Slither, he was the piece of sh*t that no one wanted to meet in a dark alley. Tall, lanky, he looked as if a stiff wind could have knocked him over; but there was far more to him than what could be seen. Born Francis Aloysius Thibodeau, the young, Caucasian male always seemed to be getting into trouble. From his youth when he would swipe candies, to his high years when he picked random fights and slapped a poor cheerleader around for not wanting to go to prom with him. It all got worse once Francis discovered he was a mutant – and a hell of a mutation it was.

Snakes physiology. His powers mutation turned his body into that of a snake’s. Now that didn’t inherently mean that the man was evil despite pop culture references to snakes, but Francis (turned Slither) certainly tried to embrace that moniker. His body was covered in pale white scales across his chest, the under of his arms, his throat, even onto his chin. The rest, however, pulled back into a cascade of yellow colors, reminiscent of a Burmese python. His slitted, green eyes could unnerve the hardiest of souls and his curved, fanged teeth dripped with saliva every time he smiled. A lot of people thought he was a demon, but to the N.Y.P.D. he was a criminal.

In and out of prison most of his life, Slither ( he dropped the real name as soon as he could) at been a constant at the precinct. However his cases were never as more severe as it was this time. Peddling drugs, random assault and battery, a few nights in the drunk tank, it was the standard fair for him. However, last night had been a particularly different case for the mutant. He and woman he had been shacked up with, a Debra Owlie, had been having troubles. A few times the police had been called over for domestic dispute calls, with advice to the young woman that maybe she should be moving on. Sadly, as it proved with most cases, she never did; and it was a mistake like that which had cost her her life.

The call came in that screaming could be heard. The arresting officer, one Richard M. Smiley, appeared, ready to go over the same routine with the both of them. Unfortunately this time he would discovered Debra dead, her torso crushed as if by some constricting force. Slither was found only a block away, reeking of booze and with a gash to his cheek. It seemed like a fairly open and shut case, after all, forensics just needed to confirm the blood and skin cells under Debra’s fingernails belong to the mutant. The man would be incarcerated before sun down.

However, there was still always the chance that Slither could get off on a technicality – hence the reason for this particular interview; an interview headlined by one Jorge Cervantes.

Sitting in the cold interrogations room, Jorge sighed, smiling a thin little smile as he looked across the metal table to the clearly irritated Slither. Jorge was dressed in his usual work arrive, jeans with a button up shirt and his brown leather jacket over his shoulders. His badge gleamed from a chain that was situated over his neck. As he ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, Jorge breathed another sigh, reaching over and plucking up his coffee cup with the Miami Dolphins logo on it. Taking a long, slow slip, or rather an obnoxious sluuuuuuuuuurp, he caught the mutant’s eyes and grinned again.

”Apologies if that annoyed you,” he said gently, setting it down on the table. ”Been a long night. You know. Collecting evidence and what not…”

Slither wrinkled the slits of his nostrils and turned away. “Whatevah. Not like you’ll find anything…”

Jorge tilted his head, twirling a silver pen between his fingers. ”Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

The reptilian mutant opened his mouth to berate Jorge and his smug smile again but the mutant barely got out a hiss of a word (maybe it was just a hiss) before he stopped himself and hatefully turned away from the officer. Hands cuffed to the table, the mutant rested his head down upon the surface, his forest green tank top and his baggy camouflage pants smelling of sweat and desperation. Quietly he banged his head upon the metal table, before lifting his gaze to the detective again.

“Come ooooooonnn, man! Been here for ****ing hours!” he grumbled, his forked tongue slithering out from his lips. “I didn’t do nothing!”

”Really?” Jorge said calmly. He opened the file in front of him, looking at pictures of the scene. ”It sure looks like something was done here. In your home. With your girlfriend.”

“I didn’t nothing!” Slither growled angrily, a hint of uncertainty in his raspy voice. “Either way, the ***** got what she deserved!”

Jorge eyes lit up. Another calm and collected smile pulled at the corners of his lips. Slither, knowing he was only digging himself in deeper, clamped his teeth shut and set his lips into a hard, unforgiving line. The detective adjusted his position, both elbows resting on the table as he eyed the mutant a bit more closely, his scrutinizing making Slither all that much more uncomfortable. Good. He was ready to crack.

”Why don’t you tell me about what ‘she deserved’?” he asked gently. ”I just want your side of the story.”

Slither, visibly shaking, exhausted, pushed to his limit thanks to boredom, guilt, and glaring, took one deep, rattling breath. He then moistened his dry lips with his long, forked tongue, before he locked eyes with the detective again. Opening his mouth, he readied to speak…

A folder dropped onto Ion's desk. He looked up from his laptop to see one of the partners standing there. A tall man with traditionally handsome features. The man tapped his finger onto the folder and said, "Drop everything and go get this kid out of lockup." With that he turned and left the office.

