Tempered Glass

Red Rock 
@Péter Bognár
outfit plus visible badge around neck

Walking into the front door of the practice, Dakila took a steadying breath of the air conditioned atmosphere and suppressed a wince at the potent and distinct scent of medical equipment. Would he ever get over the hyper-awareness? Alina had assured him it was only going to get "better" and he was... wary of this. Better in what sense?

To say he understood the reason why Alina had told him he would need to take a sabbatical from his work for a while after the full moon was... an understatement. He already felt little out of his depth. Like the world was slightly askew and he didn't entirely know how to exist in it just yet.

So, volunteering to go take down police reports about smashed car windows, it was!

He walked to reception and flashed a smile instead of his badge at the young brunette, not here to throw his weight around because as far as anyone knew at this point it was just a case of vandalism, and the dude had called them. Totally chill. "Afternoon, I'm just looking for Dr. Bognár?"

The brunette would have asked if he had an appointment, but Péter was just stepping out of another appointment's room when he saw the officer. The badge gave him away, and he cleared his voice to call his attention past the receptionist to the hallway he was standing in.

"Officer Tomas, I presume. If you would like to speak in my office."

He would raise a hand in that gesture of "please follow me" before proceeding to lead the way. The office was decorated with large plants near the windows and a cherry wood desk, framed diplomas and awards and the like. No frames of family, other than aged sepia toned photo of his father from back home.

He gestured to the plush brown leather seat, before reclining into his own across his desk.

"Thank you for coming so quickly," Péter said, honest even if he felt he was speaking to a child.

The man in question appeared not a moment later, and offered his office to speak in. A smile to the young receptionist, a nod of thanks for what little she'd had to do, and he was off down the hall and into the back towards the office, well accustomed to how these things went. An office, a side room, some quick corner where they could talk without a dozen eavesdroppers. Everyone paid attention whether they consciously chose to or not when a conversation with a cop was going down.

He sat as indicated, not about to hover needlessly, either. He reached into his jacket for his pen and otherwise had his pad before him, to jot down the details as they came. For now, though... "Of course, sir. No point to leave you hanging. When and where did this incident take place, exactly?" he asked, starting at the top.

The boy was at least competent enough to follow him without delay. As they settled in, Péter nodded to the questions.

"About noon, Ravenswood. A twenty four hour McDonald's."

He could spill more details, but the poor cop wouldn't be able to keep up writing that fast, he was sure.

A quick and practiced hand took down the details legibly, and when he had those few down he clarified, "The one on Grove Parkway?" Just to be completely accurate. He glanced up at the man as he pushed onto the next inquiry. "So you've said someone broke a window on your vehicle?" It was time for a game called 20 Questions with Detective Tomas.

Sure Grove Parkway, we'll go with that under the assumption that was definitely the same McDonald's. Péter nodded.

"A girl, tall, brown hair, thin, white. We had a disagreement in the establishment because she was sleeping at the only table that had seats available."

There was the incident with the soda, but that was... an accident. Or at least, he would say as much if asked about it.

"She ambushed me in the parking lot. Attempted to take my food. I pushed her away from my car door so I could get inside. She produced some sort of blade and struck it into my window."

The alleged perpetrator that was described fit the bill of many, many people. Not unusual, but that always made it difficult to do much with. Still, Dakila kept comments to himself for the moment and wrote out what he was told deftly, occasionally in shorthand so that later he could transcribe this more completely in type.

Sounded a bit like an unruly teenager to him, and maybe it was all just that until... He looked up, brows lifted at the mention of the blade being used to break the window. "While you were inside the vehicle? Were you injured at all?"

Was assault, either way, on top of destruction of personal property. Dakila automatically wondered what the girl's side of the story was, but that was neither here nor there, and he was unlikely to find out. So he could only deal with the facts as they were given him now.

"I was not inside when she went for my car. I was however outside when she decided to punch me in the face."

A point to his nose, which sported a bruise. Faces were sensitive things.

