It was difficult for Liadan to keep her composure as she sat in the interrogation room alone. Her hands were folded carefully in her lap, wrists magically bound. She had agreed to go quietly, asking only that the aurors forego any physical manacles- the idea of being cuffed in public was horrifying to Liadan, which had given the aurors the advantage when it came to arresting her- especially when they had not clued her in as to why they were bringing her in for questioning.

Trevelyan had dumped her in the interrogation room an hour ago. Initially her posture was stiff, perfect- she sat back straight, attempting to maintain her full height (which wasn't very much to begin with). But the longer they left her sitting, the harder it was to continue appearing aloof, indifferent. There were so many different reasons she could be in this chair- and her mind had started lining all of them up.

She had purchased dragons from Azorma Hyskos not too long ago- and it was entirely possible the woman had ratted her out whenever she was arrested. Liadan had also been illegally practicing voodoo rituals- which had resulted in the curse of her farm and the subsequent potions recall and even the failure of wolfsbane potions which had led to a string of attacks in March from wolves who should have been tame and safe. Liadan had multiple illegal items hidden away in her home- from dark talismans to books containing details on restricted magics. She was a friend of Cinaed Tawse (or used to be, at least) and he was a known terrorist- and the cousin of Dugan MacDuff. (Liadan was even related to MacDuff somewhere on her family tree.) And, of course, there was the little boy she had kidnapped for Cinaed so many months ago.

But Liadan did not know why or for which reason she had been brought to the ministry- unless the reason was simple, the fact that Trevelyan hated her, that she had ratted him out to his superior.

Even so- the longer she had been sitting there, the more she had slumped into the chair. After an hour passed- and then another- she was nervous. Liadan was exhausted, her brain was racing so fast she couldn't keep up with her thoughts- and, to be blunt, Liadan was afraid. She was young, and the idea of losing her life to some silly charge was terrifying. Liadan was being courted by two very handsome, very powerful men- and a smudge on her reputation would ruin that- and she would be a spinster forever.

The more she realized how ruined her life would be, the more upset Liadan became, and by the time the door to the interrogation room finally opened again, Liadan was pulled forward in her chair, arms resting on the table, chin tucked securely in her hands as she pouted. Her legs swung back and forth from impatience and nervousness- feet barely skimming the floor. If Liadan ever appeared to be an underage witch playing dress up- it was this very moment, with her bottom lip jutted out in a pout and her wavy tendrils falling from their meticulous up do to frame her face.

But with the presence of a person, Liadan quickly scooted back in her seat, reassembling her posture, and tucking hair behind her ear. Her lip was sucked in, and her mouth formed a flat, bored, line of displeasure. "Auror Trevelyan," she greeted- voice cracking slightly in the middle of his name.

There was nothing to mark the passage of time.  They'd left her sitting in the interrogation room for first one hour, and then two; minutes stretched into long swathes of idleness, with no way for O Morain to be sure how long she had really been here.  She was alone with her dread and her conscience, and hopefully one of the two would be enough to spur this game of chess forward.

Jonas raised his eyebrows at her as he stepped into the room, but he voiced no acknowledgement.  His expression was even and unreadable as he strode across the room, limp obvious in his uneven gait, a manila folder tucked under his arm as he selected one of the two empty chairs. 

Everything about this was a gamble.  They couldn't be sure that O Morain would talk; couldn't be certain that she'd feel the need to give up anything.  If she were sharp enough on her game, even the testimonies of Aberdeen Spencer and Luke Adani would be called into question.  They had to be careful.  This was poker playing at its finest.  No threat that he or Adon could dream up could possibly compare to the ones that the young woman would invent on her own, and that was what he was banking on.

And so he drew back the chair, lowered himself carefully to sit, and opened the file folder he'd carried under one arm, not sparing O Morain even a glance as he pulled out a pen and began to efficiently jot down notes.