Ion slid the folder closer and opened it. A stack of paper and a few photos sat inside. He scanned the top page; it gave him the name Francis Aloysius Thibodeau, the alias Slither, and his current location in police custody. He closed the folder, and called an Uber. Time was not his ally and he needed to read everything in the file.

Sliding on his suit jacket and grabbing his leather briefcase, Ion left his office and made his way to the elevator. He checked the time on his watch. He decided he should have enough time to make it to Slither before he decides to get himself convicted out of stupidity. Out of the elevator and then out the front door. His ride was there waiting. Into the back of the Uber, provide the address, and off they went.

The documents in the folder contained all previous criminal records for Slither. Arrest dates, charges, final dispositions. Several current photos of him. Even the man's permanent record from school was there. It really might follow you kids so keep your nose clean in class.

Near the back of the stack was the current situation. Slither's girlfriend had been found dead, her torso constricted. Slither was found drunk and bleeding. It all looked like an open and shut case against Slither, Ion didn't even doubt that he might have done it. Whether Slither killed his girlfriend or not of course was irrelevant. His job was to see his new defendant freed. He must know someone important, or is the estranged son of someone-

There it was.

On the last page the reason why Ion was being sent to see Justice denied. She would not see a sacrifice in Slither. Not for that. Not while Ion was there.

The Uber came to a stop. Ion slid the folder into his briefcase and slid out his cell phone to throw the driver a five star rating. His phone was inside of a small Faraday cage for a case. Once he opened the case it took a moment for it to get signal. It made contacting Ion difficult, but saved it when he used his power. Finally he stepped out of the Uber and entered the police station.

There was always a sense of excitement in New York City's police stations. The city was so large that something was always happening. This was good if you were in the business of criminal defense. Police moved around, criminals were escorted, and sometimes the crazies came in to admit to crimes like the JFK assassination or stealing the moon. The latter was at the front desk detailing his operation to the officer unfortunate enough to be stationed there.

Ion would not have to wait however, there was another desk for lawyers to sign in. You have to give lawyers nice things. If you don't they sue until they get them anyway.

No one was in line so Ion stepped up, produced an ID and announced himself, "William Maxwell Faraday, attorney to Francis Thibodeau or Slither."

The officer checked the ID and then checked his computer. "Alright Mr. Faraday, we got Slither down in interrogation room four. Detective Cervantes is in there with him now." A wave to another officer. "Officer Booker here will show you the way. Just sign in here" He said holding out a clipboard.

It was a nice way of saying Officer Booker would be escorting him. Couldn't trust a lawyer alone for sixty feet.

Ion tool the clipboard, "Thank you," He glanced at the officer's name on his uniform, "Officer Officer." Ion even managed a straight face as he said it. He signed his name and passed the clipboard back. Then Officer Booker arrived to babysit him.

"Follow me." Officer Booker said before he took off down the hall. Ion strolled behind him. He took one last chance to review all the pertinent information in his head. He had heard of Detective Cervantes. He was a good detective, but he had to play inside a much smaller box than Ion. The system was built around the idea it is better to let ninety-nine guilty people go free than to convict one innocent man. Reasonable doubt was all Ion needed, but stopping this mess before trial was preferable.

"Here you are." Officer Booker opened the door and Ion stepped inside.

Detective Jorge Cervantes was opposite Slither at the table. Slither looked as if he was ready to confess. Not today. Ion moved smoothly across the room, introducing himself as he walked. "I'm William Maxwell Faraday, I'm Mr. Thibodeau's attorney." He set his briefcase on the table. Now that he was closer to Slither he could see a light redness on his forehead, possibly from laying his head on the desk for a prolonged period or him hitting it against the table.

"I don't ha-" He began, but Ion cut him off.

He set a hand on Slither's shoulder and accused Jorge, "Have you injured my client's face, Detective Cervantes?" he indicated the redness on Slither's forehead. It was incredibly difficult to see thanks to the scales, but Ion was looking for anything to use to start Detective Cervantes on the back foot. "Do I need to request you removed from this case?" He produced his phone.

This was it. Jorge say calmly on his side of the table, the folder closed in front of him, his hands folded neatly upon the surface. He knew that Slither had done this deed, he knew that the mutant was guilty and needed to be shoved back into jail, this time for a much longer sentence. Abuse and petty crimes were one thing, but murder? Cold-blooded murder? There was no dancing around that one. Slither was all the way up sh*t-creek without a paddle.

While the detective was assured that forensics would put him at the scene, it was always best to get a confession, just to ensure that there would be no more wiggle room for him. In all honestly, it may cost a couple years off his sentence, but he’d rather the man go away for certain than leave it for the courts to and technicalities to set him free. Slither needed to be off the streets, finally, there was no denying that at this point.

All he needed was one thing from him…a story. He needed Slither to tell his side, he needed him to realize that this was probably the best course of action for him. For a minute there it seemed as if it was going to work. Jorge watched attentively as Sither made motions to talk. He had him, he knew that he did.

