2019-10-17 - Iced Tea is not in this scene at all.
Charlie and Gabriel interview the Pursleys about the Kruger case.
IC Date: 2019-10-17
OOC Date: 2019-07-16
Location: Casa De Pursley
Related Scenes: None
Plot: None
Scene Number: 2190
Arriving at the home of Joseph and Marilyn Pursley, one may come to understand at least part of the reason for this lawsuit: their house sits on a nice hill on Bayside, overlooking the harbor. Now, the harbor's not all that scenic to begin with, but with an opened casino floating in it? Yeah, it's even worse. But the house is nice, and there's plenty of room in their steep-ass driveway for the cops to park next to their overpriced cars (they drive Audis because all assholes drive Audis / all Audi-drivers are assholes).
Anyway, it's Joseph that opens the door. He's in his late-50s, dressed in some sort yuppie-at-home attire, and greets the arrivals with an amiable, "Oh right. That whole thing." He shouts into the house, "Marilyn! The police are here, I'm taking them into the downstairs living room." Then, smiling, "Come in. Welcome."
Their house is nice. There's all pictures on the wall of, like, rich-people stuff - yachts and Europe and whatever.
"Sheila. Sheila. I'm going to have to call you back," Marilyn can be heard talking into the telephone from the kitchen, before she breezes into the entryway. Her hair's did done, her nails are on point, and she's got leopard print high heels on that are probably worth more than Charlie & Gabriel's combined annual income. But whatever. Smile for the police, Marilyn.
"I was just telling Sheila how utterly bored the police must be if they're coming to talk to my Joseph," how endearing. She's got a perfect ruby red smile to match her words. "Did you check their badges, Joe? You should always check their badges."
Guess who does not drive an Audi? You guessed it! Charlie drives whatever shit car the department seems to assign for these things, because her own shit car is probably in the shop. Again.
In her detective on a budget chic she looks very much who and what she is. "Thank you Mr. Pursley. I'm Detective Morgan, and this is Detective Quintanilla..." When Marilyn turns up asking to see badges there is an amused look before she lifts the bad up to show it, adding, "Always note the numbers on it, write those down. Just in case some fake cop shows up."
Gabe will not be sick for this interview. He's dosed himself with every medicine that Erin brought over for him, including the ones that technically probably maybe should not be mixed together. But whatever. He can deal with that tomorrow. For now, he is blowing his nose one last time in a tissue and coming out of the GHPD unmarked Imapala and up the driveway. He is murder police, so he has his very best Joseph A. Banks suit on (but one, get two two-thirds off!) with a tie that probably is not one-hundred percent silk.
On cue with Charlie, he flashes his credentials, holding the wallet containing them out for the couples' view. "Thank you for taking the time, both of you."
"Of course I checked their badges," he says while checking their badges, which he was obviously going to do before Marilyn told him to. <.<
Their thank-yous are met with a sort of 'yes yes' wave of his hand, and then he leads them through the foyer and into the downstairs living room. It has more rich-people crap in it, and also places to sit, chairs and a sofa and stuff. He opts to sit in a superbly plush leather Lazy Boy, which swivels to allow him a lovely view of the harbor and that floating eyesore therein. (But really it's not that bad; the Casino kinda classes up the run-down industry that limns the bay near Gray Harbor.)
"Please, sit down. What can we help you with? My assistant said you want to talk about this whole mess with the Casino." He points to it - can they see it out there?! Being a thorn in his side?!
"Or in case you get a little handsy," Marilyn wiggles her fingers as she says this to Charlie, and then flashes a far more sly smile to Gabriel. The handsy thing probably does not apply to him, she doesn't even bother looking at his badge. Her heels make quiet click-click-clack sounds on the floor as she walks with them down to the living room, lounging on a chaise comfortably. And then Joseph says the C word. She sighs dramatically, rolling her eyes out the window.
There is a roll of her eyes for Marilyn's comment, but at least Charlie waits until the woman isn't looking in her direction, and it's mostly for Gabe. Then she follows along to the living room to find herself a place to sit, decidedly not getting handsy. "Yes, we were curious what you could tell us about the Casino, and what your take on it all was." It's huge, broad questions. She's super good at this.
Gabriel puts away his credentials and slides them into his pocket, moving in after Charlie. Like all good cops, he takes in his surroundings as they move in to sit, but he takes a spot flanking the Pursleys from the other side, so that they are between the two detectives. He nods at Charlie's question. It's a funnel! Start wide and close in.