Liadan watched as he came across the room, sitting down with a folder, pulling out parchment and a... pen, she thought it was called, and began to write. He didn't address her, or even so much as glance at her as he set about his business. The witch- who was already on edge, terrified and infuriated all at once- was immediately outraged at his dismissive demeanor. How dare he!

Her lips pursed for a few moments- wanting to give him time to decide to speak first- but it never happened. "I do not know what game you think you are playing, Auror Trevelyan, but I have been far more accommodating than you deserve considering the circumstances and the fact that Mr. Rosier personally assured me that you would no longer be harassing me without reason."

"If you do not treat me with a shred of dignity or respect- and have decided to waste my entire day without valid reason, I can assure you Mr. Trevelyan that I was have more than just your job." It was not an entirely empty threat, either. Liadan had surprising magical prowess, and if Jonas was toying with her for the hell of it- as a way of getting back at her- he would pay, and he didn't even know what was in store for him if he pressed the wrong buttons.

The red-haired man counted silently to ten before he stopped writing.  Lowering the pen, Jonas glanced up quizzically at her, his expression impassive as he studied the woman silently for another beat.

"Do I look like I'm playing a game, Miss O Morain?" he asked easily, flipping back through the folder to the first page.  "Believe it or not, this is me job."

He found his place easily enough, even if he didn't really need the written record to recall the facts.  But this entire exchange was about appearances more than it was reality.  Give O Morain time to get nervous and let out just enough rope for her to hang herself and they'd get what they wanted.  They needed her more on edge, more testy, before they sent in their secret weapon.

Jonas scanned over the page, his face impassive, and then glanced up briefly at her before focusing on the words.  "Miss Liadan O Morain," he read off matter-of-factly.  "Twenty-three years of age.  Daughter of Mr and Mrs Cáel and Adélaďde O Morain.  Older brother Declan was disinherited, both parents deceased -- father died in Azkaban, hope that bit doesn't become a family tradition," he remarked ironically, flashing her a slight, crooked smile.  "And currently the sole proprietor of O Morain Farms."

His manner suddenly businesslike once more, he closed the folder, cool gaze locked on the young woman. 

"Got all that right, did I?" he inquired evenly.  "Anything you want to dispute yet, Miss O Morain?"

"I believe you always look like you're playing a game, Mister Trevelyan, and I think that you are sadly mistaken if you think that your job description entails the harassment and wrongful apprehension of innocent women simply because you enjoy getting a rise out of them." At this point, Liadan decided it was safer to assume that this was all some sort of game- that Jonas was just being an ass for the sake of being an ass, and that he didn't have anything solid to hold her on. (In fact, she hoped that it was true- because she would pull every string necessary to get him removed from his job as an auror if that was the case, and he would never have the authority to bother her ever again.)

Then he began reading over the information on the page. Her age, her parents names, mentioning her brother- saying that her father died in Azkaban, looking at her as though it was funny. "Don't you dare bring my father into this," she spat. "He was a good man and a good father, and if my good for nothing brother had kept his trap shut he would still be alive and my entire family would not have been ruined. If you find the idea of a child growing up without a father amusing, then perhaps I should grant your children the same favor."

Liadan chose not to respond to his question about whether or not she had anything to dispute. He knew damn well that his information was correct, and there was no need to confirm it for him. Her family probably had more than one of those folders in the auror offices. Her father had been a man with his fingers in one too many pies, but that did not make him a bad man.

"I hardly believe you've dragged me all this way just to ask me the name of my father and mother and ensure that I own and operate the family business. I know some very important, very powerful people, Mister Trevelyan- and it would behoove you not to forget that."

Jonas arched his eyebrows as he regarded the young woman, and then shifted his gaze to the right-hand wall of the room.  The one-way glass there had been enchanted to look like any of the other three walls, but there were times when it was useful for the person being questioned to know that they were being watched.  He jerked his head toward the door of the interrogation room, waiting a beat before returning his attention to O Morain.

