Interrogation Room

It had taken a little under two days to get the warrents, and James wasn't happy. The guy, Markle, was good for the murders. He felt it. And so far, all the evidence sugested it, even if it was inconclusive. A knife exactly like the one used on Wesley and Amanda. Fresh blood washed off his shoes. Sure, the shoes were a size too big. But that could be explained. He was at every crime scene. He had no alibi. And frankly, the man was just creepy. Hell, even if he wasn't good for the couples killings, James was sure he'd be good for some other killing sooner or later.

He beckoned for Jessica to follow him into the interrogation room where Markle was waiting. The door opened smoothly, and locked with a small click once Jessica was in. James stood opposite of where the suspect sat. He didn't want to sit down, to lower himself to the level that Markle was at and make them 'equals'. He wanted Markle to be afraid. Afraid, and worried enough to talk.

And Markle did talk. About nothing that had to do with the murders, of course.

“Why m' I here?”

James stayed silent, trusting Jessica to take his lead.

“You got no right! No right!”
Markle's voice quivered a bit. James just waited.

“I didn't do nothin' wrong! I didn't!. You got no right to keep me here!”

James slapped the manila file folder he had been holding onto the table, just out of Markle's reach. Markle jumped, startled at the sudden action and sound.

“What's that?” He asked, his voice still quivering. Obviously he was nervous.

“You don't know?” James asked, his voice monotone. All business. “These are pictures of the people you killed.”

“I didn't kill no one.” Markle folded his arms across his chest and shoved himself back in his seat. He looked angry, but James didn't miss the ever so slight upturn of the guy's lips. Not the smartest killer, Markle.