little trim of the beard. He seems to have let it grow out over the past few days.

The cup of coffee and untouched food, likely courtesy of the hospital's cafeteria, are noted absently as Ruiz crosses toward one of the visitor's chairs that sits beside Byron's bed. "I don't know if I would call it an honour," he's honest enough to admit as he settles in. Not that he got an official answer, really, to his question. But sit he does. The lawyer, probably, is going to find a spot to loom in. His presence doesn't seem to deter the captain, who's probably well-versed in such people.

"I'd like to ask you a few questions. If you're feeling up to it." He extracts a pen and notepad from inside his suit jacket. The notepad looks to have been scrawled on prior, and he flips to a fresh page.

"I expected someone to do so," Byron will admit, his eyes lingering on Ruiz now, "I'm a little surprised that it's you, Captain."

The lawyer, or that particular lawyer, was not his idea, but he appreciated the effort that Glass had gone through for his benefit. So when the man stands there, ready to raise a hand in telling his client to shush, Byron gives him, at the very least, a nod of acknowledgment.

It's back to Ruiz now that his attention turns, though he does reach out a hand to grasp at that cup of coffee now, taking a long, thoughtful sip.

The cop's expression is difficult to discern. He sort of studies Byron thoughtfully for a moment or two like he's considering asking a follow up question to that. But then elects to skip right over it, in the end. The folder is divested onto the little end table by the man's bed, and he clicks his pen on and gives it a test scribble, as if making sure it's still working. "Why don't you tell me what you recall from the incident at the bridge." The incident. It's a very neat and sanitised way of referring to what happened out there. His dark eyes shift to Byron's for a while, returning his study as the other man sips his coffee.

Byron doesn't know Ruiz very well, though they've done 'business' before and he seems to have a relationship with one Alexander Clayton. After a moment of observing the other man from over the rim of his coffee cup, he returns it to the tray, his hands now folded within his lap. He keeps this constant gaze on the Captain, he's obviously thinking of what he'll say next. Then this comes out: "Do you want the truth, Captain? Or would you prefer something that you could actually report on?" Something sane.

Ruiz doesn't seem bothered by the scrutiny. But you make captain in a precinct like this one, and you've probably got to have some kind of balls to go along with it. He waits, pen in hand, his frame overlarge for the chairs they provide for visitors. Slightly slouched, his fingertip looped at the neck of his tie for a moment as if to loosen it a fraction. "Why don't we start with the truth. And you let me decide what I can and can't report on, Mr. Thorne." He doesn't break eye contact with those words, and doesn't smile.

Idly licking at his lips, tasting the coffee that lingers there, Byron then nods. "The incident started long before the final act at the stone bridge." Reaching for his laptop, he lowers it down to a close just so that the screen is no longer in his way. "So if you wanted the complete story, we would need to start from there." While he may have closed his laptop shut, he reaches for his phone now. Not to answer it, but to scroll through the notes he'd taken there. "June... 29th. A man came into the Harbor Mist Pawnshop, needing a bus ticket out of town. He looked desperate, he looked homeless. He also seemed very afraid. In exchange for bus money, he wanted to pawn off this box. Saying that whatever's inside is worth more than what he's asking for."

He continues on, "He left in a sudden hurry without the payment and without the box. Then we, did the unfortunate thing, and opened it. We opened up all the boxes within the first. Like some sort of Russian stacking doll set. Until we reached the final box and the content within."

Ruiz starts writing as Byron speaks. Much of this information is new, judging by the look on his face. When the date's offered, it's scribbled in the margin and an arrow drawn to something else he's written. "Who is we, Mr. Thorne?" is asked rather flatly, his pen poised to note this down as well. "And tell me a little bit about what you found inside. And what happened next."

Byron knows that this would sound crazy to most people. Those who don't shine. Ruiz, however, had that glow to him, even if it's still unclear to Byron just how deep the man has gotten into when it comes to the darkness surrounding Gray Harbor. "Lilith Winslow and..." There's a bit of a pause here as he considers the next person, "A Brit who Lilith knows. Goes by the name of Carver."

