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Wyatt Wyatt slowly guides Salvatore into the Sheriff's Office, letting him lead. He keeps his six shooter aimed from the hip at the lower back of Salvatore, becoming quite bored on the long walk from the casino to the station.
Salvatore Hands up and palms out for most of the long trek from the casino, Salvatore "Happy Sal" Castruccio keeps a thin-lipped expression on his face all the way to jail. When they finally arrive into the office, he drops his hands a little bit and slows his pace. "You wanna explain why you're pullin' me to a vacation I didn't ask for, copper? There I was, peaceful like a priest, just trying to lay down some clams, when you start pulling heat on me. So. What's the story?"
Stockton A few deputies are still milling around, the Sheriff himself is sitting at his desk. Stockton is a rather large man and it's hard to miss him when he's got that cowboy hat on and the duster with the badge. Shiny fuckin' thing annoys the piss out of him to be honest. He's got a cigarillo in one corner of his mouth, the tip smolder some as he puffs on it. Muttering under his breath he signs off on a document with something that looks like a signature and not a pictograph. "You," he points at a passing deputy, while rolling up the parchment he just signed, "Run this to Kit-- Mayor Caine," he has to resemble decorum in the work place. His face wrinks some at the jowels as he frowns, eyes shooting up at the entrance of Wyatt and his "guest". "Evenin' gents," he says with a tip of his hat, his focus shifting from arrested to arrestee, his scarred eyebrow lifting as the cigar changes sides in his mouth, "What's 'is crime, Deputy..." he squints some, there's been so many new faces behind badges lately.
Wyatt Wyatt rolls his shoulders, eyeing Sal with a 'are you serious' expression on his face. He reholsters his revolver into his gun belt around his waist before looking over to the Sheriff, having not been aware of his presence in the room. He places his hand on Salvatore's back, pointing towards a chair infront of Sheriff Stockton's desk, an indicator for him to take a seat. "Deputy Brunson, Sheriff." .. "Initally, it started as detainment for questioning but Mr. Castruccio was less than compliant. It took some time. But I believe his failure to comply can be overlooked. He's just here to be asked some questions, Sheriff."
Salvatore "Deputy Brunson pulled his gun on me, came up behind me when I was layin' down cards at the Silver Dollar, put it to the back of my fedora, and told me I had to come with him or he'd take me on a long walk off a short pier," Salvatore speaks up, before shaking his head. "Say, sorry, heaters, I got that wrong. He told me he'd shoot me full o' lead and leave me full of more holes than a leaky canoe. Room full of people heard it, but nobody - including me - heard nothing about any reason for me to go to visit Uncle Paulie." He gestures around at the police facility, plainly indicating that if his uncle isn't actually here, he's probably locked up somewhere like this. Although maybe not named Paulie. He makes a step or two towards the chair, mostly to turn so his back is away from the law. "Any idea why I'm here, or you still figurin' something out, Johnny?" This last bit is to the deputy.
Wyatt Wyatt places his hand on Salvatore's right shoulder, since he didn't take the prompt to sit down. He slowly walks him towards the chair, removing his felt hat from his head to reveal sweaty and matted brown locks. "Sit." He stands behind Salvatore's chair, facing the Sheriff. "I was prepareed for Mr. Salvatore to pull a fast one on me, as I know the type." He places both of his hands on Salvatore's shoulders, lightly jostling him back and forth. "To insure my well-being aswell as others in the establishment, I didn't let him have that opportunity. I closed the gap."
Stockton Stockton's face remains flat like granite, his arms slowly folding over his chest as he listens to Wyatt. Then goes to a squint, "Deputy Brunson was it?" His fingers lift to pinch the bridge of his nose, "First'n foremost, yer takin' the cuffs offa the feller b'fore I lose my calm. Secondly, I don't know how the law was upheld where you come from? But we don' bring folk in fer questions at the point of an iron." There's a grimace as he looks at Salvatore, then back to Wyatt, "Now what'n the hell made you pull a gun on an assumably peaceful feller playin' a card game exactly, what did he /do/."
Wyatt Wyatt nods his head, "Deputy Brunson." He rubs the underside of his stubbly chin before tracing his index finger over the length of his oiled moustache, shaking his head. "Sheriff, Mr. Salvatore was never placed in cuffs, as he resisted restraints." He slowly pulls up on his pants, "I have intelligence leading to believe that Mr. Castruccio is an affiliate of a dangerous and murderous crime family, and I wasn't going to let him get the jump on withdrawing a firearm if that was his intentions." He attempts to justify his procedure, keeping his hands on Salvatore's shoulders. "I proceeded with caution with my means of defense, my firearm."
Wyatt Wyatt says, "So, assumably, he wasn't peaceful and I was using neccessary precautions to keep myself and others safe, Sheriff."
Salvatore In another time, or another moment, Salvatore would very likely resist any attempt to guide him to the chair. It's more than likely he'd require to be beaten or cajoled into taking a seat half a yard away from a jail cell. As he's not alone with Wyatt, however, Salvatore gives no resistance, and takes a seat. "I guess now's as good a time as any to mention I was hopin' to take a meeting with you, Sherrif, at your convenience." He pauses, raising a free hand to adjust his fedora. "Say, imagine me not wanting some Johnny-come-up-behind packin' heat who didn't even decide to tell me he was the law, put some bracelets on me, see?"