However, the worst of possible scenarios would occur when the door to the interrogation room opened. For a moment Jorge was confused, thinking that maybe this was a detective or some else who needed his assistance, but he would swiftly be proven wrong.

>> "I'm William Maxwell Faraday, I'm Mr. Thibodeau's attorney."

He sighed. He was irritated but equally confused. As far as he knew, Slither never asked for an attorney, so who was this Mickey Mouse Club looking bastard? Jorge gave him a strange look, eyeing him suspiciously before he greeted himself. ”Detective Cervantes…” he introduced himself. ”I wasn’t aware that ‘Mr. Thibodeau’ here called a lawyer…”

>> "I don't ha-“

Jorge attention shot back to the mutant thug. It sounded like he was going to admit to not actually having a lawyer. If that were the case, then what the hell was going on. He turned back to the younger man. He looked almost as if he had stepped out of some musical movie he had seen recently about a jazz musician and his actress girlfriend in Los Angeles.

He was about to inquire what was going on when the Mr. Farraday seemed to be concerning himself with the well-being of his client. He was inspecting a spot on the mutant’s face, a spot that Jorge could honestly barely see in this limited light.

>> "Have you injured my client's face, Detective Cervantes? Do I need to request you removed from this case?"

His eyebrow arched. Seriously? With a sigh, he shook his head. ”Calm down, ‘La La Land’,” God, whoever this Farraday is, he does look exactly like that actor. He then gestured to a camera located in the corner of the room with the red dot clearly shining to indicate it was on. ”I didn’t touch your ‘client’. Feel free to check the surveillance. Now, what’s all this about? I’m merely trying to get Slither’s story straight.”

Detective Cervantes responded to Ion giving his name by providing his own. It was not necessary, the man was known among the defense attorneys in this city. He was good at his job. Of course Detective Cervantes didn’t know that Ion would already be aware of him.

Then in response to his question regarding injuring Slither, the detective told Ion to calm down and called him ‘La La Land.’ Ion returned the arched eyebrow look. He’d never been referred to by a movie title before. Ion had heard it was good, but he didn’t have time for movies. He was much too busy keeping mutants out of jail and working to change the world for the betterment of mutants over humans.

”That’s alright, I’ll trust you. If I see something like this again though I will look into it.” Ion opened his briefcase and drew out a legal pad and pen. He set them in front of himself before he returned his gaze to Jorge and answered his question. ”I’m here to represent… Slither,” His tone made a show of lowering himself to using the adopted name as Jorge had, ”in this matter. He has the right to counsel and I am here to provide it.” His gaze flashed to Slither, ”It was wise of you to have retained our services, Mr. Thibodeau.”

“Uh...Yeah.” Slither said uneasily before swallowing and adding more confidently, “Thanks for coming in so quickly.”

”It is what I am paid for.” Turning back to Jorge Ion picked up his pen, removed the cap and held it ready to write.”Before you begin your interrogation I would like to formally request a copy of the probable cause affidavit which I can only assume has not been provided. I can request one from the court, but this would make things faster if I could receive a copy today. I must also ask if my client has been made aware of his rights. He seemed ready to talk when I arrived, has he waived his Miranda rights?”

Again Ion turned to Slither, ”Remember, you do not have to answer anything but silence can been seen as guilt. I can advise you of what to answer and what to not answer. I believe you are innocent and will see you through.”

He gestured for Jorge to begin.

Jorge did understand the need for lawyers…to a certain degree. In a system such as theirs, there is of course people who have been wrongfully accused, people who need justice in the courts, and sometimes lawyers could be good people who truly did want to make the world a better place in a system that is highly flawed. However, over his number of years as a police officer, those were a select few as the vast majority of such people tended to be rather – morally stunted. It wasn’t always justice they were after; it was victory. The need to win and the need to bring about justice were two separate things in Jorge’s book, a viewpoint that, unfortunately, not a lot of people shared in this day and age.

Tilting his head, he sighed rather deeply at the implication that he had harmed the mutant. Jorge was a good cop and rarely, if ever, stepped out of line when he was doing his job. He didn’t beat down anyone, unless he was attacked first. His record and his moral stance were enough to make him one of the pillars of the police force, a man who embodied exactly what the N.Y.P.D. should embody. Of course that didn’t mean that comment’s like Mr. Faraday’s didn’t get under his skin.

He’d met lawyers like him before. Slimy little weasels that looked for any means to bring doubt into the conversation. Doubt that the officers were in their right mind. Doubt that their accused was actual the person who committed the crime even though all evidence pointed at them. Doubt that the police had any right at all to just do their jobs effectively. The thing about doubt was that it was one of the most dangerous concepts on the planet, so Jorge was going to have to be on his guard.

>> ”That’s alright, I’ll trust you. If I see something like this again though I will look into it.”

