2013.12.27: Turfwar Part 1

Turfwar Part 1
Detective Glover meet professor Beckett
IC Date	2013.12.27
IC Time	11:45 P.M.
Players	Lana and Beckett
Location	Prospect Police Department HQ
Prp/Tp	Turfwar
Spheres	Law, Mortal, Mortal+, Psychic, and Sorcerer

Lana bursts through the door out of the interrogation room, growling in frustration. "Fucking criminals" she mutters, plopping heavily in a nearby chair. She leans her head back against the top of the chair, using her hands to cover her eyes.

The professor arrives later than he expected. His contract with the college stated clearly he might get called out as an interpreter - but he never really gave it any though until after the phone call. At best he thought maybe at the hospital? A police precinct never even occurred to him. But there you have it. He rushed from that point on, even taking the time to don a suit, a nicer one actually. So at first glance he looks like a lawyer walking in, but no. No a lawyer wouldn't look so uncomfortable. He pauses at the front desk, thumbing through his hastily written notes. "Yes sir, I'm professor Beckett. I was told a Detective Glover needed a translator?" The desk Sergeant, lifts a bushy brow, then half turns to glance back towards interrogation, "Glover! Got a professor up ere' says he's lookn' fer ya."

Lana bolts upright. "'bout damn time. What did you do, drive the scene route along the coast?" Lana grumbles as she gets up. The question was clearly rhetorical, because immediately continues talking. "Better late than never anyway. Get over here. I'm Detective Glover, and in this interrogation room is a man that one of my fellow officers assures me is speaking Japanese. I'm told you speak Japanese, so you'll be helping with the interrogation. Any questions?"

Beckett gives the grizzled old desk sergeant an unsure look, but the man just grins and opens the small half door for him. "Thanks," he says with a dower expression. Then he walking towards Lana. "Sorry detective, I'm new to the area." He stops at polite distance from the woman, offering her his hand as he glances into the box at the man inside. "Bastian Beckett, and your fellow officer is right." He turns back, resting his hazel eyes on the brunette. "He's definitely Japanese." Unlike a lot of Westerners - Beck can tell the difference. The hint of Irezumi peeks from beneath his right shirt cuff helps. "Would it violate any laws if you didn't tell him immediately that I'm an interpreter?"

Lana grabs Beckett's hand tightly, giving it an almost painfully firm shake. "It wouldn't be against the law, but anything he said before I informed him would get thrown out of court pretty damn quick. I will be telling him immediately, naturally. You're only job is to translate what he says as accurately as you can as well as possibly mention any cultural references I might miss."

Beckett's grips seems like it could be a strong thing, but he doesn't use it in that way. A keen detective might take note though of the calluses along his palm though. He works with his hands, unlike the average professor. In addition, there is the cold steel of a wedding band. "I see." He mulls her answer over for a moment, looking in again on the suspect. "Well, for starters I'd be willing to bet he's Yakuza. Likely just a foot soldier, but initiated enough to keep his mouth shut."

Lana nods at the guess. "It seemed likely that he was part of something like that. I picked him up trying to steal a car. I'm just looking for a lead to anyone, his place of business, a fellow car thief, anything I can use to start building a case for organized crime."

Beckett lifts a brow at the Brunette, considering her for several moments. He knows the Yakuza far better than any American ever should. He fights an inner battle to warn her about just how dangerous something like what she suggests could be. But that would be rude. She's the cop - who is he to tell her what leads she should follow? If nothing else, Growing up in Japan has taught Beck to never, under any circumstances, be rude. "Would it be permitted for me to talk with him, alone? He may say something to me that he wouldn't to you detective." Alone being a relative term. There is always the observation window.

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======--->
Lana rolls Perception + Empathy  vs 6 for 4 successes.
<-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

Lana's eyes narrow as she peers at Beckett. "It would be highly irregular to conduct an interrogation like that. There is a good chance you'd violate some rule or another and get it all thrown out of court," she points out while she peers at him. "What aren't you telling me, professor?" she asks bluntly.

"We're both gaijin," Beckett says using the Japanese term with fluidity and accuracy. "It is the Japanese word for foreigner, meaning non-Japanese, alien or outsider. You have an even larger handicap Detective. You're a woman. Nothing you can do will make him respect you. If you did manage to crack him, he'd lose so much face among his peers that he'd need to commit seppuku to regain any honor for himself, or his family." There is a pause where Beckett turns and looks into the interrogation room, considering the young Asian man sitting there alone. "He doesn't know me. If I just walked in there, in a suit, carrying a briefcase..." he turns back to Lana, smiling slightly. "He might get the wrong impression. Like maybe I was an attorney. I couldn't tell him I was of course, but isn't that the part he's at in this process?"

