Buford Croaker (buford_croaker) wrote,
Buford Croaker
buford_croaker

Please, let's do this the hard way.

Official Ministry Logs - Pensieve of Interrogation
2000, 08, 25
1300 hours

Subject: Greengrass, J. - Suspected Death Eater
Personnel: Croaker, B. - Unspeakable, Jennings, M. - Recorder




Croaker paced around the outer edges of the small room. The suspect was tied to a metal chair in the center, sweat already pouring down the man's pale, puffy face.

He was an older man. Clothing appeared worn but cared for, although there were several ragged tears and dark stains that signified a recent struggle.

Croaker lit a cigar and puffed. Once the tip was burning merrily, he circled the room once more and then stood in front of the suspect.

"Greengrass. We already know all about you, about the men you - socialize with. Make it easier on yourself and admit it." Croaker examined the end of his cigar, not bothering to look at the man in the chair.

"I told you before, I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're lying, Greengrass. I could use Veritaserum and get my information that way, but there's no skill in that, no finesse." Croaker crouched in front of the chair and smiled a hollow, unfriendly smile.

Greengrass shook his head, torso pressing against the back of the chair as if he was trying to get away from the Unspeakable. "There's nothing to tell. Nothing." His shirt was soaked through with sweat.

"What about your wife, would she have something to tell me?"

"No. No, leave Diane out of this." Greengrass paled even more and seemed to shudder. "Please stay away from my family - stay away -" his pleading was cut short by the back of Croaker's hand.

The Unspeakable stood and hit him once more. "Stop sniveling."

Croaker crept around the chair, Greengrass straining to see the other man behind him, and leaned down to put his face next to the suspect's. "Give me what I want and I'll leave your family be. Or not. I've got all the time in the world."
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