With a warning finger poked in her direction, Joseph reminds his wife, "The man's a detective, Mar." Mumble mumble not a gardener mumble.
He sighs at Charlie's question, clasping his hands across his lap and angling his chair to the bay again. "I can tell you that it's a tremendous eyesore. Look at it out there. And Foster's a damn fool prick rat bastard if he thinks I'm going to let him open the thing in my goddamn backyard." It's totally not his backyard; it's miles form his backyard. "Oh, also, it's bad for the fish. The trout?" He frowns, then commits a nod. "Yes, the trout. They're very endangered. By it."
"He sure is," Marilyn replies to Joseph while eyeing up Gabriel like he's a giant hunk of meat. But right, right, ahem! The casino.
She rolls her eyes again when Joseph starts blabbing away. She doesn't outright say Joseph is an idiot, but the look she flashes him practically screams it. "Why is the police department interested in the Casino?" Her brow arches, but she doesn't look overtly interested in the answer. "Don't you have a serial killer to catch?"
"Not our case, Mrs. Pursley." Charlie points out gently, "And we're not interested in the Casino, per se." She reaches into the pocket of her jacket to pull out a notebook, flicking through it with a frown, looking for something. "Right, the trout." She taps a finger against the paper, like she was suddenly unaware of the fish. "Are you and Mr. Foster acquainted outside of this?"
Gabriel is, in fact, a gardener. Just not professionally. He's had his hair trimmed for this and cleaned up. (Really! It's scene 2175!) At the statement from Marilyn, Gabe presses his lips together in a tight line. "Ma'am, we're investigating the deaths of a couple that was shot in the head execution style and who were going to testify in support of your case, so you can say this is something that is well within our mission to investigate."
"We went to high school together. And we've," Joseph looks crossly back at Marilyn when he adds, "kept in touch somewhat over the years since. He's a snide little shit, and I hope he takes a bath on that floating monstrosity." Beat. "And also that the fish aren't negatively impacted - oh good lord, you mean the Krugers? You don't think - " He gasps.
But also, "I told you it wasn't a hate-crime," mumble you stupid twat mumble. Theirs is a happy marriage. <3
Marilyn rolls her eyes at the sharp look her husband throws her way. This is going to be a theme of the evening guys. She says nothing about Foster, but she does frown at her husband. "Obviously they haven't investigated well enough," she snaps back to him, before looking apologetically at Gabriel.
"Not that I'd presume to tell you how to do your job, Detective. But I did hear from Sheila Goodwin who heard from Fred Mathers who spoke to Daphne Yard and she said Charlotte Park said that Missus Kruger didn't even have her papers." Then she leans towards Gabriel, putting her hand to the side of her mouth like she's sharing a secret with him. "And I heard she's a Communist."
"I see..." Charlie does see! She makes a note of that while Gabe knocks it through the air, that reason for being here. She crosses her legs and sits back, resting her notebook on her leg, giving Marilyn a look that is mostly controlled. But there's still incredulity there. "We're looking into every potential, Mr. Pursley. And since they are part of this, we're simply looking to check off things and possibilities. I don't suppose you knew what they were likely to be sharing?"
"I'll be sure to let ICE know, ma'am," Gabe assures Marilyn, taking a strong guess that she won't realize he is being sarcastic. "We had heard that they were on your witness list for the case and that their murders have made things harder in front of Judge Shaw," says the other detective, following up on Charlie's remark. "So we wanted to figure out their role in the case."
"Mark Park - awful name, isn't it?" He looks to Charlie and Gabriel to confirm how awful it is. Anyway, "Mark Park says Charlotte's off her meds again, you know." Joseph corkscrews his finger outside his ear, makes a 'cuckoo' sound, and then takes a breath to nod after Charlie's question. "Yes, of course. They were going to tell Judge Shaw just how much of a mess they witnessed first-hand during the construction of that horrid thing. And about all the dead fish they found, washing up on the shore next to their motel and - "
Hold on, he blinks at Gabriel and asks a question only a white dude would ever have to ask: "Who's Ice? Isn't that the rapper on S-V-U, Mar? Oh, you two must know the show." Because all cops watch Law & Order, right?!
"You're a doll," Marilyn says to Gabriel in an overly patronizing (matronizing?) sort of way, before she looks smugly back to Joseph. "That's Ice Tea, dear. He's talking about ICE. You know, the illegals police," she sighs back to Gabriel and shakes her head. "Honestly, he should've built the casino about five miles to the left. But really, floating casinos are so gauche anymore."