He narrowed his eyes, just the smallest bit towards the man as he scrutinized him. Normally the detective tried to ensure that he gave everyone a chance, but Faraday was making that quite difficult.

With the introductions out of the way, Jorge tried to drill down into the bedrock of the issue, why was the man here. Yes, he was a lawyer, but as far as the detective knew, Slither had exactly requested one. He had been too busy clamming up, trying to keep from talking to make any real legal moves. This, admittedly, surprised the detective.

>> ”I’m here to represent… Slither… in this matter. He has the right to counsel and I am here to provide it…It was wise of you to have retained our services, Mr. Thibodeau.”

Jorge watched the interaction with interest. Something was off about this. Slither wasn’t that smart to call a lawyer on his own, let alone afford one that could get him out of a jam like this. Faraday looked too clean cut to be the standard kind of defense lawyer, at least not the 1-800-Accidente ones that were in Slither’s price range. So how was this even possible?

Faraday peacocked his legal know-how, requesting a probable cause affidavit from them personally as a means of speeding up the process as opposed to getting one from the court. He further went on to inquiry as to whether Slither’s rights had been read in full and if the man had waived them; an explanation as to why he started talking. Jorge just breathed a short breath – of course they never got to that point. Slither had been silent this whole time and it had been detrimental to both parties.

”I’ll see you get the affidavit,” Jorge said rather lowly. ”As for Miranda rights, they were read to him in full.”

Turning to sooth his client, Jorge quietly shook his head outside of Faraday’s line of sight. This investigation was going to grind to a halt, wasn’t it?

Slither was clearly unsure what was happening but he was rolling with it. Why wouldn’t he? Who wouldn’t turned down free legal representation from a man in an expensive, custom tailored suit?

“Umm…yeah, yess…” he nodded. He turned back to Jorge, just slightly smug. “I didn’t do nuffin. She and I had our problems…but…I…I wasn’t the one who killed the b**ch.”

He was getting bolder. Jorge could see that. With a lawyer at his side, the man knew that he had firepower, even if it was firepower he never ordered. To someone like Jorge, to looked at the reports, at the history of the man, it was clear that he had done it. His abilities, his temper, all of it painted the picture of a man who had just snapped. The one thing was at least the man was talking now – even if it had the tinges of bald-faced lying.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jorge leaned back in his chair and looked between the two of them. His eyes rested on Slither. ”Then please. Enlighten me. Who could have wanted to?”

Slither eyed Jorge closely, glanced to his lawyer, and looked down to the table top. He muttered incoherently to himself a bit, as if trying to form words from gibberish. He clearly took the lawyers words to heart, silence could be damning. So, with small breath he blurted out: “Her boyfriend. The jack*** she was cheating on me with.”

Jorge would see that Ion received the affidavit. Good. It would save him the effort and get it into his hand that much sooner. And Slither having been Mirandized meaning he had also waived his rights or else the interview would have been over. It was a good thing Ion had arrived when he did or else who knows what the idiot would have said to the detective.

Ion narrowed his eyes and gave Slither a sideways glance when he swore. This was not the time or place for such language. He’d let it slide this time, it wouldn’t do to chastise Slither at this point if he could avoid it.

The rest of what Slither had said was fine. Reiterating his lack of guilt, if you assume his double-negative was a sign of lack of education. This led to the detective asking who could have wanted to kill the victim.

Ion gave a nod to Slither to answer the question and he said it was the boyfriend. Well, other boyfriend that she had been cheating on Slither with. Ion looked to Slither and quietly said, ”I am advising you to watch your language. Anything you say can be used and profanity does not play well with juries.” His voice went quieter as he spoke. His first statement was fine for Jorge to hear, but he’d rather the reasoning remain private. Not that it would be problematic if it was heard.

Slither looked back to Ion and it took his brain a moment to process back through what he had said. “Uh...Yeah, sorry.”

To the detective Ion said, ”Has this other boyfriend been interviewed? Or are you tageting my client due to prejudice against visible mutations?”

Ion knew he would have to run damage control following Slither’s answer to the question. Saying that she had been cheating on him gave him motive. One more slip like that from Slither and he would ask the detective for a few minutes alone with Slither.

Jorge waited to hear what Slither had to say. He knew the man was guilty, he knew that forensics would eventually give them the physical evidence that they needed to ensure that the man would be put away for decades rather than a year or two. However, the situation was more complicated now. The lawyer which sat next to the mutant was going to be a problem. As much as Jorge hated to admit it, things were going to get difficult and he was silently preparing himself for the stone wall hurdles were that were about to be tossed up in front of him.

But he was just going to have to deal with it. The lawyer was here, he seemed invested, and it was doubtful he would be going away on his own just yet. So, with his jaw firmly set, Jorge sighed and turned his firm, brown eyes directly onto the mutant in question again.

