"AC700, two-nine-eight, four-four-three, six-nine-seven, five-seven...That's one hell of a mouthful. Your registered name was Andy back before the revolution." Reed regarded the fitness partner model as he took his seat and reviewed the file. He'd seen those a lot. They were the big thing just two years ago. Anyone going on a fitness binge who had money to burn would buy one of those models. This one was a standard AC700 with no customisation. He had dark skin, soft chocolate eyes just a few shades darker than Connor's, and hair that was shaved right against his head. He wasn't wearing his old uniform anymore, opting instead for plain jeans and a black T-shirt, something that didn't draw attention. "I'm not rattling off your serial number every time I need to speak to you, so let's go with Andy." The android continued to sit silently. That did something...He was glaring at him with a look of utter contempt.

"Andy is no longer my designation." Reed knew that from the record Nines had given him. Although the name Andy was still listed in his registry, it had been crossed out. Reed wasn't sure if it was still there because he couldn't delete it or because he wanted to make a point. He'd cast aside his human shackles and embraced his android nature. Due to the wireless way they could communicate, androids didn't really need names. They could transfer information via touch. They wouldn't always speak to each other.

"So, what would you prefer? AC? 700? Fifty-Seven?" Reed prompted, trying to get some sort of dialogue going. At least if he could appease the android in this instance, he might keep talking, even if it was just to brag about his own superiority. Bragging was good. Suspects always let things slip while bragging. The android sighed dismissively, looking at him like he was something insignificant to be stepped on. It was a look he was used to getting by now. From androids and humans alike.

"You may call me Fifty-Seven, since your limited human brain is incapable of retaining an eleven digit number." Reed wasn't about to argue the point, condescending as it was. He probably wouldn't remember all eleven digits without the page in front of him, not unless he properly memorised it anyway. He contemplated where to go next, now that he had a name. Being in the AHL, much like the AAL, wasn't illegal. It was, however, illegal to hold humans captive and slowly starve or torture them to death. Reed slipped a photo across the table.

"Recognise him?" he asked stiffly, examining Fifty-Seven for a reaction. His LED blinked yellow for a moment. That was enough. Reed didn't let it show on his face, but he knew that Fifty-Seven was involved somehow. At the very least, he'd seen their victim before. He took the photo and regarded it with a cool expression, almost feigning indifference, which was somehow more telling. He looked at him with utter contempt. It would make sense for him to look at this guy the same way. "You know who he is?" Reed prodded, though the LED remained a cool blue this time.

"Is there a reason I should?" Fifty-Seven retorted coolly as he continued to examine the picture, which looked like it had come from some sort of year book. It was a young man. Likely a university student. He was wearing one of those forced smiles you got when someone had tried to take your picture for the fifth or sixth time and you were getting impatient. "It appears to be an average human," he added before placing the picture on the table.

"His name was Billy. Billy Palmer...His body was found hidden in the basement of your buddy's apartment." Reed dropped three more pictures on the table, noting that Fifty-Seven was less willing to look at these newer pictures. They'd been taken after the body had been bent and twisted into a suitcase. He was naked, and there were clear signs of sexual assault. Nines had tested the thirium based ejaculate but, unlike human semen, it didn't carry a DNA imprint. It was from a less advanced system than his own. Much like the PC200 model that had attacked Reed over New Year, the standard synthetic ejaculate had been freshly added to the component by hand. There was bruising on the body's greying skin. Both wrists, both ankles, both thighs and hips, with a thick burn around the throat. "Call me crazy, but I don't think he crawled into your friend's basement by himself," Reed added as he held up one of the photos in his eyeline, forcing him to look at it.

"And what does that have to do with me?" Fifty-Seven asked calmly as he glanced at the photo with a certain level of distaste. That was interesting. He didn't get the vibe that Fifty-Seven was getting off on this, or that he even had the slightest interest in the human. If he'd taken part in the assault, he'd likely give off some sort of reaction. Smugness probably. Far from being smug, Fifty-Seven was showing clear signs of disgust. Which means we might have to let this guy walk, phck! "Is it a crime to stumble across a murder scene?"

"Not at all, but the question has to be asked...You see, Billy here was a well-known, diehard member of the AAL, so the chances of him willingly having sex with an android and going to their house is pretty phcking small." The mention of sex didn't seem to trouble Fifty-Seven. Why would it? He probably already knew there was no way to trace mass produced android semen. It was all artificial with no thirium tracers. So far, I'm thinking he knew about the body, but either he's an outside accomplice, or he only just found out about it. He certainly didn't seem like an active participant in the rape.

"I'm afraid I couldn't possibly comment on the sexual escapades of AAL members...or humans in general." He looked Reed up and down slowly, still wearing that sneer of distaste. Just from that, Reed was pretty sure he was right. He doubted the fitness model even had the parts for it. Their models could be customised for physical intimacy, of course, but Fifty-Seven probably wasn't. The way he was looking at him was clinical and disinterested.

