1142/To Question the Question or Not to Question the Question, That is the Question

To Question the Question or Not to Question the Question, That is the Question
Date of Scene:	25 June 2017
Location:	Gotham
Synopsis:	Renee is visiting a murder scene she shouldn't be at, and runs into The Question.
Cast of Characters:	Renee Montoya, Question

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Renee Montoya has posed:
    It's late. Pretty late. Just past midnight. And, outside the building, is parked a beat up, old sedan with a good hundred thousand miles on it or so. The sedan, dark in color, belongs to one Detective Renee Montoya.
    Inside the building, having moved past the 'police tape' that same person is looking over the crime scene, her flashlight on - and the blinds closed so as to minimize the light show that might slip out of the room that was, a day ago, a bustling crime scene. A crime scene which Renee had not been assigned. A crime scene which Renee had been told was -not- related to the other two murders, one two days ago, and one three days prior to that - all in different mannerisms. One, a shooting. The second, a poisoning. This one, a throat-cutting.
    Yet, all the murders had taken place within a three block radius of where Karrin Murphy had last been known to be. And, had started soon after her disappearance.
    Renee looks over the file on the case she 'borrowed', comparing notes, and the tags, and photographs of evidence on scene. Comparing. Bringing up the imagery in her mind of how it played out.
    "There's something you're not seeing," she tells herself. "Something they're not seeing too. But what is it?"

Question has posed:
The Question says, "That's the question, isn't it." says a masculine voice from the shadows.

A lone figure steps in front of one of the windows, back lit against the blinds to only show his silhouetted form. The only details visible are the shape of a fedora style hat on his head and the long drape of a trenchcoat. The figure has his hands raised to show he is unarmed, keeping them there as he speaks, "To close together to be random, but to different to be a pattern, unless the pattern IS in it being random."

The figure remains still, obviously aware that surprising a armed officer could led to fatal mistakes, "You know this is tied to something, you know the truth is there to be found and it is gnawing at you. Trust me, I understand.""

Renee Montoya has posed:
    Renee has good reflexes. And she'd thought she was alone. She hadn't heard anyone come in. Or observed anyone when she first came in. The door to the building had been locked. But, Renee has good reflexes. She turns, and is already aiming her sidearm directly at The Question without approaching him. The fact he's already showing his hands is perhaps, what prevents her from firing initially. Good things his instincts in human behavior are as sharp as his ability to discern the pattern.
    "I know that strange men in crime scenes they shouldn't be in is usually a perp returning to the scene of a crime to get evidence they think, or know, the police missed initially," she retorts back, without missing a beat.
    "Keep your hands where I can see them." With her other hand, she shines the flashlight towards that silouette. "Who are you?"

Question has posed:
"That's a good question." says The Question with a hint of humor in his voice as the light shines in his direction, "One I ask myself constantly. I'll be sure to let you know once I figure that out."

He keeps his hands where they are, as he lifts his head just a bit more to allow the light to wash over his featureless face, "Perhaps it is one you should also be asking yourself, Ms. Montoya. I would say officer, but you're off the clock. Here are some other questions for you. Did I have the drop on you? Would I announce myself if I was here to do you any harm? Can I lower my hands? Let us see what answers you come up with."

Renee Montoya has posed:
    Renee's eyes narrow. He knows her name. He knows her duty assignments. This is not any street criminal, by any strech of the imagination. And - he's talking to her unlike any criminal in her experience. Answering questions with questions? Sure, that's a thing. But, his intended to be towards a purpose, rather than to be sarcastic, or trickery.
    The wheels turn in her head. "You could be trying to mislead me," she states one of the thoughts in her head, aloud. "You could be one of those types who get a thrill off watching people try to figure out your 'work', analyze you. Like the Joker does."
    She shakes her head, dersively. "I should know better to ask someone their name in Gotham. Alright. What do I call you, then?"

Question has posed:
"The Question. At least that is what I have been called in the past." says the faceless man with a roll of one of his shoulders.

"All those are very good questions to ask yourself. The answers to each of those are important, but what does your gut say, Renee? May I call you Renee?"