With that said, when asked about what they'd found inside, his jaw tightens, "It was a ring. An amethyst ring of, perhaps, Egyptian design, I think. I'm no expert. Once it was exposed to us, at first, you could feel this seductive force wanting us to touch it. Or, that's what I'd felt, before this heavy feeling of dread came over me. I believe the Brit felt that too-- but Lilith, she was still drawn to the ring. I tried to snap the box shut before she could touch it, but I found out later than I'd done so too late."

Lilith Winslow is jotted down, with another arrow linking her to the pawn shop. Then Carver with a question mark beside him and something scribbled in Spanish alongside.

"What happened to the ring after that?" he wants to know. More notes scribbled, and the word RING in captitals is emphasised idly with little flourishes of his pen while he listens to Byron speak. "How was.. Carver involved in all of this?" He, of course, wasn't one of those found at the bridge.

"Carver, supposedly, can enter... dreams." Byron isn't sure if that's the right word for it and it does sound crazy. "So in order to keep the ring from Lilith, I told him to take it. And what did he do when I wasn't looking?" There's just this little hint of annoyance in Thorne's tone, "He brings it back to her." He then considers this question of what Carver's part to play in all of this is, "I can't tell you. Lilith paid him to act as body guard in the case that anyone was looking for the ring. But usually, when I went to visit, he was nowhere to be found."

Taking another sip of coffee, Byron skips ahead in the time line, "More like what happened to Lilith after she'd touched the ring. For a good full week, her life was in danger. She either accidentally fell down stairs or things accidentally tried to fall on /her/. Then at the very end, she got into that car accident. Her car was wrapped around that tree. So I, as a friend, had had enough and I outsourced some help. Pulled in an Archeologist, who might have read up about cursed rings and a detective friend of mine."

Well now. That seems to pique the captain's interest. His pen pauses above his notepad for a moment, and he re-reads what he's written a couple of times before looking up to the younger man quietly. "Mm," is all he says for a moment. Then, "Carver. Tell me a little more about him. Is that a first name, or a last name? He is a friend of Lilith's, you said?" There's a slight nod when the car accident is mentioned. Of course he's familiar with it. Though he wasn't one of the officers on the scene, he makes it his business to have a bead on most of the precinct's goings on, as Thatchery's oftentimes proxy.

There's a slight smile at the last, and it creases the very corners of the Mexican's eyes. "I don't suppose that archaeologist's name was Isabella, by any chance?" He doesn't even bother asking after the latter, and instead scribbles down the name Alexander, and draws an arrow pointing to RING.

It does make Byron wonder what's with all of these questions about Carver. Then again, the man was there for the initial drop off. "Alister Carver. That's all that I know about him. He 'found' Lilith at her Pawnshop and when she'd first mentioned him, I was wary. Now? I'm still wary, of course, but he could just be incompetent and not have a care in the world when someone gives him a task to do." There's a pause before he adds in his own flat tone, "He's also haunted. But that's neither here nor there."

The rest is of more importance to him as it helps to frame the timeline of everything that happened. "You'd be correct. Isabella Reede, she was a friend of mine in school. And the P.I. Magnolia Jones. In fact, I'd hired her to try and track down the man who dropped off the box at the pawnshop." He then adds a little bit of history, "We were both children of police officers, Magnolia and I. Met one another as kids at some GHPD family softball game."

Maybe de la Vega is just an inquisitive sort of man. Maybe his curiosity's been piqued by the first thing said. Carver, supposedly, can enter.. dreams. Maybe he's just covering all his bases.

The man's name is jotted down, with a question mark and something about following up with him later. Then he glances up, curious, when Magnolia is mentioned. She's added to his little network of interrelated pieces. "Is that so." Children of police officers. "Mother, father, or both?" He eases back in his chair to regard the other man more fully, dark eyes narrowed a touch in consternation.

Though Byron had brought it up, he didn't expect Ruiz to have any interest in family relations. Then again, maybe he did. Very often the families of police officers are a close-knit group. I mean, they have picnics and play softball together. Bonding, that's what they called it. And very often their families were dragged into all of it.

