Connor had settled in nicely into a government issued apartment building. After the emancipation of the android peoples, the country was all out of sorts in trying to place them all. Homelessness was already at an all-time high and adding a whole new population to the statistic would only make it worse. On top of that, a lot of humans were still not entirely comfortable with the thought of androids being people and having their freedom. Life continued this way for the androids for two years. With the dawn of a new year, and the election of a new President, more and more humans were growing to accept the android people into society. Now, on his way home from work, Connor was only greeted with one or two sneers instead of the usual crowd stopping to try and rough him up a bit. He had grown accustom to the hatred of some, much to Hank's dismay.
The older man had once tried to get Connor to move into his home with him. He had a spare room that wasn't being used after all. But Connor refused, stating that he wouldn't want to impose. Of course, Hank argued, and Connor ended up caving, staying there for only a month or so before the apartments became available. Hank visited him often over the next few months after he moved, gifting him a futon when he found out that the android only owned a single folding chair. He didn't ask. He just showed up one day with the thing in tow knowing full well that Connor wouldn't refuse it if he brought it with. He was right. The android man didn't want Hank lugging the thing back to wherever he got it from after he went through the trouble of bringing it to him in the first place.
Hank would bring things over every time he visited. The futon, a coffee table, coat hooks, towels, and various other articles of furniture and knick knacks. He claimed all the things made it feel 'homey'. After a while, Connor started looking for his own things to place in the space. He had grown accustom to Hank's fondness for hideous things and found himself wanting more of it. He found paintings and goofy statuettes to place about. And on one trip to a local consignment store, a slew of very ugly shirts. Hank laughed when he saw them and praised the android on his tastes. He wore them only occasionally, but always proudly.
After work one night, he made it home safely, unlocked his door, and hung his DPD jacket up on a hook. His apartment was small, only a studio with a very small bathroom consisting of a standing shower, sink, toilet, and a chipped mirror. Connor was okay with it. He didn't need that much space, he didn't even really need the bathroom, though the occasional shower was nice when he got particularly dirty from work. He went to settle in on his rickety futon. Just as he sat, his LED began flashing yellow, indicating a call. It was Hank.
"Hello, Hank." Connor answered. "What seems to be the matter? You're not planning on bringing me more furniture, are you? I told you, I have plenty."
"Shut up. It's work, kid." The gruff man answered. "We gotta new case. I'll send it to you. Meet me at the station."
"Alright. I'll be right there." He ended the call and pulled up the case file that was sent to him, briefly going over it before standing and grabbing his jacket to leave.
The cab ride to the precinct was fairly quick as his apartment building was only a few miles away. It pulled to a halt outside and he stepped out into the vibrant Spring grass. Momentarily, he shielded his eyes from the bright parking lot lamp before he headed inside. Hank was waiting at their desks when he got there, data pad in hand and foot tapping.
"What took ya?"
"Sorry, Hank. I had just gotten back home when you called." Connor looked over the older man, his hands neatly folded in front of himself. "Why were we not called about this case earlier? I would have liked to visit the crime scene. Where is the suspect?"
"She's in the interrogation room." Hank gestured with a jerk of his head and he crinkled his nose up. "Gavin's been in there with her. He got the case first, but Fowler thought he would need help seeing as how she's not talkin to him n' all."
"You let Detective Reed interrogate her?" Connor's brows furrowed for a moment before he turned on his heel and marched over to observation room one. Upon opening the door, he was greeted with Officer Miller at the desk. He stood next to him and watched through the glass as Gavin sat across from an android woman. The woman's LED was a steady bright red and she kept her eyes down, visibly shrinking herself away from the man. She was shaking. "He needs to get out of there. She is clearly uncomfortable with his presence."
"That's what I told him, but he won't listen. You know how Gavin can be." Miller sighed and looked up towards the android man. "Maybe you can try."
"I will." Connor leaned down and opened the intercom. "Detective Reed, that is enough."
"Connor? The fuck you want?" Reed sneered and strutted out of the interrogation room and over to the observation. "What? You think you can do better than me?"