Lana sighs heavily at the woman comment and shakes her head. "If it's necessary, I can watch from observation, but there will need to be some officer in there with you. However, he has not expressed a desire for an attorney or to remain silent, yet. They are only provided at request, and since we can't understand him, he can't request. One of the first things we'll have to do is read him rights, in case he does actually have a legal right to be in this country. Any deception would instantly nullify any evidence he provided. We wouldn't even be able to use it for a warrant."

Beckett notes the sigh, and purses his lips in a brief frown. "It isn't you detective. It's a completely cultural issue. I have no doubt you can break any suspect you sit across from otherwise," the professor says in lieu her gesture. "I understand you have rules that you need to go by. I can respect that. Do we know his name, or any prior history at all?"

Lana shakes her head. "This is not normally information I'd give a translator but ... he had no ID or papers, his fingerprints weren't on file, and no one could understand his name even if he said it to us. He was caught in a Hispanic gang's turf, but I doubt he's a member, and he was stealing a Toyota. That's all we know."

“I see,” Beck says casting another look at the young man. “Is it permitted for me to ask him is name before the interrogation begins?” He glances back at Lana, pretty sure what her answer will be. No detective likes to sit down in an interview without having a little information under their belt.

Lana considers it for a moment. "That should be fine. I can have them run the name while the interrogation, progresses. One moment." Lana walks away briefly, ducking into another room, and returning with a stocky older man with brown hair dressed in a dress shirt, slacks, and a tie. He also sports a badge and gun, a revolver. "This is my partner, Detective Pierce. He'll be in there with you for the investigation, since I would be a hindrance."

The professor shakes hands with Pierce, then holds up a hand at Lana. “Give me just a second.” He then turns and sticks his head in the interrogation room door, nodding to the suspect once his attention turns towards him. “What’s your name?” He asks in English. Smart cookie that professor Beckett. The suspect replies in Japanese, repeating the same words he had earlier with several other officers. But adding a few more this time. Beckett plays dumb, which isn’t hard since he’s an American. “Oh, okay. Where are you from? China or something?” The suspect snarls his reply, spitting out a string of guttural Japanese where the only word recognizable by non-fluent people would be: Japan.

Lana smirks at the response. "Well I guess that disproves the whole, doesn't speak any English theory. What got him so riled up?"

Beckett closes the door, and turns back to Lana and her partner. "His name is Orochi Katsuma. The rest of that after his name was a series of insults about my parentage." He smirks, obviously unaffected by the man's taunt. "He didn't like being thought of a Chinese, which I suspected he wouldn't. He mentioned the Yamaguchi-gumi clan. They are Japan's largest and most infamous yakuza organization. Judging by how easy that was, I would say I was right. Definitely just a foot soldier. And yes," he shifts his gaze to Lana, "Your correct detective. He speaks English perfectly."

Lana nods in thought at the new information. "Well that's at least something to go off of. I think I've seen that Yama name in a report before. Do you think you'll be able to get anything else out of him?"

“Possibly. He doesn’t know who I am, or that I understand what he’s saying. I’m open to ideas, detective.” Beckett refrains from mentioning the only language he possibly might answer to is violence. That likely wouldn’t go over well in a police interrogation room, true or not.

Lana taps her chin while she thinks. "We really need a friend of his, someone we could use against him if he was caught. It might not be hard to trick him into calling someone, but all we could use the evidence for is cause for a tail at best. Tricks are not something you want to have come up in court."

“You said he was in Hispanic gang territory,” Beckett notes, recalling the comment. “That doesn’t bode well, detective. Culturally speaking, it would be taboo. Yamaguchi-gumi Yakuza family is an extremely violent gang. From what little news I’ve watched since arriving in California, your Hispanic gangs are similarly violent. This may be a preamble to something much larger.”

"That's why this particular suspect is so valuable. Normally someone low level like him wouldn't even be worth trying to turn. They never know enough to get to anything high up," Lana explains. "But with a possible turf war brewing, we need to know something to keep the streets safe."

Beck understands the plight, he truly does. Unfortunately he’s all too familiar with the closed-mouth mentality of the Japanese. Such a cultural trait if tripled among the criminal element. “The best I could see happening here, is extrapolating something between what you find out about him through his records, anything you locate in recent reports, and your interrogation.” And even then it’s a long shot. That much is plain on Beck’s face.

And so it begins…