Floor 68.

XXXVII. - Vipers and Roses.

"Let's go over this, Mr. Mayer—"

A pair of blue eyes flickered from the cold desk to rest on the man.

"Tate-Mayer, please, Detective."

Detective Clarke raised his eyebrows as he cast a hard look on Ajax. The interrogation room was quiet, cold and impersonal. Matthew Clarke motioned to his fellow friend and second detective, — Andrew Blythe —, to take in Ajax' easy demeanour; the tattooed man was seated in his chair, back straight, as his determined steely eyes focused on Clarke.

"Let's go over this, Mr. Tate-Mayer.", the blonde man said as he looked at some papers on his desk. "You left your house at—"

"Mansion.", Ajax corrected again with a crooked grin as he clasped his fingers and leaned on the desk. "19-bedroom mansion, twenty-two bathrooms, 17-car garage, a ballroom, etcetera. You know the one."

Clarke tried to hold back an irritated sigh that ended up escaping his lips, anyway. He gave Blythe a weary looked before sitting on the desk, hovering upon Ajax' strong body.

"You left your mansion at 6:30 PM to attend Miss Matthews' dinner at La Duchesse, around 7 PM."

"Correct. Fourteen people can confirm that.", Ajax replied, too calm and well-composed for Detective Clarke's liking.

He glanced once more at the papers before whispering something into Blythe's ear, who silently nodded and exited the room. Ajax smirked and crossed his arms around his chest, unfazed.

"Are you trying to intimidate me, Mr. Clarke?", he asked, a hint of laughter in his voice. The detective raised his eyes from his papers to warily stare at the tattooed hunk.

"I am the detective, I ask the questions.", Matthew sternly commented which only caused Ajax to chuckle, unimpressed.

"You think that this interrogation room creates a sense of exposure; unfamiliarity and isolation that will heighten my urge to get away.", Ajax friendly smiled as if he wasn't the number one suspect in the death of Stonecrest Lake city's most dangerous and merciless drug dealer. "This uncomfortable chair is also a nice touch. Is it supposed to make me feel dependent and anxious, detective?"

Detective Clarke glanced at the observation mirror before diverting his gaze on the suspect. He felt nothing but pure contempt towards him for he wasn't a fan of his city's youngsters. They took things as if they were theirs, led a life of pure bliss and mostly, had it all easy. Matthew Clarke wasn't that lucky; he was born into the rough streets of Stonecrest Lake, the ones where prostitution and faith walk hand in hand, where you have more chances getting killed than graduating high school and where there was only one law; survival is for the strongest.

"I suggest you keep quiet, Mr. Tate-Mayer.", he advised with a hard look.

"Are they watching us, detective? I bet they are.", Ajax asked rhetorically as he glanced directly at the mirror. "I see it in your eyes that you want to impress someone. Who is it, your superiors or your crush/co-worker?"

"Mr. Tate-Mayer.", Matthew Clarke spoke, his voice a little bit more high-pitched than what he intended.

"You don't like me, do you?", Ajax stated rhetorically with raised eyebrows. "You're trying to establish that in here, you are the boss."

"Mr. Tate-Mayer, need I to remind you—"

"You're calling me as I instructed which is — may I remark —, not impressive. Let me tell you something about being a boss.", Ajax grinned wickedly before sinking in his chair. "Your fellow detective, Mr. Blythe, will walk in soon, he will whisper something in your ear and you'll give me a short look before walking away. You'll keep me waiting for around 20 to 30 minutes, to keep me worried and anxious. You will rearrange things around here, look at yourself in the mirror while I talk to you and that is to make me angry and have me saying things."