He wanted to know what happened, for Slither to explain to him how he was innocent given the evidence that so far was being sifted through. A confession would make this process a whole lot easier but that seemed impossible with the lawyer in the room. They were going to have to do this the old fashioned way and catch him in a lie.

Or beat it out of him. But he was only half-kidding with that thought.

Slither explained that he wasn’t the one who had killed his lover (though he used much more colorful language). Instead he decided then and there to drop a bomb that Jorge wasn’t all-together sure he wanted to believe. There was a boyfriend…apparently. Though Slither was the only one caught near the scene, he claimed that it was probably the boyfriend she was cheating on him with.

Jorge narrowed his eyes. Already he was calling B.S…

>> ”I am advising you to watch your language. Anything you say can be used and profanity does not play well with juries.”

>> “Uh...Yeah, sorry.”

He watched the exchange quietly. Reaching onto the table, he pulled up a thin pencil where he started to jot down notes from the fairytale that Slither spun. He heard Faraday admonish Slither for his choice of language but as the two leaned in and spoke in hushed tones, the detective turned his eyes back down to the paper. Council, he hated actively listening to it as it tended to be shady nonsense. Saying nothing, he focused on the paper and finished his note before he lifted his eyes once again to the duo.

>> ”Has this other boyfriend been interviewed? Or are you tageting my client due to prejudice against visible mutations?”

God, this again. Jorge shook his head. ”Truth is, this is the first that I’m hearing of this…development. Your client has been stubbornly silent this whole time. Strange as I think that would be the first thing I would say.” He turned back to face Slither. ”Convenient how that slipped your memory before. Didn’t feel that was an important point to bring up?”

“Man…f**k you and that guy who arrested me…”

Jorge smirked. ”You mean officer Mayweather? Daisy Mayweather?” He asked. ”I’ll pass along the fact that you remembered her so vividly.” Taking a moment to clear his throat, he sat his with pencil once again poised over his pad. ”Any information on this ‘boyfriend’, you’d like to share?”

The good news was that the boyfriend was real. Slither didn’t know about him, but Ion did. The firm had acted fast and had rolled him up. If Slither could control himself he could get the man out of here, possibly even today. Remove probable cause a and Ion could have the charges dropped.

Slither controlling himself seemed to be far from what he was capable of doing. The detective spoke and it would have been simple enough for Ion to deflect, but Slither insisted on not only speaking but again swearing. Ion held his tongue until after Jorge had spoken again. Slither was about to speak when Ion cut him off.

Slither had lost speaking privileges for a moment.

”At the time of the arrest my client was intoxicated, Detective. I would ask you refrain from badgering my client. His ability to recall the arresting officer is not germane to this investigation.” Ion reached into his briefcase again and withdrew a photo of a man the same age and height as slither but lacking a visible mutation. He passed the photo over to the Detective. ”Daniel Thompson. The victim’s other boyfriend.”

“That son of a-” Ion turned bodily to face Slither cutting him off.

”Mr. Thibodeau. I am advising you to hold your tongue. Your language is as uncivilized as it is belligerent.” Ion used the language as the pretext to stop Slither from speaking. At least he was predictable.

Ion turned back to Jorge and drew out a document from his briefcase. ”Here is an email sent from Mr. Thompson to his brother on the night of May 6th, 2017.” He passed the email to the detective. It was an email detailing his discovery that the victim was also involved with another man and that this other man was a mutant with a visible mutation. He went further on describing how he would like nothing more than to kill the pair of them.

”I have others if you would like to see. Text messages as well. If you would like to look them over I would like to take a moment to speak privately with my client.”

All the messages were genuine and when cherry picked told enough of a story to provide momentary cover.

Jorge didn’t like where all this was headed. It was essentially a clear open and shut case to him, especially given Slither’s history, but the mutant was now beginning to cast doubt on the entire investigation. With the admission that his girlfriend was having an affair, there was now doubt as to whether or not the man had actually performed this murder; not enough to change Jorge’s mind, but enough for the lawyer to latch onto and make a case out of it. He sighed a bit at this, jotting down more notes – the investigation would have to continue.

At Slither’s derisive commentary on the details of his arrest, the detective couldn’t help but toss a little bit of snark back at him. It only proved to him, further, just how much the mutant didn’t realize the trouble he as in. He couldn’t tell the difference as to who actually arrested him. Drunk, easily prone to anger, and history was enough for Jorge to bet money that he was the culprit. But, of course, the lawyer would make this matter all the more difficult.

>>”At the time of the arrest my client was intoxicated, Detective. I would ask you refrain from badgering my client. His ability to recall the arresting officer is not germane to this investigation…Daniel Thompson. The victim’s other boyfriend.”

>>“That son of a-”

>>”Mr. Thibodeau. I am advising you to hold your tongue. Your language is as uncivilized as it is belligerent.”

