PHD #363: Damn Fine Policework
Damn Fine Policework
Summary: Kincaid brings folks up to speed on his findings regarding Piers Rene-Marie.
Date: 24 Feb 2042 AE
Related Logs: Zeus's Eagle Coming
Constin Kincaid Madilyn 
Marine Offices - Deck 6 - Battlestar Cerberus
This offices consists of desks for those under the CO, along with his desk toward the back of the room. The S1 and S2 have desks here and the place is neat as a pin, with everything in its place. At the front of the room, a Marine sits at a desk to meet people as they come in through the hatch.
Post-Holocaust Day: #363

For the second time today, Constin's knuckles rap on the metal plating of Madilyn's office. "Major. Kincaid has something you ought to hear." The big marine steps to one side to reveal said Lance Corporal Kincaid.

"Major. Gunny. Thanks so much for seeing me." Kincaid is holding two folders in his hand. One tab: 'Langer, Marissa.' The other: 'Dekker, Magnus.' They're his two major case files. "I've got major breakthroughs on my two investigations. I wanted to brief you on them and let you know my plans for my next steps."

If there was any sort of jovial atmosphere in here earlier, it's since subsided a great deal. The only things going on now are duty rosters, background checks, daily reports, shift changes, and the real nitty-gritty of everyday operations just to keep things running. "Yes, please, come in and sit down. I'm…" eager, Madilyn thinks, but that's not exactly the right word. "Curious to hear what you've discovered."

Constin pulls the door closed behind him as he steps into the office after Kincaid. He simply nods once to Madilyn's invitation for the Lance Corporal to speak, and settles his bulky frame into a chair, to turn a narrow lue eye on Donut.

Kincaid takes one of the two seats in front of the desk, placing his files down on it. "I'll start with the attack on Magnus Dekker. I discovered that the red-headed waitress I spoke to after the attack did not disclose that she was the one who had pointed out to the attackers who Dekker was and that he was involved with artificial intelligence research." He looks between the two. "I pulled her background file and discovered that when she was picked up on Aerilon, she was three months pregnant. But when I spoke to her, she wasn't showing, despite that she should have." He flips over to another page in his notes. "So I had her medical files pulled."

"So where did the lie come in? Was she definitely pregnant on Aerilon? Or was that just a cover story?" There's other options, certainly, but for the sake of politics, Madilyn doesn't bring them up here. "What did her medical history show? Everything signed off for by our doctors, I assume?" Clearly, it's impossible to pull her previous medical history.

Constin frowns and narrows his eyes in study of the files as Kincaid lays them out. The Master at Arms doesn't interject just yet, listening to the report as it unfolds and holding his tongue.

"Oh, she was pregnant on Aerilon. Her medical files showed that she came to Sickbay for a consult on an abortion; her whole family was killed during the attacks. I guess she didn't want to raise her child alone. She was turned away by a religious nurse." Danny flips through his papers. "But — pregnancy disappeared anyway, despite no records showing a miscarriage. My conclusion is that she obtained a gray-market abortion arranged by Piers Rene-Marie. That would explain why a photographer was in place to capture the attacks. Because she owed Piers a favor for arranging the abortion, and she paid it off by setting up Dekker for the attack, provoking the attackers."

"That's one hell of a payment for services rendered," Madilyn says. The look of distaste about the whole situation is very, very clear on her face, the way her nose is flaring and her mouth is turned down a bit. "And you know for sure that this abortion was arranged by Rene-Marie?"

"Huh," Constin grunts at first. "What grounds you basing that conclusion on, Donut? Cause it might make sense, but we need a whole lot more than a camera at the site of an assault to make that jump for sure."

"No. I don't have proof. But it makes the most sense; she needs an abortion and she can't get one through normal channels. Who do you go to? The fixer who makes it all happen. But I'm going to take my new partner, Lance Corporal Tate, and lean on her. She should crumble. My surveillance on her suggests that she isn't particularly loyal to Rene-Marie. Put the pressure on and she'll sell him out, as well as the doctor that performed the abortion." Kincaid shifts his 'Dekker' file under his 'Langer' one and flips that one open. "And that brings me to Marissa Langer."

"Be careful trying to sweat her out. If she is in good with Rene-Marie, he's probably keeping tabs. If he's used her as bait, or as information before, he's likely to do so in the future. I think we have to assume that the walls have eyes on Elpis. Anything we do is likely to come back to Rene-Marie. If we sweat this woman, both she and the doctor…they may very well turn up dead before we get another chance to act." What that means for operating on board Elpis, bringing new marines over when they're likely used to the patterns and behaviors of the marines rotated there, is that it's an instant tip that something's up.