"Frankly, Miss O Morain, I don't care who you know."  He kept his words even and frank, no hint of amusement in his expression as he watched the woman.  "You're not innocent, and all we have to do is let word slip to the Prophet and both Prideaux and Whitman'll be running as quick as you'd like in the other direction."

This was the part that frustrated him more than anything.  Watching her squirm, grasping for straws as if her connections and family history were enough to get her out of the bed she'd made for herself.  Adon would be better at this -- not because Adon could speak the language, because for all his breeding, the brusque, temperamental Israeli former soldier was not any more of a real pureblood than Jonas was -- but because the game playing didn't get under his skin on so primal a level. 

Right now, the game playing didn't matter.  O Morain could threaten and plead all she wanted; he didn't need to let it bother him.  Cards on the table.  Let her squirm as he spelled out exactly how serious this was.

"So let's be clear about this, then," he said levelly, fighting to keep the emotion from his voice.  "You're under arrest for illegal dragon breeding.  We've got enough on you that even with your money and your friends, the charges will stick.  Since the investigation involves O Morain Farms, the Ministry will confiscate your assets and shut down your company.  We'll be looking into all of your holdings, searching your home, tracing any transactions from your Gringotts account -- and everything we find will mean more time in Azkaban for you."

The door clicked open behind him.  Jonas didn't look back, even as footsteps started across the floor; his attention was solely, intently focused on the woman sitting across the table.  "This isn't a game."  Each word came out forceful and vehement.  "We've been investigating you for months now, and you're not nearly as good at covering your tracks as you think.  And on top of whatever bloody stupid games you've been playing with dragons and the Dark Arts and Cinaed Tawse," he went on, his voice lowering dangerously, "you went after one of ours, Miss O Morain.  An Auror.  Did you really think Level Two was going to let you get away with that?"

His teeth were already gritted; his mouth was dry.  Jonas swallowed hard as he finally glanced up.  "So yeah," he said, settling back in his own chair, heavily conscious of the other figure now beside him.  "Let's talk about what it's like for a kid to grow up without his parents."

Thank Murphy for Madam Foley's occlumency lessons. Standing on the other side of the enchanted glass, Aberdeen had been as still as stone, with a face to match. Every mental defence she was capable of was employed; if she was going to play her emotions into this situation, dammit, she was going to do so completely under her own control. Not that it wasn't still difficult. This was the first time she'd seen Liadan O Morain since that night five months ago that she could barely even remember. Yet, as she watched O Morain, watched Trevelyan calmly talking to her (doing all he could to put her more on edge, no doubt), a horrible sense of familiarity washed over her. The fragmented memories that had been gradually seeping back rose to the forefront of her mind, telling her danger danger danger.

When Trevelyan glanced in her direction and indicated that she should come in, she breathed in sharply. A split-second's worth of fear flitted over her. What if they couldn't make O Morain cooperate? They only had one shot at this, and if they failed...

So don't fail. Aberdeen breathed out slowly, and made her way out of the observation room, to the door of the interrogation chamber. She could hear the muffled list of accusations from Trevelyan before she steeled herself, and opened the door.

This isn't a game, Trevelyan was saying as the former auror walked calmly towards the pair of them. Aberdeen had to admire the passion with which he spoke. When Trevelyan was seriously about something, you damn well knew he was deadly serious. Aberdeen avoided looking at him, though, in favour of studying O Morain instead. Now that they were getting to the heart of the matter, how were the younger witch's defences holding up?

Trevelyan finished his piece as Aberdeen came to a halt beside him, and she pulled out the chair next to his, sinking fluidly into it, never taking her eyes off O Morain. With her emotionless countenance, Aberdeen was in stark contrast to Trevelyan. Because she needed anything that would give her the edge over O Morain. Anything that would unnerve the suspect. Under no circumstances could O Morain be allowed to feel in control of the situation. Aberdeen clasped her hands neatly on the table before her, and with an eerie politeness, said only, 'Hello again, Miss O Morain.'