Jorge blinked, watching the exchange. Faraday was clearly in his field of expertise. The way that he managed to spin the story, even trying to chide the detective from his own abusive attitude towards the criminal. Of course Jorge’s words were quite measured and he, in no way, was outright belligerent to Slither, not in the way that the snake mutant was being to him, by any measure. Of course Jorge was more than willing to accept Slither’s commentary as it only deepened the hole he was digging for himself.

Faraday, however, knew that this was a bad call and immediately took away the mutant’s right to speak, informing him that his outbursts were in no way acceptable. For the briefest moments Jorge appreciated that, but he was well aware that this was just a tactic to keep him from incriminating himself further.

>> ”Here is an email sent from Mr. Thompson to his brother on the night of May 6th, 2017.”

The detective narrowed his eyes but he didn’t say anything. Instead he merely took the printouts that were offered to him, giving them a careful look over. Much like what Faraday said, it detailed a rather scandalous affair that the victim was a part of, including another liaison with a third party, this one another mutant who also possessed a visible mutation and his want to kill the young woman for her lecherous behavior.

He shook his head. It was all too clear. All too…perfect. He didn’t like how things were shaping up, especially considering the two (make that three) new players who were suddenly being added to this drama. Was this a criminal case or a goddamn soap opera? The detective certainly didn’t like where any of this was going.

>>”I have others if you would like to see. Text messages as well. If you would like to look them over I would like to take a moment to speak privately with my client.”

”Very well…” Jorge said, awaiting the documents. Once he would receive them he would step out of the room to allow the lawyer and his “client” the privacy they wanted. Of course, Slither couldn’t let the matter go without one final word towards Jorge as the man stood up.

”F**king pig…” he grumbled under his breath, but still loud enough for the detective to hear.

The detective said nothing but took the offered documents and looked them over. Ion watched him as he scanned. It was clear that the detective didn’t like what he saw. Whether it was because it was chipping away at the case or because it was exactly what Slither needed and fit too well, Ion didn’t know. He would have put money on the latter though. Detective Cervantes was not some comically slow detective from a sit com.

He only needed it to give him a little room to work in.

It seemed to be working enough. The detective agreed to give him a moment in exchange for the additional documents. Ion reached into his briefcase and produced the documents. All nicely organized. The detective took them and stood. Slither opened his mouth again. He was quieter but there was no doubt the detective heard. Ion clenched a fist under the table and waited for the detective to leave.

Ion spoke quietly, they were still in an interrogation room and someone could be listening on the other side of the glass. ”Listen to me, Slither. I know you did this, they know you did this, don’t look at me like that you know you did this and that it is obvious. I am all that stands between you and a life tucked away and forgotten in some prison. If you continue to speak as you have to the detective it will undermine everything I am trying to do to see that you can walk out of here. Possibly today.” He said it calmly as he shuffled papers obscuring his mouth.

He looked to Slither, cutting off a reply. ”No. I don’t want to hear anything from you except in the briefest and quietest manner possible tell me what happened. Not what you told the police. We can line up your story now and move on, you have the cover of having been intoxicated and couldn’t be sure until now. Nothing has been said that cannot be changed, there has been no deposition so you have yet to be under oath and you have signed no confession.”

Slither gave Ion a look like he couldn’t believe Ion would say that to him. It was clear Slither was there to make everything magically go away no matter what happened. Slither had thought that his attorney would just blindly believe his story and make the police believe it too.

Ion stared him down. Slither caved and told the story. He had killed his girlfriend and he did not know for sure about the other boyfriend. He had suspected, and had seen Mr. Thompson that day talking to his girlfriend and they seemed too close. Slither had gotten drunk and blacked out. There really was a slim chance he didn’t kill his girlfriend, but Ion didn’t believe he didn’t. He was use to representing people who were so incredibly guilty.

They spent a few minutes quietly straightening the story. He’d gone out to drink, he had seen Mr. Thompson that day, but didn’t know he was another boyfriend.

Finally Ion said, ”And control your mouth. No more cursing or angry outbursts.” then he walked to the door and knocked announcing, ”You can return detective Cervantes.”

Oh, Jorge had heard Slither all right. He heard the man’s comment the second that it slipped out of his scaly lips. Normally Jorge would have been unfazed by it, especially considering the fact that they essentially had Slither over a barrel only moments ago. He was getting ready to break, Jorge could see that, police watching through the glass could see it, all they needed was a few more seconds and this case could have been closed and Slither would finally be off the streets. That was what everyone here wanted; that was what justice demanded.

But there were those, like Faraday in there, who at times seemed to be working against justice. That wasn’t fair of him to say, though. He knew that he shouldn’t stereotype, that some lawyers were actually good and their jobs and fought the hard fight in order to battle against a corrupt system. But to watch someone like Faraday defend a piece of slime like Slither just got under his skin like a splinter.

