"Rainar, is it?" Larissa asked the man before her as she sat down.
The middle-aged man was not even 50 yet, but had a face that had seen a lot of things. A scar ran down the side of his face, up to his neck, a wound that looked more like a burn than anything.
"So, can you tell why I’m here, pretty face?" the man asked. "Or will I have to wait for that too?"
Larissa glared at him. "Call a pretty face again and I’ll make sure your face is symtrical."
"Oh! Feisty," the man said. "But I don’t hate that."
"Where were you between the hours of 2 and 4?" she asked.
"Asleep, in my apartnt," the man said.
"Yes, and anyone who can vouch for you?"
"You know I already told you there’s no one," the man said. "Why do you keep asking the sa question?"
"Just in case you’ve changed your words since then," Larissa said. "What do you know about the attack on Grimhide Chak?"
"Grim... who?" the man asked.
"Grimhide Chak. Or as you might know him by, Mudmill," she asked.
"I’m sorry, lady. I have no idea who Mudmill is. I’ve never even heard of his na before in my life."
"You’re gonna say you’ve never heard of him? Do you want to believe that?" she asked.
"There’s nothing to believe. It’s the truth. I have never heard of this man before in my life."
"Then I assu you’re gonna deny having ever worked for the Gallows too," she asked.
"Woah, woah, woah! I’ve done my ti for what I did with the Gallows. 12 years in prison, lady. If this is about the Gallows, then I’ve washed my hands of them a long ti ago."
"12 years in prison," Larissa said. "A long ti to think about how you’re gonna hurt soone. How you’re gonna kill them. So much anger must’ve festered within you at that ti."
"Anger?" the man asked. "Of course I was angry. It was prison. But what else was I supposed to do? I got out, and I got my act straight."
"Straight, huh?" Larissa asked, opening his file. "Let’s see here. You’ve been caught with drugs, found being involved in battles, and were arrested during an illegal prostitution crackdown."
The man paused for a bit. "Straighter, then. Anything is better than what I did with the Gallows, right? And for the third one, a man needs company now and again. It wasn’t like I ran that prostitution ring. I rely enjoyed what they provided."
"And I suppose you didn’t attack Mudmill either."
"Who the hell is Mudmill?" the man asked.
"The bookkeeper for Trunno Gallow himself. Do you deny knowing him?" she asked.
"Huh? The bookkeeper— Oh! You’re talking about old man Muddy? Shit, is he still alive? I thought he died during the fire."
"The fire?" Larissa asked.
"Yeah, the fire. When they ca to capture us, a fight broke out. The house went up in flas. Look, this is what you get when a hot tal wire lands on you. A wound that never disappears."
"So you’re saying you didn’t know he was alive," she asked.
"I didn’t. Not that I care either. Why would I attack an old man?" he asked.
Larissa stared at him. "I’ll be back."
She left the room and Ning walked out of the other one at the sa ti.
"I don’t think he knows anything," Ning said. "He fits the age, but besides that, there’s nothing."
Larissa frowned. "I feel the sa. But I don’t like it. If this doesn’t pan out then we have nothing."
Ning nodded. "Not nothing, but..."
Larissa narrowed her eyes. "Do you have sothing?" she asked.
"A hail mary," Ning said. "Let’s first exhaust all our options before we go for this."
Larissa stared at him, trying to dig out more answers from him, but she could get nothing. Her eyes flickered to the side. "Jack is here. I’ll go and try my luck with the woman. Do you want to watch that or..."
"Give a minute with this man. I have sothing I need to find," Ning said.
Larissa nodded and left.
Ning walked over to where Mira was still hard at work and whispered sothing to her.
Mira turned around with a confused look, but Ning had already walked away from her. He went into the interrogation room where the man waited with a bored look.
"Huh? Where’s the pretty lady?" the man asked.
"You’re stuck with a pretty lad, I fear," Ning said as he sat before the man.
"In that case I would rather not be stuck at all," the man said.
"Best way for that is to answer everything truthfully," Ning said. "Question, were Mudmill to be responsible for Trunno Gallow’s downfall, who do you think would go after him?"
The man’s eyes changed. "What? Old man Muddy responsible for the syndicate’s downfall? No way."
"No way indeed, but it doesn’t take a smart person to lie," Ning said. "Who would go after the man if they thought they would get revenge on Trunno?"
The man frowned. "A lot, I suppose. There were many people who were thrown into prison because of the boss’s downfall. There were quite a few that were even given death sentences."
He sighed, thinking about his own past.
"I cannot bla soone if they did."
Just then, Ning felt his phone buzz. He brought out his phone and quickly pulled up a picture that had been sent to him. He didn’t know how true his hunch was yet, but he had to go with it.
"Do you recognize this person?" he asked.
"No, who is this child?" the man asked.
"This would be 20 years ago now. Think and see if you can rember a face that looks like this. Did you ever seen a young man like this around the Gallows?"
The man frowned. Then, his eyes slowly widened as he rembered sothing.
"Wait, I rember that face. That’s the boss’s son."
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