"I take it five miles to the left would have moved it safely out of the way of the fish?" Charlie wonders, making a note about the dead fish, and the mess. But she's also careful to not just say that five miles probably moves it neatly out of the view.
The little confusion about ICE is solved without Gabe's own involvement, and so he is able to move onto the questioning aspect of this interview. He glances over at Charlie and her remark, but then adds a question of his own. "One thing I've learned in looking into this, Mr. and Mrs. Pursley, is that even a lot of the local environmental groups think this case is an uphill battle with the fish. And I know lawyers can't be cheap. Why throw your money into it? Even with your dedication to conservation?"
"Ohhh, yes. I-C-E, the deportation - well, never mind." Joseph pulls on the corner of his yuppie-shirt and looks at somewhere other than Gabriel. Ahem! He doesn't seem to get the joke about the five miles and the fish, or doesn't care enough to argue about it. Instead, he tells Gabriel succinctly, "Because Joshua Foster can kiss my ass."
The cutthroat trout are a red herring!
Marilyn was about to say something - honestly, she probably has so much to say! - but then Joseph sums it all up. Those eyes, how they roll. "Joseph!" she snips at him. "Language."
The declaration of Foster kissing his ass is not a shock, not when Mr. Pursley first started in about the name calling, and the fact that they went to school together. Nope. Nor is the language bad. However, Charlie shoots a look towards Gabriel, her brow lifting upwards before she taps her pen on her knee silently, letting him roll out any further questions if he's got them.
Gabriel is quiet for a moment, taking all of this in. "Well, Mister Pursley, let me just ask this only with us in this room, you know? What happens in the courtroom happens in the courtroom." Of course. All quite confidential. "Was the Kreugers testimony going to be real? Or did everyone know this was just a way to drag this out all along?"
For a moment, Joseph is too busy mumbling something that sounds a lot like "well, I'd say he could kiss your ass, but he's probably already done that" after Marilyn's rebuke to properly attend the conversation. So he hmmmms? after Gabriel, digging his manners back out from somewhere. "I can't imagine they were going to perjure themselves, if that's what you're asking. Honestly, I think Missus Kruger probably had some sort of attachment to the fish. She was Thai, you know. They eat a lot of fish. And her husband was just - "
He looks at his own wife. " - going along with it to keep the peace."
Marilyn resolutely refuses to look at her husband now. "She was Chinese, Joseph, Jesus," she mutters something under her breath, folding her arms across her chest. To Charlie now, she raises her brows. "Are the two of you done?"
"I believe we are." Charlie glances at Gabriel, just to make certain that he doesn't have any other question. There is, decidedly, the sort of harrassed look about her that comes from dealing with this sort of mess on top of all the other messes, "If we have any further questions, don't leave town...right?"
"Just one last question," says Gabe as he gathers himself up, rising to his feet. "Mister Foster. Did he seem overly concerned about your lawsuit? Or was this all business as usual for you two?" Because even if this might have been a harassing tactic for them.
"He's pissed away millions on that thing. I would hope he's overly concerned." Joseph smiles, appropriately smug about the whole thing. He's also pushing to his feet during his smugness, allowing Marilyn to dictate the terms of how long the detectives are permitted to stay.
"It wouldn't surprise me if he had the Krugers killed, you know. He always was a sore loser. We used to wrestle in high school and - " This is where Marilyn is going to interrupt him before he tells this story for the umpteen-billionth time.
"Oh would you please shut up?" Marilyn does indeed interrupt him, getting to her hugely expensive high heels. "Really, this whole thing is incredibly petty. 'The trout, the trout!'" she rolls her eyes. "This is just a dick measuring contest," she shoots a glare at Joseph, mumbling under her breath about knowing exactly how they both measure up.
"We're truly sorry that the Krugers passed away. We'll be sure to make a generous donation. But if you'll excuse us, Detectives," she waves a hand. This way please.
If Charlie was a lawyer she'd probably say something about wasting the courts time, etc. Instead she just looks cross for a split second, then gets to her feet to tuck her notebook back into her pocket, "Thank you for your time."
"Yes. Thank you very much. Very helpful." And so Gabe goes off out the door and back to the crappy Impala with Charlie. "Well. Looks like they didn't order a hit. And the fish may be -- I'm not even going to say it. Of course, Foster might have thought it was worth killing over, but --" He is dubious. "I need to go home and be sick and we can catch up after?" And he better hope Charlie agrees, because he is going to need to be sick ... pretty soon.
The Pursleys say pleasant things while showing the detectives to the door. They bitch at each other once the detectives are gone.
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