Wyatt Wyatt takes his callous hands off of Salvatore's shoulders, walking from behind him to the side of the desk. "A lawful order is one that must be followed." .. "You were made aware of detainment, and correct me if I'm wrong, but I told you my name and my rank within the department, and you had even addressed me as a 'Johnny' before I had said a word to you."
Wyatt Wyatt says, ""Sheriff, if it's alright with you and there's no further qualms, I would like to commence with questioning.""
Stockton Stockton blinks slowly up at Wyatt, "Uh-huh? What intelligence? You have an informant? Someone to point a finger? You have some shred of evidence I could use in a court room that says this man has broken one of El Dorado's laws?" He's moving to stand to his full height. It makes that booming voice resound a little better, and now he's no longer looking up at anyone. The near giant of a man leans onto his desk and looks at Salvatore. "You got somethin' to say regardin' /this/ matter, speak up. Otherwise we can have a pow-wow in a second," he assures the man before looking up at Wyatt. "Yer gonna learn this sooner'n later, kid, so let me speak this as plain as I can. If the fine people of this city don' feel respected by the law? They don' respect it in kind. You'll get more people actin' kind an' professional like. If you think this feller'd get the drop on you? Practice until he won't or it won't matter, cuz the second you misjudge a smilin' face they'll knife yah in the spleen. Now, unless you got somethin' more'n 'I heard a rumor' this man is free to go if he so wishes."
Salvatore "We gotta guy in common, is all, that I think we'd both like to see accept an invitation over to dinner, see?" Salvatore responds to Stockton, letting that matter drop as the Sherrif and Deputy start discussing his fate. He does note, to Wyatt, "I called you copper, not Johnny."
Wyatt Wyatt shakes his head, "I didn't say he broke any laws, Sheriff. That's why it's detainment, not arrest." He places his thumbs in his belt loops, looking down at the top of Salvatore's head. "The reason he's here is to gain more information than I already have." He jerks his thumb towards Salvatore, holding it in the air pointed at him. "Respectfully, if you let this man go Sheriff without any questioning, you will be doing a disservice to the community." He folds his sleeved arms over his chest, itching the bridge of his nose momentarily. "It's common knowledge of a strong presence of the Solomon Crime Family in town, and this guy is no better, but wants him just as much as we do."
Wyatt Wyatt says, "I'm already sensing subterfuge from Mr. Salvatore's behalf, and he's not giving the full story. It leads me to believe he has something valuable, something that he's hiding."
Stockton Stockton sighs, "And what is your information, Deputy? Or is that card yer gonna play close to chest, cuz respectfully," he snarls just a little, "Yer doin' the badge a disservice by playin' lone ranger. Now out with it. What the hell do you have on this man. And why the hell d'you think yer gonna get anything outta him other than a /respectful/ 'fuck off'?"
Salvatore "Is that how you tried makin' friends as a kid? Throwin' rocks?" Salvatore asks of Wyatt, before leaning back in his chair a little bit. "Say, 'cause all I got now is a blank memory and a craving for some hootch. Might've been pointing a gat at my head that did it, maybe not, I can't remember. Seem's like if I'd been asked like a gentleman, maybe this whole memory block could've been avoided, see? Or, I would think that, if I didn't think I was coming down with a heavy case of amnesia in regards to whatever the hell it is you wanna know."
Stockton Stockton gestures at Salvatore, "A respectful 'Fuck off'." Reaching up to pull the cigar from his mouth he exhales to the ceiling and gives Wyatt a moment to gather his thoughts.
Wyatt Wyatt places his hands behind his back, standing in somewhat attention to address the Sheriff. "I've recieved an anonymous tip, and the moment that 'fella walked into the casino I heard 'mafioso.'" .. "Subterfuge." He places his hands into the front pockets of his cotton trousers. "I brought him here for questioning, I'm in the business of getting information that will stop crime."
Wyatt Wyatt says, "Sheriff, if you wish to release him, it's your discretion above all things. I've been doing this for many years aswell, and I could get him to talk if'ya gave me the means to keep him for questioning."
Salvatore "Wait, I just remembered something." Salvatore pauses, before smiling over at Wyatt. "Your sister said to tell you hello, after I kicked her out." He lifts his chin, because this is usually the part when the completely legitimate businessman gets socked by a detective.
Wyatt Wyatt looks back at Salvatore hearing his remark, heaving a small sigh. "Mhm." He looks back at the Sheriff.
Stockton "I'm in the habit of upholdin' the law, son. And until this man has /broken/ the law, we do not and will not hold him against his will or at gun point. El Dorado is a bastion of civili-fuckin-zation, and I will be damned if my department is goin' to backslide into wild west bullshit. An annonymous tip's about as good as Ma Volkner readin' tea leaves and us foundin' city policy based on that. If I could hold a man on conjecture alone, Solomon woulda been in chains long b'fore Joe Caine and the Marshall chased 'im outta here. I appreciate yer experience, Deputy Branstun, but this isn't yer department, and this ain't how we work. You wanna change that, you run fer Sheriff next election," the cigarillo is put back in his mouth and he chews on it kinda hard, grinding out some frustration. "Now, go to the Saloon, tell Willow I sent yah, work out whatever tension you got, and come back when yer ready to approach yer position with some sense." Looking at Salvatore, he nods, "I apologize fer the inconvenience in yer day, yer free to go."
Wyatt Wyatt takes his hat off of his head in a sign of respect, holding it against his chest. "Understood, Sheriff." He replaces it back on his head before walking towards the door, twisting the knob.