The Interrogation

Interrogator: Special Agent Derek Morgan

Interviewee: Nate Milliken

Date: 12/10/2014

Entry Time: 08:43:77 AM


Derek: How old are you?

Nate: Eighteen. Thought detectives could read.

Derek: Yes, we can. We just are having a hard time believing that the driver's license we found in your pocket is genuine.

Nate: Huh, are you?

Derek: (spreads crime scene photographs before Nate) Recognize these images?

Nate: Not quite. Which websites?

Derek: These are the photographs of the women you and you buddies murdered.

Nate: Man! You're accusing me of all this crap?

Derek: What do you think am doing?

Nate: I did none of this, man!

Derek: Prove it. Where were you on the sixth and tenth of this month?

Nate: I was busy at work.

Derek: Really? What work are you up to, Nate?

Nate: I sell stuff…you know, meds. But nothing illegal. Just the stuff you have a hard time buying in bulk.

Derek: Like what?

Nate: You know, tobacco and stuff.

Derek: Where do you stay?

Nate: (laughs) You have nothing to hold against me, do you?

Derek: Where do you stay? Different residents occupy the address we found on your DL.

Nate: Yes, it is. I used to live there about five months ago before that stinkin' thrash can of a landlord went sober. Whoop! Am out on the street.

Derek: So where are you living ever since?

Nate: On the street. My business has only been bloomin' from the time I lost the roof over my head. Marketing has become ever so easy.

Derek: So what were you doing with Mrs. Manes last night?

Nate: Who's that?

Derek: The woman you were on the street with last night.

Nate: Oh, that skank? She wanted my products. You see, that's what I mean by a bloomin' business. It's the big hats that have started buying my products. They just love working incognito. I don't give a shit, as long as the bucks are flowing in and my nights are spent in yet another motel with yet another dancer.

Derek: You're lying!

Nate: No man! I'm not. Ask her. She's a regular.

Derek: Do you know where these women were found dead?

Nate: Uh, no.

Derek: They were found in one of the alley-ways just like the one you were directing Mrs. Manes in. What were you planning to do with her, huh?

Nate: I already told you, business! This is crazy. Let me out of here! You have nothing to charge me in.

Derek: I don't think so.

Nate: Have you got any proof against me, agent?

Derek: We don't believe in physical evidence, Nate.

Nate: Ah! Fantastic! You've got a magic lamp then that directs you to random strangers whom you accuse of for particularly nothing? This is a waste of time.

Derek: We notice behavior. And you aren't doing a very good job proving yourself innocent.

Nate: …What are you talking 'bout?

Derek: For starters, you haven't called for a lawyer. This tells me that you're confident that your tracks are covered. You believe your plan is foolproof and sooner than later you'd be with your little buddies whom you're not talking about.

Nate: This is ridiculous…I need a la-

Derek: Secondly, the crime scene photographs are having no effect on you.

Nate: Wha...what do you mean?

Derek: I mean, you aren't grossed out or disgusted about the contents of the photographs. An innocent person would have been petrified by now.

Nate: I…I have watched a lot of gore stuff online. This isn't really anything.

Derek: And lastly, you are taking enough time answering every question. If I put you through a lie detector and your mind will tell me things you wish you'd forgotten.

Nate: You cannot put me through a lie detector without my written consent! I need a lawyer! Stop this nonsense!

Derek: Com'on kid. It's too late, to even call for a lawyer.

Nate: …

Derek: …

Nate: (laughs)

Derek: What are you laughing about?

Nate: You're right agent! It is too late. You haven't charged me with anything. You possible have no non-hypothetical proof against me and since I am a major, you can't hold me back for more than seventy-two hours!

Derek: Look, my man, this isn't about you. You don't have to protect Katherine and Matt! We know what happened with you and I understand that it all seems crazy. When Ryan helped you three escape, he gave you a new life. But that is not right!

Nate: I don't know any Ryan, agent. I want a lawyer! Somebody help me! I NEED A LAWYER.

Derek: (sighs and gets up to leave) You won't get away with this, kid.

Nate: (grins) Don't waste any more time. Kidding me should be the last thing on your mind now.

Derek: Right.

Nate: What's the time, agent?

Derek: It's nine fifteen.

Nate: ...


Exit Time: 09:15:16 AM


A/N: So I have attempted a different form of writing here. Does it make sense or is it an utter flop?

Anyway, song of the fic,

Lady Gaga : Poker Face

Youtube link to the song youtubeDOTcom/watch?v=yODa2bifHs0