Chapter Text
Interview One: Frame
The interrogation room felt cold.
It is always cold. It isn't supposed to provide comfort or reassurance. It wasn't designed to provide positive stimulus. It doesn't provide a reason to prolong the inevitable.
There were three occupants in the room.
A young man with golden blonde, shaved hair was seated at the metal table with crossed legs and arms. The defensive stance. His muscles bulged in his torn red singlet, there are tattoos from the shoulders down to the wrists on both sleeves. A scowl is fixed firm on his face.
“I don't know nothing, man! You ain't got anything on me, these accusations are bogus!”, he gruffed out angrily at the man standing opposite him.
The man across from him smirked and knitting his eyebrows together. He stood well over six feet tall. Raven black hair fell around his face and he stared at the suspect with cold, menacing green eyes. He is wearing his navy overcoat and tie with a white collared shirt and polished black shoes. He looks the part - and he eats crooks like these for breakfast. Like always, he is confident and has control. And he is going to get this man's confession.
He slammed a large hand down on the steel table. The other man jumped.
A woman stood against the wall observing in the maroon shirt and dark blazer with her detective badge pinned to her pocket. She was watching her colleague ramp the interrogation up and raised her brow while revealing a smirk. She knows it's show time.
“Oh, really?!”, The tall man standing said. He whipped open his leather case folder that was on the table in front of him and tossed several documents across to the face the blonde man dramatically.
“We've got the knife that matches the fatal wounds on the victim, recovered from the dumpster outside your apartment block”, Detective Tucker smirked, jabbing a long, pale finger at the photo, “We've got your prints on it too! You're gonna want to start talking, Trent!”.
Trent laughed coldly, and leaned forward to brave a look at Detective Tucker.
“So what? All that proves is someone took my knife, wasted him and then dumped it outside my place to implicate me”, he replied with a smile playing on his mouth.
Detective Tucker straightened- he knows Trevor was right. But his interrogation is far from over.
“Is that all you got, jerkwad?”, Trevor added at Tucker's silence, laughing and shaking his head, “This is a waste of time, I ain't sayin’ nothing more until my lawyer shows up”.
“We've got your financials, proving that you made those deposits into Eric's bank account”, Tucker continued, jabbing a finger at the next document.
“That's not consequential”, Trent argued back, “You've got no proof, detective! Give it up!”.
“Well, we have a good reason to think Eric put you up to this”, the woman stepped forward, lowering her gaze at Trent. Her dark hair fell to one side and her gaze looked determined.
“We know you aren't the brains behind this operation, Trent. We know it was Eric, and you're going to start talking or you're going down for this all by yourself”, Detective Tucker threatened, leaning in closer to Trent.
Trent smirked, “I doubt that!”.
Detective Tucker changed tactics. He crossed to the other side of the table and dramatically dragged out the steel chair beside Trent. He now turned it to face Trent before throwing himself down into it. Intimidation - he is good at it.
“We're the Police”, he said, “You've got this last chance to tell us what really happened! Otherwise - I can tell you how this is going to play out... We like evidence - and we can twist it to fit our story. You'll take the fall for this alone, and then Eric will disappear down the rabbit hole. You think he's got your back?!”.
Detective Tucker now grabbed his folder again. He jabbed his finger at a photograph, “This guy? on Death Row, we suspected Eric was involved in this murder too”. He grabbed another photo, “This one? turned up dead before he could stand trial. We think someone silenced him”.
The woman stepped around the table and gazed at Trent. Trent's facial expression had shifted from looking supremely unconcerned to slightly worried.
“Tucker is right, we can fit the evidence to the crime”, she smiled, “Unless we hear a story we like better”.
‘Come on Trent, you want to help us - Testaburger here is right”, Tucker added. His hand slammed on the table again, “Or before you can say ‘man’ again; we will have witnesses lined up around the block ready to pick you out of a line up. Your choice. Don't take the fall for this yourself, Trent. Don't let Eric get away again. Don't let him find the next tough guy to do his bidding”.
