Quotes About Interrogation

I know what you're doing," the wolf said. "This is advanced interrogation techniques, right? First you destroy my self-esteem and sense of individuality, then you force me to tell you where the pack hides out, so your woodcutter pals can come and slaughter us. Well, you're wasting your breath. I won't talk. I won't talk. Got that?

Some people, when they're called before the police, like nothing better than to spill everything, fact and fiction alike, hoping to create a good impression.

Centuries of experience show that people will tell their tormenters what they want to hear, whether it's confessing to witchcraft in Salem, admitting to counterrevolutionary tendencies in Soviet Russia or concocting stories about Iraq and Al Qaeda."20 Indeed, the Senate Intelligence report confirmed that no information gained from torturing detainees had proved useful in capturing or killing any terrorist, including Osama bin Laden.

Once torture is justified in rare cases, it is easier to justify it in others: Let's torture not only this bastard we are sure knows where the bomb is, but this other bastard who might know where the bomb is, and also this bastard who might have some general information that could be useful in five years, and also this other guy who might be a bastard only we aren't sure.

I deny nothing, but doubt everything.

What was he doing that they had to kill him?" "Asking questions,

You and Roarke have a different couple dynamic." "What the hell does that mean?" "Well." Peabody slid her eyes over to Eve's profile. "That was a nice way of saying neither one of you would let the other get away with holding back. Something's going on with one of you, the other sniffs it out and hammers away until it's all out there. You're both nosy, and just mean enough not to let the other one slide by.

Hastings hunched at the rickety table in Interview Room C, doing a pretty good job of looking bored. The dribbles of sweat along his temples were the only sign he was feeling the heat. Eve dropped into the chair across from him, flashed a big, friendly smile. Hey. Thanks for dropping by. Kiss my white, dimpled ass. As tempting as that is, I'm afraid I'm not allowed to make such personal contact. You kicked my balls, you oughta be able to kiss my ass. Rules are rules.

If we do, I want to be the bad cop." "You're a lousy bad cop, Feeney. Face it." He gave her a mournful look. "I outrank you, Dallas." "I'm primary, and I'm better at bad cop. Live with it." "I always have to be the good cop," he muttered as they stepped into a well-lighted hallway with more marble, more gilt.

Lawyers and shrinks and suspects." "Oh my.

How many of them were there?' Her voice wasn't joking around. Eighteen. Hundred.' Four,' Blaylock interjected. 'An honor guard of four.' What did they work you over with? Those bruises on your thighs are severe?' Crowbars. Big, massive-' Blay cut in. 'Clubs. Had to be those ceremonial black clubs.

The CIA has acknowledged that it has detained about 100 terrorists since 9/11, and about a third of them have been subjected to what the CIA refers to as 'enhanced interrogation tactics,' and only a small proportion of those have in fact been subjected to the most serious types of enhanced procedures.

A police interview is non-accusatory. It is an act of gathering information. An interrogation is accusatory. It is an act of persuasion. "An interrogation is conducted only when the investigator is reasonably certain of the suspect's guilt," according to Essentials of the Reid Technique: Criminal Interrogation and Confessions.

Each question is three thousand questions, and a good question provides more questions.

I wish I could show you how an interrogation can have its own beauty, shining and cruel as that of a bullfight; how in defiance of the crudest topic or the most moronic suspect it keeps inviolate its own taut, honed grace, its own irresistible and blood-stirring rhythms; how the great pairs of detectives know each other's every thought as surely as lifelong ballet partners

The kid hasn't mastered the art of small talk. Every question comes out sounding like part of an interrogation.

What are you on, Samuel?" This was easier, he glanced down. "Laminate.

You know what happens to people who ask questions. And you know what happens to people who answer them.

Women have that way of asking you more than what they want to know.

Mr. Forbes opened his eyes. "If you'll let me, sir," he said sharply. "Were you ever a member of the Communist Party? Are you a member now?" My father leaned back in his chair. "No, son, I'm a Republican," he replied.

They went back there, looked at all the computers, asked me to come in and tell them what all the computers were for specifically so they knew how to dismantle the network I had been running.

Show me the man and I'll find you the crime.

When you say 'plugged it in,' could you please tell me everything you plugged into it?" Peter had now dropped, improbably, into a polite, clinical mode, like a customer service rep in a Bangalore cubicle farm.

Get where?" Yul demanded.