At the Station (TBC)
Andrei again tested the cuffs, mainly because he was bored instead of actual gauging an escape. He sitting in an interrogation room, alone, both hands handcuffed to a table. It was overkill for somebody who was caught merely sitting down at Babylon in a room that didn't even have a bed in it. But even if the detective didn't know him (the crimes Andrei was questioned weren't simple prostitution or drug ones after all) , there were plenty of other cops who did. So, apparently, somebody had decided precautions had to be taken.
And, although being bound set off this... itch... beneath his skin, he had only smirked at the extra precautions. He couldn't brag about his work here, but nothing illegal 'bout pride in one's reputation. But Andrei was a guy who was not fond of being bound, or being alone, or having to wait for however long his future Questioner had kept him waiting. And, well, even his characteristically bemused face was starting to show cracks of annoyance.
Jackson was feeling a lot cheerier after his chat with Zhen, and as such he was whistling to himself as he edged his way into the interrogation room. He raised both his eyebrows at Andrei as he entered and let his little tune trail off. Great, he thought with some annoyance, I'd forgotten how unnerving this dude is.... He sighed as he slipped into the chair opposite the clean shaven man and shuffled through the files in his hand. This one was suspect for some pretty nasty shit. Jackson didn't doubt the knife he'd been found with had been planned to stick some poor whore.
"Alright, buddy, you wanna tell me again what you were doing in a notorious whorehouse while armed? Let's make it bullshit free too, huh?"
Andrei raised his eyebrows all 'innocent-like', folding his hands together as he leaned a bit forward. "A whorehouse, huh? That explains why your boys were all over that place." Now that the detective had arrived -- and seeing how it was Haas, his arresting officer -- Andrei's spirits had picked up considerably. And the wicked amusement he was prepared to glean from the situation curled up at the corners of his mouth, twisting an innocent expression that hadn't been all that innocent to begin with. He gave a small, casual shrug. "As I told you before, Mister Haas, I was just there to talk." With that he gave a little grin, fixing his eyes onto Jackson's.
Jackson didn't have the patience for this, "Talk ain't free. Why'd you be there talking to some brothel queen, huh? Ain't no reason I can think of that's legal so let's just cut this junk the hell out." Jackson leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head, holding the man's gaze. He hated them when they played it smooth. Headache.
TBC