Liadan was inclined to keep her mouth shut when Jonas claimed that he would let her arrest leak to the prophet. That certainly would have Vedir and Oscar lose interest in her rather quickly, which was not what she wanted. Liadan was rather enjoying being courted by two very important men, and didn't want that ruined because she had chosen to cross Trevelyan. Instead, she gave him a perturbed look in response to his threat, listening as he began to explain to her why she was arrested.

Illegal dragon breeding? Liadan couldn't stop herself from giving a small sigh of relief. If that was all they were after, time in Azkaban was likely not going to be the way it ended. You didn't go to Azkaban for breeding dragons, she could weasel her way out of that easily enough, convince someone in the company to take the fall, and all would be well.

Liadan did not turn when the door opened, focusing on Jonas' words instead. "If memory serves correctly, Mr. Trevelyan, MacDuff has been going after you for months and you've yet to so much as find him, so I have a feeling that Level Two allows people to get away with more than most would expect, don't you agree?" she asked, tilting her head in inquiry, eyes finally settling on the figure which had entered the room.

She recognized her immediately, and her heart lept into her throat. This was Fionn's so called the mother- the woman from whom Liadan had taken the child. Liadan swallowed hard when she was greeted, and offered a very strained smile. "Again?" Liadan responded. "I don't believe I've yet to make your acquaintance," she said. "Auror Trevelyan has been far too busy harassing me to introduce me to any of his colleagues, I'm afraid. With the exception of Auror Eleor, of course." When the two of them had so rudely interrupted her dinner with Vedir and his mother.

"Tell me, Auror Trevelyan," Liadan began, tearing her eyes away from the woman. "If this indeed a problem over supposed breeding of dragons, why are there no representatives from the creatures department? I met quite a few when they were attempting to help me figure out what had gone wrong with the farm a few months back. Isn't this more their department? Surely you should be devoting yourself to more important matters- like the one we were discussing earlier? The crazed man who is making it his sole mission to ruin the wizarding world?"

If Aberdeen had been disposed to letting any expression cross her face at the moment, she would have indulged in a grim smirk. Of course, O Morain was feigning ignorance. Aberdeen could play to that for now. Lack of concrete proof aside, there was plenty with which to wrong-foot the young witch. She had to stumble sooner or later. Aberdeen hadn't missed O Morain's reaction when she looked away from Trevelyan, and recognised his interrogation partner.

'How very peculiar that you don't remember me, Miss O Morain,' Aberdeen said mildly, completely ignoring the fact that the witch was directing her inquiries towards Trevelyan. 'I'm not sure why, but for some reason I had the idea that of the two of us, you might have the better memory.' Her tone bordered on pleasant, and she even smiled, but a polite, fixed, smile, and obviously not genuine.

'Now, rest assured, I'm sure we can bring the RCMC into this as well, if you'd like more people to be involved in this matter. But for now, Miss O Morain, you are dealing with the Magical Law Enforcement Department. And while you are dealing with us, perhaps we can... assist each other. Because you seem like an intelligent witch, with a bright future ahead of you. I really would hate for any foolish mistakes to ruin that future for you.' If O Morain could lie through her teeth, so could Aberdeen.

'So. If you could bear to humour us a little.' Carefully, she reached inside her cloak, and withdrew something from the inside pocket, something she took pains to conceal from O Morain for the moment, although Trevelyan, if he chose to look, was close enough to recognise that small piece of evidence Aberdeen had retained after all the necessary magical tests had been run.

'It's funny you should mention MacDuff, actually,' Aberdeen said, her tone almost conversational by this point, although offset by the way her gaze was fixed stonily on O Morain. 'He provided us with something you may find interesting.' With that, she placed the photograph from her pocket down on the table in front of O Morain, removing her hand to reveal the moving image of Robin smiling and waving uncertainly, and Tawse sitting next to him. 'I take it you know who this is?'