There's just this flicker within his eyes, Thorne's gaze shooting at towards the Captain, perhaps curious as to the inquiry. It doesn't linger long, his eyes lowering when he starts, "Fathers. For both of us. Both of whom died in the same year. One in the line of duty, the other..." His father, "Couldn't cope with the stresses of the job." Or so that's the story. He continues, "I didn't really care for the family events, but you make some long lasting friendships with those who share your experiences." A pause, his gaze finally lifting to meet with Ruiz, "Do you have children, Captain?" Then up goes his shoulders into a brief shrug, "Maybe they'll enjoy these life-long friendships as well."

The cop sits quietly, attentively, while Byron seems to weigh his words and decide what he wants to say. The flicker of curiosity is noted; the captain's gaze does not waver. He looks tired, though that slouch to his shoulders could be insouciance rather than physical exhaustion. "Mmhm," is his absentminded murmur as 'fathers' is mentioned. Something is scribbled off to one side of the page. His gaze shifts back to the younger man at the question, though. And something about it seems to pull him out of his thoughts. He draws a breath, sniffs slightly, and returns to his writing after a moment. "No." His tone of voice is measured, and there's a twinge of something in his jaw when he says it.

"Tell me what happened when you arrived at the bridge, Mr. Thorne."

Thorne can only nod at the response given on whether Ruiz had children. There's a slight lift of his brow, perhaps had was taking an internal bet with himself on what the Captain would say. Then the question comes out and here Thorne lifts a hand as if to interject, "There's a bit more before we reach the bridge that plays some importance in all of this. Whether we realized it at the time or not."

His posture somewhat relaxed, his back resting fully against the stash of pillows behind him, he starts again, "Lilith didn't think it was a good idea to expose others to the ring. I wanted to find a way to break this curse, this tie she had with the ring, so my research team was called in. I'd told them all to stand back, if anyone was touching the box, it would be me. Then I showed them the ring. Even took pictures of it on Isabella's phone. Nothing happened. No urges. No need to try and stop anyone from lunging forward in an attempt to grasp for the ring. Nothing happened the way things did during the first exposure. So I closed the box and had it locked up. Back in the safe."

There's this brief pause, before he bites down gently at his bottom lip, "Was I ever wrong to think that."

Ruiz looks for a moment like he might take issue with the redirection. He works his jaw slightly, notes something else down as Byron speaks. "Elaborate, please." Hey, at least he said please. "Why do you say that.. you were wrong to think that? What happened?"

It's as if Thorne were weaving a strange tale, but this was Gray Harbor, so such a tale would be the everyday norm. His gaze lowers to view his bandaged wrist. Though it's been treated, it's almost as if he could still feel the throbbing pain of cracked bone there. "I got a call from Alexander Clayton. He wanted confirmation on whether Isabella was in contact with the ring. So both myself and Doctor Vivian Glass," His girlfriend, "went to check on them. That's where we found Isabella apprehended after having gone on a mad rampage against Clayton for this desire to possess the ring."

He clears his throat here now, his chin lifted, eyes on Ruiz once again, "I.. didn't realize that I, also, was being influenced by the ring. All I knew was that I couldn't let Isabella get to it before I did. She tried to convince me, of course, but to ensure that she would stay out of my hair, I was insistent that Clayton watch over her. " Here, he takes in a deep breath, that look in his dark eyes hinting at his displeasure at the part he played in all of this. "From there, it was a race to getting that ring. One that now leads us to the stone bridge."

Ruiz is making notes while Byron speaks. Vivian's name has some detailed observations made beside it, as well as Isabella's. Alexander's, too, with arrows leading back to the ring. And then the ring, to the bridge. He scratches at his beard with a thumb, then asks, "Was Dr. Glass also affected by this.. ring?" He looks back to his notes, and gestures with a slight motion of his hand. The backs of his fingers and knuckles, and likely the entirety of his arm is scrawled in ink. "And then tell me what happened when you reached the bridge."

