"Mr. Samuel Hanson. I am arresting you for the murder of Miss. Brooklyn Jones on Tuesday, 18th December 2017." "You have the right to retain and instruct counsel without delay. You also have the right to free and immediate legal advice from duty counsel by...." "I'm his lawyer." interjected Chad. The officer paused before continuing, "You also have the right to free and immediate legal advice from duty counsel by making free telephone calls to 1-800-668-8258. Do you understand?" Sam nodded. "Do you wish to call a lawyer?" "He's my lawyer," Sam mumbled, completely dumbfounded by this situation. "You also have the right to apply for legal assistance through the provincial legal aid program. Do you understand?" Sam nodded. "I wish to give you the following warning: You need not say anything. You have nothing to hope from any promise or favour and nothing to fear from any threat whether or not you say anything. Anything you do or say may be used as evidence. Do you understand?" Sam nodded. "I wish to give you the following warning: You must clearly understand that anything said to you previously should not influence you or make you feel compelled to say anything at this time. Whatever you felt influenced or compelled to say earlier, you are now not obliged to repeat, nor are you obliged to say anything further, but whatever you do say may be given as evidence. Do you understand?" Sam nodded as the two officers led him out of the house, cuffed and seating him in the back of the patrol car. [hr] On the other side of the road, Mrs. Green who had been [I] still [/I] minding her own business stood agape, staring out of the window. Recovering herself she immediately called every member of the Neighbourhood Watch Committee (and anyone else she felt should be informed..). After all, public safety was of paramount importance. [hr] "Just sit tight Sam, just sit tight," Chad said coolly. Chad paced the room whilst Sam sat cuffed to the desk in the interview room. "This has clearly been some kind of misunderstanding. My hunch is they have found the car that hit Brooklyn and somehow think it is connected to you." "How on earth can they think that?" Sam cried, incredulous. "We've got a car each and they've not taken mine. What do they think I have done?" "I don't know," Chad replied gently, "but it's important. I believe you, Ella believes you. Everyone who knows you will believe you but you have to level with me. Is there [I] anything [/I] you haven't told me about that night, or about your relationship. I can't defend or represent you if you keep things from me." "What the fuck Chad! I called you that night. I was at the station, I drove most of the night looking for Brooklyn. I came here the day after and told them my movements by the minute. My beautiful Brooklyn has been killed and these fucks think I'm responsible!" Sam didn't know how much more he could take. He'd not 'got over' Brooklyn, he never would, but he had found a way of dealing with the day, of getting through it. But now this... "Cool your jets Sam," Chad said, "Now, I'm going to give you some advice. They already have a record of your movements that night. You've told them. You don't have to say anything. Nothing. But it's advisable to give your name, address, date of birth and then say nothing else. They've found some evidence, or they think they have. We'll find that out. But remember this, whenever the police question a suspect it's because they don't have enough information to make a charge stick. Speaking cannot improve your situation. Stay silent, no matter how hard you want to defend yourself. We'll learn what they've got and you'll be out of here in no time." Sam rested his head in his hands. Not helping the police couldn't help - after all he wanted to help catch the killer but he was so confused. The very notion that he could be responsible would not register in his head. [hr] "Sam, can you tell me your movements on the night of Tuesday 18th?" "No comment." "How was Brooklyn feeling the night of her death? Did you guys have a fight?" "No comment." "Why did it take you so long to report Brooklyn's disappearance?" "No comment." "Now Sam, we need to get to the bottom of this. Was she having an affair? Was you? Were you angry? I'm sure you didn't mean to kill her. We see this all the time. A lover's tiff gone badly wrong. 'Un crime passionnel'? If you only meant to scare her or hurt her the charge may be manslaughter and you'll be out sooner. Don't Brooklyn's family deserve the truth?" Tears rolled down Sam's cheek. "No comment." "Can you account for your whereabouts between visiting the station and the discovery of Brooklyn that night?" "I was driving around town looking for her like you should have you fuck!" Sam shouted, "and then I was looking after our son who had just lost his fucking mother!" he cried, spittle forming at his mouth. "My client has already told you his movements..." Chad interjected. "Okay Sam, we're getting somewhere. Why did you do it?" "No comment," Sam sobbed. After what felt like hours Sam's resolve was beginning to crack. He had nothing to hide, he had done nothing wrong. If only the police understood this. Why was Chad advising him this way? "Look, you've got nothing on my client. He's told you everything he knows. More than once. You've no evidence whatsoever. You're clutching at straws. So, let's get this over with. Put whatever evidence you have on the table or release my client." Chad was calm and professional. Not for the first time Sam appreciated his presence. Officer Collins sighed and left the room. A few moments later he returned with a clear evidence bag. "So Sam," he said sitting heavily, "can you care to explain how this was found in the burnt out vehicle that was used to kill your fiancée?" On the table, in the clear bag was a loyalty card for 'Home Hardware'. Sam recognised the card as he'd been there often recently buying the wood, paint and tools for Louis' rocking horse. His eyes widened with horror when he saw the name on the loyalty card. 'Mr. Samuel Hanson'.