Liadan did not miss the careful words that Aberdeen chose when addressing her. Somehow- they knew. Liadan's memory charms must have failed, or someone must have ratted her out. Would Cinaed do such a thing? Would Christian give up her name to prevent his cover from being blown with the aurors? Was he the sort to do that? She had scorned him- without warning or reason, and if she had been in his shoes she certainly would have told all that she knew.

But she didn't jump at the bait- instead she reamined quiet, letting the lady auror finish what she had to say, watching as she slid a small photograph onto the table in front of her. She claimed that it was from MacDuff- and it would not surprise Liadan if Cinaed's little pet had done such a horrible thing. "Of course I know who that is," she said, waving a dismissive hand. "It's Cinaed and Fionn." Liadan purposefully used the name that Cinaed had given the boy instead of the one that he'd had when she'd taken him from his so-called parents.

"The boy looks just like his daddy, doesn't he?" Liadan asked- somehow keeping her tone more conversational than vicious. "I remember when Cinaed introduced me to little Fionn. Such an angel of a child. Though I have to admit that I do worry about the boy, living with Cinaed Merlin knows where, probably in some distant cave or squalor. So very, very sad, isn't it?" she pointed at Aberdeen. "To think of such a young boy having to live such a dreadful life because his father is on the run. Even so, he's where he belongs- with his father, who can raise the boy how he best sees fit. It's only right, after all. I trust that Cinaed will give Fionn a proper upbringing." And by proper, Liadan naturally meant something more purist than what Aberdeen would offer.

"Though I can hardly comprehend what Cinaed and Fionn have to do with my supposedly breeding dragons?" Liadan asked. "Unless you are under the impression that Cinaed is trafficking in dragon eggs these days?"

"No, we're under the impression that he's trying to overthrow the Ministry," Jonas retorted, voice tight, his eyes narrowed at the young woman.  "Which might be the bit you missed.  You're under arrest for dragon trafficking, Miss O Morain," he said harshly.  "You're being charged with treason."

Spencer was playing it cool and calm enough for the both of them, and with her controlled persona beside him, Jonas found himself slipping into Adon or Archer's usual role.  He could feel his emotions rising, and for once, he didn't care; O Morain was acting as if they were chatting fondly about the weather or the amusing exploits of a shared acquaintance, and it make him want to reach across the table and throttle her.

 "But I reckon Tawse didn't mention that risk, did he?" he asked sharply, tucking his legs under his chair as he leaned forward over the table.  "It seems like he didn't mention a lot -- reckon he certainly didn't tell you that his Muggle expert's not nearly as good as you'd think.  You missed all the electronics when you were cleaning house," he informed her bluntly.  The words were tumbling out before he thought about them, but they weren't going to get anywhere by playing it safe.  This entire interrogation was a gamble; the whole exercise a risk.  "The computer.  The digital camera.  And never even thought about a Muggle security system, did you?" he asked sardonically.  This was playing a bit too fast and loose with the truth, but it wasn't as if he were saying it had been there.  If Rosier had a problem with such tactics, he could damned well take them up with him afterwards.  "Works a bit different from magical wards.  It's not meant to keep anyone out; it just takes pictures once someone breaks in."

He let those words hang ominously in the air between them.  That was why this entire investigation and the whole mess with the WBA beyond it was so goddamned frustrating: it was like chasing a shadow, with only whispers and whirls of smoke to hold onto even when they knew the shape of their target up ahead.  Everything was circumstantial; but for this to work, it couldn't be circumstantial.  To convince her of their sincerity, they had to be sure.

"Your memory charms failed, Miss O Morain," Jonas said icily, his eyes locked on those of the younger woman.  "We've got two victims that remember you hexing them in their bedroom, we can verify that you were at the scene of the crime, and we've got a running log of all your visits to the Chimera leading up to the kidnapping." 