He continues on, without really waiting for an answer. "But, if I was someone who wanted to be analyzed, why wouldn't I leave a calling card or moniker? Wouldn't I want to be recognized? Wouldn't I want to have my name in the papers?" He lowers his hands to his side, taking a step forward towards the bloodstained outline of where the body was at one point, "If I was trying to mislead you, would I point out how the blood pools here slightly more." he says, pointing to a spot on the floor. "There isn't a void in the splatter, but there is a slight difference to the pooling. What does that tell you?"

Renee Montoya has posed:
    Renee lowers her firearm, but does not holster it. She leaves the flashlight on him for a few moments longer too, staring at the faceless mask, before moving the flashlight to the spots he's pointing towards. "That's where the artery was struck, and the victim began to bleed out, entirely." She frowns, looking back, "But the body was over there. On the couch. And they determined the body hadn't been moved."
    She looks back to the man, "So. Question." The names irony, and the ones he's asking aren't lost on her, "Is this what you do? Try to figure out mysteries behind the crimes, when the police are away?"
    She doesn't appear to think of him as a threat, any longer. Mostly. But she's still not sure what to make of him. And the questions he's asking, the facts he's presenting, are somewhat disturbing, but not on a level that makes her mistrust him. On a level which makes her question the GCPD. And herself.
    But then, the Question, probably, has had that effect on a lot of people.

Question has posed:
The Question says, "Sometimes." says The Question. "Crime scenes are just questions that need answers, and I seek answers...or more to the point the truth. The two are not mutually exclusive."

He rises from the squatted position by the stain and looks over towards the couch. "So, if the body wasn't moved from the couch, but the arterial bleed was over here, how could that be possible? Either the forensics team made a mistake or...?"

He turns his face to look at Renee, seeing if she has an answer of her own."

Renee Montoya has posed:
    "Or, the body was drained of blood," Renee concludes, her mind whirring, moving to the only solution, however impossible it could be, "And moved over there, since there isn't any other blood, between there, and the couch." The autopsy hadn't come in yet, and such information wasn't available, either.
    Her frown deepens, and she looks back to The Question, "But - who would want to do that." She's not thinking of 'what' yet. "And, how." The frown remains on her face, and she moves the flashlight over the floor near where the pool he'd pointed out to her is. And, around the general area, looking for other things.
    She moves down on one knee, apparently discounting Question as a threat, completely now as she turns her head to focus on what she finds, running a finger over a series of odd, deep clawmarks in the wooden flooring. "What the hell?"

Question has posed:
Taking a step back away from the officer, The Question gives her some room to work and remain out of 'threat' range. "Who is the wrong question to ask at this point. The right one would be why. Why would they drain the body? Figure out why, you are likely to get the who, what and how. Also, this brings into question another why...why was this body drained, if this is connected to the other murders?

The Question start to wander around the perimeter of the apartment, his blank visage making it difficult to see where he is looking. "What the hell indeed. I don't think those were made by a dog, do you?"

Renee Montoya has posed:
    "Not any dog I've ever seen. So. Why. And. What." Renee, perhaps unlike other people the Question might've tried to help, Renee seems to be embracing the crazy. Or, starting to see the very edges of the pattern. And accept it. It's leading her somewhere. Where, down the rabbit hole, she's not quite certain of. But, it's a tangent she can see.
    She feels the depth of the grooves with the pad of her finger, "I suppose it's too much a man who asks me three hundred questions about the crime scene has any forensic tools on him?" She asks, with a bit of dry sarcasm, as she finally turns to look back up at Question.

Question has posed:
Sorry, I think you have me mistaken with some guy in a pointy eared cowl with a utility belt." says The Questions, a hint of a humor in his voice. "That big yellow belt clashed with my sense of style."

The Question moves over to a desk in the apartment, and starts to rummage through the drawers, "But, I tend to find what I need if I know where to look, or why to look for them. For example, the victim is female, kindergarten teacher. Playing the odds that she would have school supplies at her residence..." He reaches into a drawer and pulls out a bottle of rubber cement and tosses it towards Renee. "It'll do for a makeshift impression."