Slither was guilty. His history and his violent outbursts all made him the most likely suspect. In glancing at the documents that the lawyer handed him, however, painted a different picture. It painted one of a promiscuous lover, one who cheated on lover after lover and, in the end, her lying eventually caught up with her. Did the punishment fit the crime? Hell no. But that wouldn’t matter to the jury, not if Faraday presented evidence like this. Instead, Slither would become the victim, and the victim would become a cold woman who got what was coming to her. It was a sick, sad world.

But it was one Jorge had to function in.

He flipped through the pages provided. Again, it nagged at him how clean it was. Something was up but it wasn’t anything he could prove right now. The police themselves would have to investigate this so called boyfriend and follow that lead, if it was one at all. All he knew was that right now, Faraday had thrown a rather sizeable wrench in his plans; plans that would have seen Slither in a jail cell, not inches away from a temporary reprieve.

Sometimes the system couldn’t be more sh***y.

>> ”You can return detective Cervantes.”

Knocking echoed on the door and Jorge reorganized the papers he had been given, marched over and pulled the door open. Once inside, he glanced between Faraday and Slither. Where before Slither was the picture of impudence, he was now meek and quiet, staring down at the table and unwilling to meet Jorge’s eyes. The detective narrowed his for a brief moment before he moved before the table, crossing his arms over his chest.

”Alright,” he said measuredly. ”Let’s start this again. You said you just recalled the victim having an affair. I want you to give your account again and this time, if any memories managed to shake free, feel free to share them with the rest of the class.” he took a seat. Oh he knew that Slither was going to see the outside of this room before long, but by god he was going to make him work for it. He then glanced to Faraday. ”Unless Mr. Faraday feels like I’d be badgering you again? If that’s the case, I’m sure I can get another officer in here. Should only take a couple more hours.” he smiled sweetly. ”Busy day, after all.”

As the detective returned, Ion returned to his seat beside Slither. The detective likewise took his seat. This time, with Slither cowed, it was time to begin again. Ion would ensure he was a free man even if he had to drag Slither kicking and screaming to it.

They began again. The detective asking for Slither’s account. He also showed that Ion was getting under his skin. Attention was directed at Ion to try and make it work for him. ”Detective, inquiring into the events is not badgering. Attempting to antagonize my client by mocking him for not knowing the sexual identification of the arresting officer when he happened to have been blacked out is. And if you feel you need to recuse yourself because you have lost your objectivity we can wait. What is a few hours if it means we have an officer who is interested in the truth more than seeing their version of the truth.” Said Ion calling the detective’s bluff. He knew that they had a narrow window to act, an arraignment would have to be within three days of the arrest. He also knew this detective was their best, if he had any hope of seeing Slither pay it meant Jorge had to be the detective.

Ion threw a bone. ”I believe you can control yourself detective. I don’t want you to have to find another officer. It won’t look good for you.” He laid his hands on the table. ”I just want to see that the law is followed in handling my client. As long as that is done it can be as if I am not here.” He turned to Slither. ”Go ahead and answer.”

Slither looked to Ion then to Jorge and spoke.

“We got into an argument, me and my girl, nothing to serious. I left to go get a bottle so I’s could calm down. I saw that guy Thompson as I was leaving. I went down to the liquor store and got a bottle, I cracked it open and drank in the parking lot. Then yous guys came and picked me up and brought me here. I didn’t do nothin’.”

Jorge wasn’t pleased. But he didn’t have to be pleased to do his job. He didn’t like that this lawyer, Faraday was here, and he didn’t like that he was poking holes in an investigation that would have put a dangerous criminal away. Slither had a record as tall as a skyscraper, and this experienced attorney was going to find a way to get him out. Jorge hoped that forensics could get the evidence processed in time so that they could put the last nail in this coffin but the legal representation was experienced; he had to already be working on a way around it.

After he had returned, Jorge let his displeasure seep through his voice as he inquired after the real events that had occurred. Slither had left some rather interesting tidbits out of his story, tidbits that were far too convenient for Jorge’s liking. But, alas, the man would entertain him for the time being as it was his job to collect all sides of the story.

Besides, there was still a chance that Slither could mess this up. He wasn’t the sharpest nail in the toolkit, after all. Maybe something in his story wouldn’t add up.

So he asked – as long as that was okay with his lawyer. Jorge had played up the fact that he could get another police officer to take the statement, that is if he himself bothered Faraday too much. The lawyer unflappable, as always…

>> ”I believe you can control yourself detective. I don’t want you to have to find another officer. It won’t look good for you. I just want to see that the law is followed in handling my client. As long as that is done it can be as if I am not here.”

Jorge nodded. There wasn’t anything else he needed to say so he simply brought over his pad, pen in hand, and returned his hardened gaze to the criminal before him.

>>”Go ahead and answer.”

>> “We got into an argument, me and my girl, nothing to serious. I left to go get a bottle so I’s could calm down. I saw that guy Thompson as I was leaving. I went down to the liquor store and got a bottle, I cracked it open and drank in the parking lot. Then yous guys came and picked me up and brought me here. I didn’t do nothin’.”