Constin turns a thoughtful eye to Madilyn as Kincaid mentions wanting to question this waitress. "Withholding information from an investigation is plenty of grounds to bring her in. With all respect, sir, I don't think we can afford to let folks slip on account of what this little shit Marie might do. Whatever tabs he keeps, if the fella starts offing folks, he's gonna run out of crutches in a hurry."

"I'm not going to risk her, but she's quite frankly one of the keys to all of this, I think." Kincaid reassures them both, before he goes onto his next file. "Langer was found dead in the stairwell following the Cylon attacks that came from inside the ship. At first, it was assumed that she was just a casualty of that and the autopsy confirmed that. But an orderly — for his own sick reasons — took photos of her body that revealed that the injuries that were believed to be her cause-of-death were actually post-mortem. Her actual cause of death was a concave wound to the back of her head. It was like she was hit with something rather than fell against something."

"So, his photos were after her body was brought in and prior to the wounds thought to be the cause of death appeared?" Madilyn asks of Kincaid. "I'm I'm understanding you correctly, that is?" While they talk, she stands up from behind the desk and makes for the coffee pot there in the room. It's nasty and black at this point, from sitting on the burner too long, but it's coffee. "Care for any?" she asks, for what it's worth.

Constin grunts wordlessly, and shakes his head to the offered coffee, hunching forward to lean an elbow on the desk, as he opines, "Suggest we bring in this waitress ay-sap. No reason to let a loose thread hang out until it gets cut off, yeah?"

Kincaid shakes his head. "No. The photos were taken after both, but they revealed that the blow to the head that was believed from a bulkhead was actually inflicted after the concave wound to the back of the head and after the concave wound to the back of her head killed her." Flip. "Minutes before the Cylon attack, Langer was seen entering the stairwell with Rene-Marie. They had been lovers, but were arguing. Langer was breaking up with Rene-Marie and Rene-Marie was shouting that no one left him. He had a bracelet of hers in his hand during this fight." Flip. "And — one of the pictures reveals puncture wounds on the back of Langer's neck consistent with a bracelet."

By the coffee machine, Madilyn sips and thinks. Sips and thinks. "Okay. Bring this waitress in. I want her in our brig, and I want fresh MPs that Rene-Marie has never seen to be the ones bringing her in. I want you there," she says, pointing to Kincaid. "And you too, if you feel that would help things go more smoothly." As for the corroboration of Rene-Marie in the stairwell, Madilyn asks, "Who was it that reported Rene-Marie in the stairwell with Langer? Do we have a name and history on him or her?"

"Huh," Constin grunts again, nodding to the caveats Madilyn places on the detainment. "Can make time, sir. We pick this civvie up once she ain't in the bar. No reason to make this more public than it needs to be." As to the latter half of the Major's inquiry, he looks to Kincaid.

"Petty Officer Third Class Omar Mason. Orderly. Creepy as all frak, but he's not a liar. He's not good enough to lie on stuff like that. He's a confidential informant at this point, though. He didn't see Piers land the blow, but he saw them go into the stairwell together right before the attack." Kincaid looks up from his papers. "Doctor Adair, by the way, the one who did the analysis on the injuries for me, says that the initial autopsy report was so frakked up that it suggests that someone either deliberately lied on it or altered the report later. Mason says that the doctor that did the autopsy doesn't have any dirt, but this may tie back to Rene-Marie's inside man in Medical." He glances between the two. "So I figure if we flip the waitress, then flip the medical informant, we might all be able to link this back to Rene-Marie. So, like I said, I think the waitress is our next step here."

"Alright. The info on your Cee-Eye stays here, in this office, at this desk, until we know more," Madilyn says to reiterate the obvious. "And you're right, getting information from the waitress is the first step. Keeping the medical insider here shouldn't be hard, and if your informant Mason is any good at keeping track of visitors to and from sickbay, we might get something there. Bring in the waitress." Coffee in hand, Madilyn returns to her desk, and has a seat. "Bring her in and sweat her of information. And lance corporal? That's some damn fine policework."

"Understood. S'do this then, Donut," Constin mutters as he rises to his feet, not voicing anything on the heels of Madilyn's compliment to the deserving Lance Corporal, instead simply nodding once as he eyes Kincaid at the words.

"Major. Gunny." Kincaid is on his feet, scooping up his folders. "Thank you." For their time, for their compliments, or for something else is left unsaid. And then he's off again, Donut the Detective back on his beat.

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