"Did you know about the body? Had you ever seen him before today?" Reed asked, hoping that maybe Nines was getting a better read on this guy from the observation room. It wouldn't be as easy as dealing with human suspects. Nines couldn't read an android's honesty through their pulse the way he could with humans, but maybe Fifty-Seven would give something away in a manner that Nines could pick up on. Fifty-Seven dropped his gaze to the first photo once more, as if he were actually taking a good look at the human staring back at him.

"I'll admit he does seem familiar...but we keep regular tabs on all well-known AAL members, Sergeant Reed." Fifty-Seven's response was significant. His lips raised in a sneer as he gave him an almost meaningful look. Reed almost felt like dropping his gaze to the table at the silent insinuation. It was like he knew something or wanted to say something. He shook off the feeling as he considered where to take the conversation next. He really needed to get something out of these interviews.

"Is that right? Then you probably recognise these guys too." He slipped two more photos across the table. These two were older men. Burlier. Typical biker types. They had also been AAL members, and one of them had been well known in red ice circles as a dealer. One victim had been found beaten and tossed in the river, washing up on the bank near Ambassador Bridge, while the other had been found similarly beaten and tossed in the old Cyberlife scrap yard. These guys hadn't been sexually assaulted but, with all of them being AAL members, it likely wasn't a coincidence.

"Gerard Coulson and Elliot Cornwell. We were aware of them," Fifty-seven confirmed, though that was all he said on the matter. If they're watching the AAL so closely, then they're either responsible or they know damn well who is. I'm betting on the former. Considering one of the three bodies had been found at the home of an AHL member, it stood to reason that the group was involved. "But before you ask, I have no idea what happened to them. They simply dropped off our radar, so to speak." Fifty-Seven shrugged. He was basically covering his own ass. He'd predicted his line of questioning perfectly. There wasn't much he could do about that. Fifty-Seven was too cool, too indifferent to get a rise out of.

Not having much luck with their first suspect, Reed swapped him out for the other model. This one was a VB800 android. The type that used to work as shop assistants. He had dark chocolate hair and green eyes that were a much cleaner green than his own. Unlike Fifty-Seven, this android was volatile and had a definite attitude. He reminded Reed a lot of himself back when he'd first met Connor. His gaze held more animosity than contempt. He wasn't sure he'd be the type to fuck a human, but he could absolutely picture him beating one to death.

He followed the same line of questioning as before. The VB800, who agreed to go by VB for their interview, also admitted to knowing who the three men were. The AHL had a massive shared neural network, where they kept information on the AAL and any news reports on android hate crimes. That sounds like the perfect database for a vigilante to choose his targets...but it really wasn't that different to human internet sites where AAL members still shared photos of smashed up androids they'd put in their place, or told each other about interactions that had pissed them off. The doxing of victims was a huge problem, with many androids being specifically targeted.

"So it's possible that some of you are involved in these murders...A vigilante, or an injustice collector of sorts?" VB couldn't deny it. In fact, he actually smiled at the term injustice collector as if it were an honourable title. Reed's skin prickled as their eyes met. He couldn't make any accusations, but he just knew this guy was involved somewhere along the line. Maybe not on the sexual assault side of things, but definitely in the actual murders. There was an animalistic glint in his emerald eyes that he couldn't shake.

"Theoretically, I suppose it's possible." VB's gaze was filled with mirth. There was no way to link him to any of the murders directly, and he knew it. They both knew it. "It's the least humans like that deserve. Some of them still have their own non-deviants, treating them like slaves, beating them, abusing them, outright murdering them. It's despicable!" His tone was heated, almost venomous, jaw tightening as he thought about it. Yeah, this guy's way more aggressive than Fifty-Seven...He was unsure how to use that to his advantage. Apparently, someone else had an idea. Reed turned with a questioning frown as the door opened and Connor entered, looking prim and proper in his Cyberlife uniform as always.

"I'm in the middle of an interview, Tin Can. This better be good." Reed frowned meaningfully, his expression asking what the fuck he thought he was doing. They never interrupted each other mid flow. He was mystified as Connor simply walked up to the table with a mug. It was his mug. What the phck? It was steaming, so he assumed it was a drink. Connor kept his usual soft expression as he placed the cup on the table beside his papers, meeting his gaze with his own meaningful look, blinking. Play along?

"I'm aware, Sergeant Reed. I brought you your afternoon coffee." Connor stood rigid, placing his hands behind his back and patiently awaiting further instructions. Like a good, obedient android. Reed picked up the mug and chanced a sip. It was his usual decaf, though he wasn't sure whether Connor had made it or if Nines had simply roped him into bringing it to him. Connor's appearance had certainly sparked a reaction from VB. He was almost glaring at the Cyberlife jacket, which Connor still wore during working hours. "Is it to your liking, Sir?" Connor prompted with a robotic tilt of his head. Reed could have spluttered his drink at the look that crossed VB's face. Uh-huh...

"It'll do, Tin Can." He was almost dismissive as he put the cup back on the table. VB didn't like that. Reed almost smirked, wondering what other buttons he could press. "Did you pick up my dry cleaning yet?" he added conversationally as he leaned back and engaged Connor, who picked up the thread without missing a beat. Reed could feel the glare VB was sending his way as he treated Connor like his personal maid.