Arching his brows in a silent challenge, he held O Morain's gaze, his expression hard. "Now, did you want to tell us how Tawse convinced you to do his dirty work?" he asked pointedly.  "Or shall we assume you're so loyal to his cause that you're willing to take the fall for him?  Because believe me, I won't shed a bloody tear if I get to end the week by personally informing Elder Whitman that we're charging his latest exploit with treason against the Ministry.  Make me day right and proper, that would."

Liadan shrank back into her seat as Jonas leaned forward- stating that Cinaed had not mentioned the fact she could get charged for treason. He had not mentioned, but she had known that it was a possibility... Though she had been very certain that she would never end up exactly where she was.

She knew nothing about muggle electronics. Liadan wasn't even sure what an electronic was- but he said she missed them. The only word she recognized was camera- pictures. Pictures of her breaking in? That was something nobody could argue with- even herself. A frail, shaking hand tucked hair behind her ear. The revelation of pictures was followed by a simple statement- her memory charms had failed. Two victims that remembered her. A log of her visits to the Chimera- probably including all of the things she had delivered for Robin's arrival, to ensure he'd have a nice home to come to.

The blood had drained from her face as she bought into every word that Jonas uttered. They had proof, and it could mean the end of her. And then he threatened to run to Oscar! Liadan couldn't have him or Vedir knowing what was going on. It would ruin her chances! If this got out it would ruin her entire reputation! All that she had worked for- gone, all because she let Cinaed manipulate, all because she bought into his little movement- all for the sake of chasing after some filthy halfblood who managed to catch her attention.

"I- I don't know," she said quietly. All Liadan wanted at the moment was to be anywhere else. She was upset, her stomach was in knots, she felt cornered- and with Jonas' brisk delivery of facts, insinuating she would have to take the fall for Cinaed- she just wanted to undo it all. "He told me that they had taken his son without anyone asking him about it! And the thought of a pureblood being raised by muggles just... It's not right! He's Cinaed's son. And Fionn deserved the chance to be raised properly in a pureblood home! I just... I thought it was the right thing to do!" And it was true, in Liadan's mind it had been the right thing to do. "I only wanted what I thought was best for Fionn! And when Cinaed and I talked about it, I thought it was a chance for me to do some good!" She knew that what she was saying sounded awful to the aurors- insane, even.

"I never should have let him get me mixed up in everything! That's what you get," she said quietly- more to herself. "That's what you get for forgetting how you were raised, buying into his ideas that it's about wizardborn not pureblood. Not any more!" Liadan chided herself. "No more halfbloods getting you into trouble like this."

"I just thought it was the right thing to do," she echoed again, quietly, hollow. "But Cinaed couldn't do it himself! It's not a one person job, you know," she said to Jonas. "And it's just so hard for him to go unnoticed. He couldn't do it himself- and someone had to help him. Fionn was already the perfect heir- and goodness knows Cinaed isn't going to have a lot of chances to have more children with all he's had going on. The Tawse's needed the boy."

Aberdeen was keeping her composure, but barely. Her face wasn't just neutral anymore; it had become a mask. She was utterly still, certain that even the slightest slip might lead her to break down into tears, or reach across the table and throttle her son's kidnapper. O Morain had actually had the gall to goad her. Fionn? Was that what Tawse was calling Robin now? The name poor sweet Margo had given him before her death hadn't been good enough for him? Somewhere in the back of her mind she was shouting, He looks nothing like Tawse! He looks like his mother! Margo's hair, Margo's eyes, Margo's smile--

Thank Murphy for Trevelyan. One of the problems with Aberdeen's chronic inability to draw a line between work and her personal life was that sometimes she got reckless, pulled herself in too deep without realising just how hard it would be. Had she replied to O Morain right then, she might have tripped herself up, made a mistake. Trevelyan, however, pushed ahead, and it helped Aberdeen recover a little to see the realisation dawn on O Morain's face. The young witch was finally becoming aware of the repercussions of her actions, and she was, joy of joys, no longer denying her involvement in the whole affair. Aberdeen's breath caught in her throat, and she had to resist the urge to look at Trevelyan. She'd congratulate him later. For now, they had their confession, and they had to make the most of O Morain's sudden vulnerability.