"Yes." Connor nodded slightly, hands still folded neatly. He was trying to hide his happiness that Gavin had finally stopped calling him 'Plastic'. "She is obviously uneasy around human males."
"Fine. Go ahead." Gavin gestured towards the glass. "If you think you can get her to talk, then by all means."
"Thank you." He left observation and entered the room with the woman. Slowly, he sat opposite of her and did a quick scan. WR400, previously known as a 'Traci' model. Serial number 836 717 846. Goes by the name Penelope. Her pale freckled face, outlined by her long ginger hair, was spattered with red human blood. It was on her torn clothing and hands too. He made a note to analyze that later. "Miss Penelope? My name is Connor. I'm a detective here. Would you please elaborate as to what happened? We don't have that many details."
"W-what…" Her blue eyes snapped up and stared at Connor for a moment before darting to his DPD jacket and then his LED. She visibly relaxed, albeit only a little, and her stress dropped down to 65%. She lowered her gaze again to stare at her own hands, cuffed on the table. She trembled and tears began to form in her eyes. "I…I didn't mean to kill him."
"What happened between you and Mr. Harolds?"
"I…" She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I had a bad day at work. So, I went to that new bar downtown. You know, the one that sells that new android drink. I…I wanted to try it. Uhm and…" She opened her eyes again, briefly looked up to Connor before glancing at the camera and the mirror.
"It's alright. I am not going to let Detective Reed back into this room."
"I…thank you."
"Please, continue. You went to the bar after work?"
"Y-yeah…Uhm, I got that new drink and then…there was this guy at the bar. I thought…I thought he was kinda cute, so I let him start talking with me. He bought my drink. And…he must have done something to me because the next thing I know we're at the motel. A-and he's…he's trying to take my clothes off and…I tried to fight back but I…I wasn't strong enough." Her voice broke and she pulled her arms as close to herself as she could with the cuffs, synthetic tears streaming down her face and mingling with the blood. The rest of her words were lost in her sobs. Connor's brows furrowed again, and he stole a glance at the mirror.
"Miss Penelope…" He spoke slowly and calmly to her, tapping into his new emotions. "I am sorry, but…I have to ask you to continue. We…we need all the evidence we can get. The whole story. That way none of this can be used against you."
"I…I know." She sniffled and attempted to wipe the tears away with the back of her hand.
"Here." Connor reached into his jacket and pulled out a pack of tissues, offering it to her. She gladly took it and cleaned her face.
"Thank you." Connor just nodded in response and waited for her to regain her composure. "Uhm...he didn't uhm…just as he was about to…I uh, I managed to reach the lamp on the bedside table. And I...I hit him over the head with it. But he just kept coming, even more angry...so I kept hitting him. Until he stopped. The uh, the maid heard the noise and opened the door. And now I'm here…"
"Why didn't you run away afterwards? Or hide? I'm told the cleaning staff found you sitting on the floor by the window."
"I…I was scared. I didn't know what to do. It was like…I was frozen." Penelope stared off, eyes wide. Connor just nodded in response.
"Thank you, Miss Penelope." He folded his hands on the table and looked her over. "I just need a few more things from you."
"W-what…?"
"I need a sample of the blood on your person and I also would like to look through your code to see what Mr. Harold may have done to inhibit your memory. Have you already run a diagnostic?"
"Y…yeah, ok." She nodded and held out her hands. Connor took a bit of the blood on his finger and deposited it into his mouth, matching it to the deceased Kent Harolds, 35. One record of public indecency. Penelope just watched with slight interest. "And yes…I ran a diagnostic. I didn't find anything. But maybe…a specialist would?"
"Thank you. And yes. If you did not find anything of use, I'll have our android diagnostics team take a look, if you don't mind." Connor stood from his seat and made for the door. He stopped just before opening it. "I...will send a female officer to take you to get cleaned up."
"…I would like that. Thank you, Detective Connor." He gave her another nod before leaving the interrogation room. Upon leaving, he almost ran into Gavin who had been waiting in the hall for him.
"Detective Reed." Connor gave the sneering man a curt nod before walking off to his desk where Hank awaited.