Trent stood up angrily and started pacing. He let out a groan of frustration.
“Oh, MAN!”, he roared.
Tucker was on his feet again, quickly taking a couple of steps back to observe Trevor.
“Give us your statement!”, he demanded, “And you'll take a lighter sentence. You help us get Eric - and we will help you!”.
Trevor shook his head, tongue moistening his lips. He looked agitated and nervous - Detective Tucker could tell that his resolve is broken - the cracks have formed.
“That's no use to me unless I get protection!”, he now cried out.
“You'll get protection”, Tucker said convincingly, “We can get you protection so good that I won't even be able to find you”.
Trevor threw himself down in the chair. He considered Tucker.
“Alright!”, heshot out, “Yeah, Eric was at my place man! He just wanted me to threaten the guy, to scare him! He owed us 200 Gs! All I did was the beat down! He was still alive when I left! Eric stayed behind with one of his other dudes, I left my knife behind! I didn't know they were gonna waste him! Then he dropped on me the next day covered in blood - I shoved the bloody shirt and jacket into the fire, and he took off!”.
“Where is Eric now?”, Tucker demanded.
He got his folder again and threw a piece of paper and pen across the table.
“He never stayed in one place long”, he admitted.
“His number?”.
“Changes them frequently. We wait to hear from him”, Trevor replied shortly.
“Write down what you know”, Tucker tapped the paper.
Trent grunted. He threw himself angrily back into the seat and started writing, huffing as he went.
Tucker looked at his colleague, who was smiling with satisfaction.
They soon exited the interrogation room, just as two more officers arrivedto escort Trevor back to his holding cell.
Their boss, Tolkien Black, met them in the corridor with a smile.
“Good work, you two”, he nodded, gesturing them into his office, “Eric's a big fish, and we are one step closer to bringing him in and locking him away. With this guy, I think we have enough to implicate him now. I'll contact the District Attorney and see what we can do for our friend here”.
“Thanks, Captain”, Tucker responded, “Brovlovski will give him a deal, no question”.
“Alright, well we will be able to close the lid on this case soon”, Tolkien nodded, as he took a seat behind his desk, “Meanwhile, I have more work for you two. Two cases - pick one. First one -The Mayor needs a couple of pairs of hands to assist with a case to do with narcotics; it would be a good way to get noticed”. He was looking specifically at Detective Testaburger.
“Not interested. What else you got?”, Wendy asked.
“The local beat wants a second opinion on a suspected drug overdose downtown”, Tolkien responded, picking up a stack of papers on his desk and handing them to Tucker.
Tucker shot his boss a confused look, “Why's that coming to us? We're homicide!".
“They had a DOA just come in that is similar to two other cases in the last fortnight. All within the same three mile radius. They found something that is making them believe there might be foul play”.
“What did they find?”, Testaburger asked, looking concerned.
“Haven't been briefed”, Tolkien replied promptly, adjusting his crisp, red tie, “But the crime unit is down there and the scene is still preserved. Think we can help them out?”.
Testaburger looked at Tucker, “We'll take the case. If there's anything off about it, we will find it”.
“Alright then”, Tolkien said curtly, “I'll let them know you're en route”.
“Thanks Captain”, she replied.
They left the office and went over to their desks to gear up.
“Wendy, that other job was a good opportunity for you to climb the ranks…why did you turn it down?”, Tucker asked, zipping up his folder.
“I didn't take this job to get noticed”, she replied, shrugging, “Now, am I driving, or you?”.
“You”, Tucker said, grabbing the keys and tossing them to her, “I want to think over the last case”.
Wendy didn't question him further. She is used to this.
“Right, where are we heading?”.
Tucker stared at the piece of paper.
“Tweak Bros Coffee House”, he read off the paper, “Never heard of it".
“It's a few blocks away”, Wendy said knowingly, “Let's go”.