'His name is Robin, Miss O Morain,' Aberdeen said evenly. 'That was the name his birth mother gave him. And she was just as pureblooded as your dear Mr. Tawse who, I'm not sure if he ever told you, happens to be the prime suspect in her murder.' Aberdeen wasn't too worried about sharing this information; she was fairly certain the only thing that had kept Tawse from going through the official route to claiming his biological son was the unresolved case of Margo Valdaine's murder. He already knew damn well he was under suspicion. Right now, the more terrifying a picture she could paint of Tawse for O Morain, the better.

'Tawse has already made too much of a mess of his life to salvage. He has a one way ticket to Azkaban, and I'm sure he'd have no qualms about taking you down with him, but you still have a chance here, Miss O Morain. Word of your involvement in this doesn't have to get out. But what we can do for you, well, that really depends on what you can do for us.' Aberdeen's voice never wavered, but the look in her eyes became steelier. Trevelyan had gained them some momentum, and she would be damned if she was going to let up now. 'I need you to tell us all you know about who else was involved in Robin's abduction, and where he and Tawse are now.'

Liadan heard two parts of Aberdeen's response to her confession- that she could get out of trouble, and the question about where Fionn-Robin and Cinaed were now. Liadan swallowed again, eyes wide. "I don't know where Cinaed took him!" she nearly wailed. "Nobody knows! The last I heard the baby was with his family- with his mother. Then they fled- went into hiding! I've not heard from him or seen him in months, and that's the honest truth!" And, sadly, it was.

"All I know is he took the baby and disappeared! And there are so many people who could be helping him it would be impossible to make a guess. He's got lots of friends, a lot of people to turn to if he needs it. I don't know." If she did know- she would tell them at this point, just to get herself out of serious trouble. "I don't know," she said a final time- quieter- close to tears.

Jonas sat silently through Liadan's confession, eyebrows raised, refusing to even glance at the enchanted one-way wall that concealed the other members of MLE.  Finally, they were getting somewhere.  He sat stoically, his jaw set, as he listened to her words, taking mental notes even as he held the pen motionless against the blank sheet of parchment.  The mention of halfblooded was enough to catch his interest -- as far as Jonas knew, all of the Tawses and most of their suspected WBA members were pureblooded.

It would have been too much to hope that O Morain knew where the toddler was now.  That wasn't how Tawse operated -- the big yeti-resembling Scotsman compartmentalized better than anyone Jonas had ever seen, save for perhaps fictional villains like Professor Moriarty.  He wouldn't have risked his operation by letting her get too close; once he had used her to kidnap the boy, that was likely the end of the business relationship.

"Then you'd better hope you know something that can help us," he said crisply, raising his eyes to directly meet the woman's gaze.  "If the trail ends with you, Miss O Morain, then you're going to bear the brunt of it."

There was plenty that they could start by asking her -- before the woman's night was over, Radley would surely grill her for a list of Tawse's associates, numerous or not.  Getting any sort of break in the WBA case was nearly unheard of, and with O Morain, they'd have to work quickly -- once the others realized she'd been grabbed by MLE, they'd likely scramble to cover up any connections.  But that didn't mean they could do this sloppily.  If O Morain claimed not to have any information that could immediately help them to retrieve Robin Adani, then they were going to start methodically at the beginning.

"We'll start by you walking us through the night of the kidnapping." He kept his words even and firm, leaving no possibility of disobedience. "Where'd you meet up with Tawse before going to the Adanis' house?"