King of Crime ✔️

The First Interrogation

The FBI-agent assigned to Johann's case was a smart, tall, handsome man, no older than thirty. He was broad, but not ridiculously broad. His hair was blonde, though nearing brown, his eyes pale grey, and if there was ever an embodiment of the USA, he would most certainly be it.

He walked into the interrogation room, his files under one arm and his keys in his hand, while he shut the door behind him with the other. Within a few large steps he was at the steel table where I was seated, dropped his papers and dossiers on his side of the plain, cold surface, and looked me in the eyes.

Even though he wasn't too close, I could smell his body. His aftershave, his deodorant, and the steely smell of blood.

"Hi." I smiled up at him. He nodded at my greeting, pulled out his chair and sat down.

"Good evening, Samantha Davies, I'm Samuel Thomson," he introduced himself, with a dispassionate smile to return mine and a firm handshake, staying clear of any jokes about our names.

He leaned back in his chair, studying my posture."I am the Special Agent on the case you're being interrogated for. I trust you know why you're here already?"

I nodded. His expression wasn't giving away anything. I couldn't tell whether I was on his good or bad side, whether he just wanted information from me or suspected me to be an accomplice, and this fact made me very conscious about everything I did.

Even though I never committed a crime in my life, I knew all too well what Johann had done, as I did some digging by myself as well. Just knowing him would raise suspicion with anyone.

Samuel opened his files, and I recognized my picture.

"Alright then. That's great. Shall we start with the basic questions?" the man queried.

As he intertwined his fingers on the table and I noticed how big his hands were. I nodded again, straightening my shoulders but letting them sag instantly. He smiled uncomfortably.

"No need to be tensed. You're not being suspected of anything as of yet."

The Special Agent looked like this was his first time, trying to calm down someone instead of trying to get under their skin, and I grinned back helplessly. He let out a breath, eyeing a list with questions in front of him.

I knew my eyes were flirting with him, and I tried to contain myself in front of this man. It's something I always managed to do, attract guys that scared the shit out of me. Luckily, this one seemed to be completely unaffected.

He continued, "First off, where did you meet him?"

"In a bar, The Mesmerist, in Brighton."

I followed the dancing lights on the wall. Outside, leaves teased the small window. Brushing my gaze over the camera that was pointed at me, like an audience of thousands analyzing every word I said, goosebumps appeared on my skin.

"When?"

"I honestly wouldn't know. It was summer, I was seventeen. So, about, two years ago?"

He raised his eyebrows at me. I pinched my thumb between my index- and middle finger. Stupid, you should've tried to find the exact date before coming here.

"You lived in Brighton at the time, isn't that right?"

"Yeah, yeah. With my family," I responded.

The Special Agent nodded, following my gaze to the lights on the wall, before meeting it. He didn't look judging, nor bored, nor angry. He wasn't so bad.

Leaning forward, Agent Thomson folded his hands before him on the surface.

"Please elaborate how you found yourself in a relationship with Johann Hannig," he finally spoke.