Stand In The Rain

After several moments, there was a silhouette behind the frosted glass of the door, followed by a voice. It was rough, and strained. THat would be because the man it belonged to was quite hungover. "What is it? I only see clients on Monday's, so fuck off." The man, 'Omeda Hirado' according to the list, seemed to be lighting a cigarette on the other side of the door. He was also one of the three that Yuyuko had pointed out.

Max shook his head, "I'm not a client, I have some questions regarding a previous client of your. May I come in?" He asked. He didn't think he would be permitted however he was up to playing "bad cop" if need be.

The man raised an eyebrow. "A previous client...? If they aren't satisfied with my work, that's their fault, so unless you've got something else to say, leave."

Max smiled. He was hoping he would say that. "Look, I just need some information. I'm willing to pay you for your time." He said. He had no intention of doing so however this man had information Max wanted. He also had an ass whooping coming to him and Max was more than willing to provide it.

At the mention of money, Omeda perked up. "You'll pay? Well, guess we can talk for a bit, come in." He opened the door, never realizing the trouble he was bringing onto himself.

Before the door opens he unfastens the clasp on his left gun. Max smiles at the man and walks in. Pulling out a notepad he finds a place to sit.

He wrote down on his paper the man's name. "This is in regards to the treatment of a client in who employed your services. Yuyuko Kurusu just to name one." He listed off a date to the man and looked at him. "Care to explain what happened on said date, i'll need your findings on her case as well. I'll pay extra for that if I have to." He asked. He was hoping the bastard would try something.

At the mention of Yuyuko, he froze. "...I don't know anyone by that name, I'm afraid you're mistaken. Now... now get out of my house..." He was not about to talk about that woman. There was no way.

Max didn't move. "She's my client. She named you." He reached in his coat and pulled out his gun. "I want to know what you know and why you did what you did. Sit down and talk." His voice was deadpan. His eyes narrowed. With his free hand he pulled out a pack of smokes and flipped one out. After lighting it her reached into his pocket and pulled out a small tube like device. He screwed it on the barrel of his gun. "Be civil now." He said as he puffed out a cloud of smoke.

The man's eyes widened, and he hastily sat down, swallowing hard. He didn't want to talk about this, but he also didn't want to be shot. It wasn't hard to decide which he disliked more. "R-right.... wh-what did you want to know again?"

Max settled back. "That's better. I want to know why she hired you, the details of her case, your findings and method of payment. Shouldn't be too hard." He said coolly.

The man quickly spilled the beans on why he was hired, along with the details of Yuyuko's missing daughter's case. His findings, as it turned out, were negligent. He'd given up after learning that there was no evidence of anything at all. That was about a week after he'd been hired. However, he balked at telling how he was paid. He was... reluctant to say.

Max shakes his head. "Look she already told me how she was made to pay. Now my question to you is as a professional, do you believe that was morally the right thing to do?" He stood from his seat and walked over. He cocked back the hammer.

Omeda shrank in his seat, stuttering. "H-hey, come on! She's a fucking prostitute, what difference does it make!?"

This set Max off. "SHE'S A PERSON FIRST!!!" He shouted and brought his gun around in an arc in a pistol whip. "If that's the case and how you wanna judge people. You're a piece of SHIT!! You want me to dispose of you like one!!??" He jammed the weapon into the mans crotch. "What do you have to say for yourself now?" He asked. His voice dangerously low. His finger was beginning to pull on the trigger.

Omeda grunted at the hit, only to freeze again when he found his private's threatened. "I.... I'm sorry! I'm sorry I did it, okay!? Get that gun away from my dick, you psycho!"

Max gritted his teeth but relaxed his finger. He pulled the gun away and brought it back to the other side of the mans head. "Find a new line of work. You give the rest of us a bad name." He said and stepped back. He pulled out a .38 special and dropped it on the floor. "Pick it up." His voice was again deadpan.

The man just stared at the gun, then lunged for it, fully intending to shoot Max with it. He didn't know what Max had planned, but he wanted him dead.

Max lunged forward with a knee thrust. He brought his elbow down aiming for the back of the man's head. "I came here to ask some questions about a former client of yours! When the questions got too in depth he pulled a gun on me! I had no choice but to defend myself!" He said and brought his gun around aiming for the other man's gun hand. He squeezed the trigger.