"You will be able to pull security camera footage, yes? This child seems to be a vagrant who knows what she is doing."

Okay, not assault, just straight up battery. He gave the man a briefly sympathetic once-over and nodded before he added this to his notes. "Okay, did she threaten you with the blade at all?" This was important if they did manage to find her. "We can definitely pull footage from the lot. How old do you think this girl was?"

If she was just a teenager this might be trickier--and perhaps even more vital. Youth who were already acting out like this had a lot to overcome. Dakila was just... thinking. If she was indeed vagrant, or anything close to it, maybe she needed help. Or maybe she really just needed a serious wake-up call. Or maybe she was just dangerous! Oh boy, the amazing possibilities. Never dull, this job.

It was a nice distraction from his own whatevers.

Did she? He tilted his head thoughtfully.

"I cannot remember if she waved it at me or not. She seemed content to throw a swing with her fist instead. I would say she was around seventeen to nineteen. She seemed malnourished."

There was no pity for her in his voice. She also seemed capable of getting a job, if she could do all that.

"You're definitely looking to press charges, then?" Just to be clear. He shifted in his seat, reaching for another notebook in his back pocket. This he flipped open to take down note to go and pay the McDonald's a visit, took note of the time window they were going to need to look at. Wrote 'troubled?' for note of his own thought and then put it away again.

"If I can get a look at your vehicle, as well. Do you have it here?" Presumably he did, but sometimes people made strange decisions when under duress.

Well of course he was going to press charges. This wasn't some insane fanged bitch telling a cop to shoot him.

"That is my intention. And yes, it is parked outside. I did not have time to clean the glass in the back seat."

Péter would rise to lead him to the parking lot, grabbing hold of his car keys.

Some people just didn't want the hassle, so Dakila always found it worth asking. This sounded a lot like a difference of opinion gone incredibly awry, but if Dr. Bognár didn't feel like letting it go, there was definitely a tort here at the very least. And the girl could stand to be found regardless. Someone willing to throw down in a parking lot in broad daylight with someone... several times their age... was typically not of the well-adjusted category.

Dakila stood, a glance around the rather professional office space, and then he would follow the doctor out to the damage vehicle.

Out they went.

It was the left rear window that was shattered, the blade having struck it with incredible force and precision. Glass everywhere around the back seat.

"How long do you think it will take to find her?"

Dakila leaned in to take a look at the shattered glass without actually touching the car. Not that there was any likelihood of dusting for prints or something in this scenario, but... habits. He took a few notes, then went around to the vin on the car to take note of that as well. Make, model...

The question wasn't that unusual. But it wasn't going to come with a very satisfying answer. "Depends. Based on your description she could be nearly anyone. But if she gets picked up on another charge at some point, that would make things pretty quick." And if she was half as much trouble as Dr. Bognár seemed to feel she was, that was a pretty high possibility. "If that happens, we'd probably want you in to identify her." Depended on how things went.

The words smacked of incompetence.

"That is what security footage is for, is it not?"

"Security footage isn't likely to be as clear as your own eyes are," he said, offering a smile as he finished jotting down the last numbers he needed. "Your positive identification would make us a lot more certain we have the right suspect, especially since we have no other identification than that her description." A nod. It was standard enough.

They all wanted to get he right girl, yeah?

Really, it seemed impossible that they could not identify the woman somehow from footage taken not only in the parking lot but from the several cameras that would have been in the store. In full daylight. Likely in color.

He had to assume they simply did not care.

"Lófasz," he muttered, if mostly to himself. Very unimpressive. If he found that bitch again, he'd be sure to take a picture since the police were so damned useless.

"I take it you are done here."

"Sure thing," Dakila said, flipping his notebook closed. "I'll be in touch if anything arises. And if you happen to see her again, or need something else, let us know." Dakila doubted that. This sounded very much like a one-off incident, untargeted. But you never knew for sure until all the facts were on the table.

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