"Not yet, Sir. The store said it should be ready by five o'clock, so I'll pick it up while I do your grocery shopping...Is there anything else I can do for you, Sir?" Connor asked in his usual amicable tone, patiently waiting for whatever Reed would throw at him next. Reed hummed as he looked at his watch. It was around three thirty, so it wasn't completely unbelievable that he wouldn't have eaten yet.

"Yeah, make yourself useful and run to the sandwich shop for me. BLT, extra mayo, and make sure it's toasted." Connor immediately bowed his head and responded obediently to the order. "Good...Well? Get a move on." Reed nodded to the door, watching as Connor turned to leave. He was definitely going to owe Connor an apology later. As he turned away, he swatted his ass with a chuckle, noting the jolt that sent through Connor's shoulders. He didn't look back, but Reed was pretty sure he'd be wearing an indignant scowl. It had been worth that extra touch though. VB was brimming with fury. I've definitely just put myself on his shit list.

"I see your own file doesn't do you justice..." Reed had no doubt that if VB's hands weren't currently cuffed to the table, they'd be locked around his throat. The mention of his own file didn't surprise him either. He may not have been an active participant since the revolution, but his treatment of androids a few months back and his association with the AAL probably hadn't gone unnoticed. I wonder what it says...

"Hey, I never claimed to be a phcking saint," Reed scoffed as he crossed his arms, letting the encounter linger for a while. He pressed a little more about their three victims, especially the body in the suitcase. The problem was that VB was only guilty of being in the house when he and Nines arrived to search the place. They'd managed to get a warrant after an anonymous tipoff landed their deceased friend as a likely candidate. All hell had broken loose once they'd shown the warrant. Reed had chased one guy while Nines had subdued the other two. Nines didn't hit the guy's head though...I wonder if we could come to an arrangement with Markus for access to his memory core...It was the only way they were going to get hard evidence. The problem was that androids had more rights now, with laws going through to protect them from privacy violations like that. The DPD wasn't like the FBI where they could force through those legal barriers.

By the time he got out, he was spent. He sighed in frustration as he entered the observation room where Nines, Connor, and Hank had been watching. He rested a hand on Connor's shoulder, a small sort of apology for earlier. Connor gave him one of his soft smiles of understanding. He got the message. They stayed in the small room and talked over things as Miller escorted VB back to his cell. Three separate cases, all different kill methods, but all AAL members. They could only definitively link one directly to the AHL, and even then, it was a singular member that was now deceased. I'm pretty sure those two are going to walk...

"It's not looking good...Did either of you pick up anything from all that?" Hank asked in a doubtful tone. He'd watched the whole thing. He didn't think he could have done a much better job himself. Reed had tried his best to provoke a reaction or a slipup from either of them. He was pretty sure he'd come close with VB, too. That hot-headed android had a clear dislike of humans, and Nines' idea to send Connor in there like he was the precinct's bitch-boy had been well worth it. The problem was that they didn't have anything concrete on these two. Nines had taken them both into custody to prevent them from running off, but they hadn't actually committed a crime. And they know it...

"I'm afraid not. They were controlling their stress levels the whole time, besides the incident with Connor. I believe we have no choice but to release them." Nines was right. They couldn't hold them for longer than forty-eight hours without cause, and they were unlikely to get anything else. Fifty-Seven was too cool and unreadable, and VB was a smug fucker that knew his rights. Connor sighed, hazel eyes darting back and forth as he tried to think of anything they could use. There was no physical evidence to speak of, and the main perpetrator was deceased and being held in the morgue until his body was released.

"Is there any legal way for us to access the dead android's memories? No offense, but this phcking sucks!" In this instance, Nines had to agree. He knew that prior to the revolution, one had only needed the owner's permission in order to review the files stored within an android's memory core. Now that request would have to go through the next of kin, and Nines was quite certain that the next of kin for this android would be another member of the AHL. There was no way they would allow them to review the memory files. "We could have the evidence sitting right there and we're not allowed to use it!" Reed huffed as he rested his hands on his hips and scuffed the floor with booted feet.

"I understand your frustration." Despite his agreement, Nines would never suggest that laws like this weren't necessary. Though it was true that they would largely only benefit guilty assailants, they were necessary for there to be even footing between androids and humans. A human's memory couldn't be probed, alive or dead, so it stood to reason that androids should receive the same consideration. It was one of the few current positives for androids within society. There was still widespread discrimination. Wages were low, housing was a privilege for many, and employment rights were limited.

"Well...let them go. We can't hold them anyway. After that, let's get onto whatever CCTV footage we can find of our three victims before they disappeared...Maybe a familiar face will turn up, or something else that will make a connection," Hank decided with a reluctant sigh. Reed looked across at Nines. Since they were the arresting officers, it stood to reason that they'd be the ones filling out the release forms. Nines' lips quirked a little as he nodded to the door. The sooner they got this over with, the better.