"No." Byron says easily enough when it is Ruiz who brings up Vivian's name. "She was not present at the pawn shop when I'd allowed the others to see the ring. The idea of them seeing it was so that they could more easily research the damn thing, something far easier to do if they knew what it looked like. From what I'm told Magnolia Jones wasn't affected by it at all, but I think that Isabella Reede may have been from the images of the ring that I'd taken for her on her phone. I cannot be completely sure."

"In fact," He continues, "Since Mister Clayton was adamant in helping me look for Lilith, I sent Vivian to watch over Isabella at the Reede family boathouse. To appease Clayton, though I didn't meet with him. I went off on my own to find Lilith, because I didn't want... no I didn't need anyone else getting their hands on the ring. It's a strong compulsion, Captain, that the ring instills into you. I'm not sure how, but he eventually found us at the bridge."

At this point, he keeps his gaze lowered, feeling guilt over what happens next, "Lilith was there, wearing a noose round her neck. The ring on her finger. I needed to get it from her."

Ruiz nods slightly at something, and scratches something out that he'd written on another page. And adds a note in the margin. More scribbling in Spanish, and his dark eyes are strangely placid when he looks up and asks, "So what did you do about it?"

What did you do about it, Byron? The question, itself, lifts Thorne's gaze which now seeks out de la Vega's. "I fired a shot out at her." It comes out in a flat tone, but he quickly adds, "I didn't want to. I tried to stop myself, but the grip that the ring had on me was too strong. I didn't want to kill her and yet.." His jaw sets at this moment, nostrils flaring as he breathes in a deep breath, "I think... I think I hit her. And because of that she could've fallen off the bridge and had her neck snapped."

The hand attached to his bandaged wrist clenches into a tight fist, still resting in his lap. But there's anger to be found there, the way his entire arm tenses despite the dulled pain.

"Then I felt a sharp pain in my wrist." The very one that was now clenching, "But that didn't stop me from trying to reach her. To cross the bridge and take the ring from her." His eyes had drifted from the Captain by then, only to look upon the other man once more, "Someone," Now this is a vague memory that his mind barely registered, "Tried to apprehend me at the time. Then I heard her scream. Lilith. That's the last thing I'd remembered."

Quiet from the captain, save the scratch of his pen on paper. "That matches ballistics, yes," he murmurs after a long pause to check something in his file folder. "Do you have any ideas about who might have tried to apprehend you? What did they do, call to you? Try to restrain you?" His eyes flick to the man's wrist, then back to his face curiously.

"I was this close to the ring, Captain. If they had called to me, I wouldn't have heard it." Byron will admit, his posture once more falling into a relaxed state. "I felt someone trying to physically restrain me from behind. Trying to hold me back. My wrist was throbbing, but I kept pushing on. I was /this/ close. Then something happened, I was told later that it was Alexander Clayton who subdued me with a sedative... given to him by Vivian Glass." His brows furrow a touch now, "I didn't even notice Magnolia there. Not until I was told so after waking up here." In the hospital.

Ruiz knits his brows slightly, and nods. He finishes up with his notes, pen scratching on paper for a good minute after Byron's finished speaking. Then, "I think I've got everything I need for now. As pertains to this case." A breath as he moves to collect his file folder and scuttle papers into it. "We should speak soon regarding your property, and recent events." He means the murders.

When the interrogation is over, Byron looks on Ruiz with an inquisitive eye, his chin lifted just so. "Of course, Captain. Now that my mind is no longer clouded by..." Cursed ring mojo, "the ring, I've been playing catchup with just about everything. Those murders are at the forefront of my mind." A pause, "Though if I have to be truthful, I'm not sure whether we can stop the killer."

The cop collects his file folder, and tucks his pen and notepad away from whence they came. It's hard to say whether his mind is eased at all by the conversation they've just had, or whether it's raised more questions than answers. One thing is certain: the man has a shine to him, faint though it may be. So it's possible the things they spoke of tonight aren't as farfetched to him as Byron may or may not think. "I am not convinced of that, either," he murmurs as he pushes to his feet. His expression darkens with a slight frown as he glances away, then back to the other man. "Nevertheless, your residents will feel better if they believe we are doing all we can to manage the situation." He pauses, then takes a step toward the door. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Thorne."