Renee Montoya has posed:
    Renee catches the bottle, admitting to herself without saying it that the man clearly has done this before. She nods, silently, and gets to work making the makeshift impression, pouring the rubber cement around the grooves to make a thick pool for it to gel together. And, slowly, but assuredly, harden as much as it will, so she can pull it up. "Clearly you've done this before," she mentions to him, her tone still dry. "Haven't seen you before. Or heard of you. So, you work for the Bat?"

Question has posed:
"You think?" asks the Question, his head cocking to the side slightly as he regards Renee. "Maybe once or twice." As an answer to her second question, he laughs while shaking his head. "No, I don't work for the Bat. I've met him, and he doesn't tend to play well with others. But then again, I suppose I could be accused of the same at times. I've been around, but I don't have some fancy spotlight or suped up cars. Perhaps I should get a better publicist? I used to call Hub City home, but have been out this way for some time."

Renee Montoya has posed:
    "Welcome to Gotham," Renee says, yet again, with that dry tone. "Just be aware that most of Gotham's finest would have you in cuffs, right now." She assesses him a moment there, crouched as she is over the drying rubber cement. "But you already knew that, I imagine. So what makes you think you can trust me?" No. Renee isn't comfortable with letting things be. She continues to press. To ask the Question questions. Until, apparently, she's satisfied with what she hears.

Question has posed:
The Question rolls one of his shoulders in a shrug and he continues to wander around the apartment, looking at various objects at random. "Had you attempted to arrest me, you would have had to explain what you were doing in a crime scene, off duty, with police files that probably shouldn't be out of the department." He turns his lack-of-face towards hers, "So, I took a chance."

"Besides, you would have had to get handcuffs on me first." Something in his voice betrays a grin where his mouth should be. "Don't assume that would have been an easy task."

Renee Montoya has posed:
    "Yeah, well, looking for Karrin seems to not be as a high a priority as people are claiming it is," snarls Renee, a bit passionately. "So, it's on me to find her. I might be a cop, and I might have to follow the rules, and law, for justice. But that doesn't mean I have to accept certain things. And it looks like my hunch paid off. How? I don't know. But, something is up here." She remains crouched, and is now watching Question, like a hawk.

Question has posed:
The Question says, "What makes you think the two are connected?" asks the Question. "Detective Murphy was taken by Two-Face if I recall correctly, but these murders don't have any obvious, or unobvious, connections to his obsessions with duality."

The Question stops, squatting down an arms length away from Renee as he looks towards the claw marks on the ground, reaching out a gloved hand to run a fingertip along one. "I don't believe the two are related, but it wouldn't be the first time I have been wrong.""

Renee Montoya has posed:
    "Because I think Two-Face is behind these. That there's a reason he took Karrin. Maybe -I'm- wrong. But either way, there's more here than the department knows. Or admits to." Or maybe Renee just feels she has to do -something-. And since Two-Face hasn't made a move -since-, this is the only thing she -can- do to feel she's contributing. Maybe both.
    She dabs the rubber cement pool, and feeling it's dried as much as it will, she slowly pulls it up, to reveal the makeshift impression of the claws. "You find anything else, over there?"

Question has posed:
The Question says, "Maybe." he says as he continues to run his finger along the claw mark. "Nothing that will shed any light onto this unless you have access to a lab. Keratin shavings, likely from the claw that made this mark. Could get DNA, possibly, but likely wouldn't be useful in the long run."

He turns his face over to Renee, "We agree on one thing, something else is going on here other than what it appears on the surface. I would, if I were you, revisit the other crime scenes and see if you find any answers to the new questions.""

Renee Montoya has posed:
    "I'm sure I'll see you around. When I'm not expecting it. First Batwoman. Now you." Renee laughs, wryly, briefly. She moves to stand up, dropping the impression into a police evidence bag. "When I do, I'll let you know what I found."
    Renee pauses, as if she were about to say something else, before she begins to move towards the door. And unless he addresses her, she's not looking back for one last look at the faceless man who seems to be even more mysterious than the Bat.

Question has posed:
The Question says, "Oh, of that there is no question." says the faceless one as he stands and fades into one of the shadows the darkened room provides, likely exiting the same way he made his way inside."