The man screamed in pain as the bullet hit his hand, and he dropped the gun. He was on the floor now, cradling his hand to his chest while clutching at the back of his head with the other. "You bastard... you fucking bastard..."

Max kept his face an expressionless mask. "I'm a bastard? This from a man who took advantage of a woman looking for her child?" Max took off the suppressor and pocketed it. Stepping forward he raised his gun. "I'm done suffering you." He said and brought the butt of the gun down on the back of the mans head. "You'll suffer much worse where you're going." he finished.

Omeda was unconcious before he knew what was coming, going limp on the floor. He had no idea what Max had planned but, in some ways, that was probably to his benefit.

Max holsters his weapon and pulls out a handkerchief. He picks up the fun and, placing it in the other man's hand fires off a round. He then takes his left firearm and ejects the magazine. He un-chambers the round in the barrel and slides in another magazine. He fires off a blank and switches magazines again.

He sits on the couch and pulls out his cell phone. Dialing the emergency number he stands and walks over to the .38 knocking it out of the man's hand. After he reports the "crime" He then moves to the office starts going through some cabinets while still holding his handkerchief. He was looking for anything that may incriminate the PI. Or anything to aid him in his current case.

As soon as he hears sirens he walks to the door, sits on the steps, empties his weapons and sets them down. he pulls out his I.D. and also sets it down. There was a tickle in the back of his throat and he fought it while he worked. As soon as he set his last gun down he broke out into a coughing fit. Pulling out his handkerchief he coughed into it. He coughed and coughed. it seemed to go on forever.

Finally he pulled the handkerchief away. There was no blood on it. "Good." He muttered and pulled out a bottle of cough syrup. He opened it and downed a swig. Leaning against the door he waited for the authorities.

They soon arrived. Three squad cars arrived and their doors opened. The officers trained their weapons on Max. He stood with his hands raised and stepped down when they ordered him too. They took him into custody. He sat in the back seat while they gathered his things and put them in evidence bags. He had the foresight to put the file he found on his client in a zip lock bag and stash it in a vent. He would return later for it.

Soon they took the bastard P.I. Into custody. The drugs he planted would keep him locked up for a spell. They took Max to the station and took his statement. He told them he went there to consult on a client and when he mentioned her name he became violent. He drew a pistol and tried to kill him and he fired back out of self defense. He had no choice but to subdue the violent P.I.

Soon he was released. A fellow cop couched for him. He gathered his things rent back to the privet detectives office and retrieved the file. Soon he was back at his office. "Hello? Are you here?" He asked and walked to his desk. He set the file down and reached into a drawer pulling out a bottle of scotch. "I got the file from the first detective on your list." He said and poured himself a shot.

Yuyuko actually was not there. Instead, the was a note on his desk.

'I locked up like you asked, but I guess you already noticed that. Like I said, mother was coming to visit, so I had to get home. If you have something to tell me, it's okay to drop by or call; I don't really enjoy talking with my mother anyway. Thank you again for helping me.

~Yuyuko'

Her number and address were included, as she'd forgotten she'd already given him those things.

As Max read the note he sipped his drink. He nodded to himself. As he had spent most of the day at the police station it was mostly evening. He decided he was going to visit. Packing up his folders and files into a briefcase he locked up and made his way to her place. It took him a bit to navigate his way there due to the rain however soon he found himself on her door step. Also along the way he decided he wouldn't smoke in the rain. It was a waste of a cigarette.

He reached her door and knocked. He looked at himself. He was soaked. Grumbling to himself he tried to wipe some of the water off with a soaked handkerchief.

Yuyuko's apartment was in a rather run-down area. Not the safest of areas, either. Her actual apartment, the door had graffiti on it. Various insults, mostly 'slut' and 'whore', and variations of it. It seemed Yuyuko had tried painting over it in the past, but had eventually given up. From inside as he approached, he'd hear an older woman speaking rather heatedly. "Damnit, Yuyuko! Look at what you're life is like! Look at what you've become! You are living in squalor, working yourself to death, whoring yourself out, and wasting everyone's time! You're a damned disgrace and-" That was when Max knocked, and the woman cut herself off. Briefly. "Whoever it is, leave."

"Mother, I-"

"Silence! I'm not done speaking, and you will not talk until I allow it!"