Jorge was made of stone as he listened to Slither profess his evidence. The fact was that Slither had mentioned nothing about this Thompson before. He may have been intoxicated, but if he were remembering him with such clarity now, certainly that would have been something he had stated when he sobered up. Again, it didn’t add up for Jorge but the man knew he would have to look into all aspects of this. So, with look, Jorge eyed the man closely, for a moment before he jotted down another note.

”Can you elaborate which liquor store you went to? How did you pay? When you were picked up, you didn’t have your wallet on you,” he said, a little twirl of his pen. ”As a matter of fact, that was found back at your girl’s house.”

Slither sneered, looking a bit nervous. The hard stare of the detective was a bit harsher than the man had expected. He had been hoping his new attorney friend would just make all this go away and he could get out of here. He was tired, irritable, had clearly spent hours here, most of which were not spent talking as he stubbornly refused to say anything. Now what leg did he have to stand on?

The mutant shrugged. “D-Diamond Star Liquor Mart…” He said with clear uncertainly. He was making a story up on the fly. “Friend works there. Hooked me up.” He wasn’t even touching why his wallet was back at the murder victims house.

”I see…” Jorge said. Another note. ”Friend’s name?”

“Umm…” Slither was panicking. He almost said the name Faraday, just because that was literally the only name he could think up at the moment. As a matter of fact, he got the “Fa--“ out before he stopped himself.

Jorge patiently waited before he gave the man a small, sympathetic smile. ”First name? Last name? Nick name?” He interjected. ”Please. Take your time,” he assured, but inside the only thing he could think was, I got a book of names to look through if you need help…

The detective asked for specifics. What liquor store did he go to and how did he pay since he left his wallet behind. Diamond Star Liquor mart, and a friend of his works there. That was something Ion could work with. As long as Slither didn’t say the wrong thing he could work with it.

The problem with the legal system was it didn’t matter what people said. People’s words were from memories. Human memory was flawed at best and made witness testimony all but irrelevant. This meant paper was king. Documentation was taken as gospel. Documentation could be fabricated.

Ion could produce what Slither was stating in paper. He could create a person and have them have worked at the liquor store. The legal system just assumed that lawyers were on the up and up.When lawyers and their firms threw their money behind falsehoods it could do terrible terrible things.

The detective asked for a name, and slither fumbled. He gave a sound and stopped. The detective pressed. Slither looked to Ion for help. Ion covered for him.

”It’s okay to answer that one. Faris would not be in trouble for helping you.” Ion said before continuing so to not give Slither a chance to speak. He addressed the detective, ”Faris Levinski. He and Mr. Thibodeau have been friends for a few years.”

A mental note of everything he was saying. Find some bum, coach him, fabricate the documents, and create Faris Levinski. If necessary even do away with him.

Slither was slipping up. Jorge bore holes into him with his scrutinizing stare. He had all the demeanor of a man who didn’t care for the person he was dealing with, however his reputation and his air was that of a man wasn’t prejudice – he just didn’t like scum. All the evidence was already pointing in the mutant’s way, no matter what the lawyer was saying. Even if someone else was involved in the death of Slither’s ex, it didn’t change up the fact that Slither’s story was absolutely full of holes.

He was a liar and all he needed was for him to catch him in one of those lies. Of course that was proving to be increasingly difficult with Faraday in the room. The lawyer was slick as snot and twice as disgusting. The man didn’t want justice, only to ensure that his client got off the hook. However he was clearly a skilled lawyer so Jorge needed to play this carefully.

He waited for Slither to come up with a name, any name really. Judging from how hard the mutant was trying to come up with it, it was clear that he was trying to make something up on the spot. When he finally did start to come up with one, Jorge’s hand drifted over his notepad, writing down the “F” is cursive and starting on the “A” which looked suspiciously like a “U” but hey, his cursive wasn’t always pretty. But as Slither stumbled across the rest of the name, Jorge lifted his gaze to him.

>>”It’s okay to answer that one. Faris would not be in trouble for helping you… Faris Levinski. He and Mr. Thibodeau have been friends for a few years.”

Gaze drifting over to the lawyer, Jorge eyed him for a beat before he drifted down and jotted out the rest of the name. He then shared a pleasant smile with the lawyer. ”Interesting how you know that,” Jorge said, speaking directly to the lawyer now. ”especially considering from the second you walked in Mr. Thibodeau here had no idea who you were.”

“Nu uh! I’ve know him! For at least fifteen years!” Slither suddenly interjected.

Jorge turned back. The mutant with a kind smile. ”Fifteen years. Impressive. You’re…” he glanced at Slither’s file. ”Twenty-five. So since you were ten years old.” He turned back to Faraday. ”Bet you both never thought you’d be in this situation on the playground, right?”