A37 – THE INTERROGATION OF SUSPECT THREE IN THE FAZBEAR MURDERS

[Peterson stares down Kate Hudson, who looks nervously back at her, evidently confused as to why she's here.] "You haven't been honest with me, Hudson. That seems to be a pattern in this case – people lying to me."

"I thought I was cleared, Detective." [She tugs anxiously at the neck of her sweatshirt.] "Is there something more you need from me?"

"Did you tell anyone how the doors of the restaurant worked? How the power worked?"

"I don't know what you mean –"

"Tell me, Hudson. Did you give someone a key? Did you show them how to get into the security office? Either you tell me honestly or I'll keep you here overnight and make you tell me absolutely everything you've done over the past two months, with nothing left out. And trust me when I say that neither of us want that."

[She bites her lip.] "Detective, I need to ask you something."

"Okay."

"If I tell you something – if I'm honest, and I tell you that maybe it involves me doing a minor crime, nothing major, but still a crime… will you arrest me? Will I get in trouble?"

"I'll make you a deal. If you're straight with me, nothing you say will leave this room unless it's directly relevant to the case. I only want to know who you've been talking to, not why. You're more valuable to me as a talking witness than a miserable jailbird."

"Okay." [She takes a slow breath.] "You know I'm at a tough college."

"Yes, we've established that."

"Well, sometimes, before tests, I… I get some… help."

[Peterson frowns.] "What kind of help?"

"I, uh… I take some things…"

"Ah." [Peterson sighs, understanding.] "Adderall."

"Adderall." [She looks at the detective sheepishly.] "I… I have a dealer. He gets me the drugs for my exams, I pay him, we say nothing. We've had an arrangement for a couple months now."

"What's your dealer's name?"

"Ben Quincey." [She winces.] "I – I think maybe his brother is the one who –"

"Shit." [Peterson writes rapidly on her notepad.] "So his joke about drugs was real. Tell me, Hudson, tell me honestly – were you at the restaurant on the night of December 13th, when he came to supposedly pick up Jason's wallet?"

"Yes, I was there. He didn't pick up the wallet, he stole it and made Jason think he lost it, so we could have a cover story and he could get a key. I met him at the restaurant two hours before I was supposed to come for work – he showed me a back entrance where there were no cameras."

"Hudson, you might have just solved this case for me. But go on."

"We met there, I paid him, he gave me my drugs. Then I figured we would leave – truth be told, I was confused why he wanted to meet there in the first place – but he grabbed my arm and told me he wanted me to do one more thing for him. He made me swear not to tell anyone. Threatened to expose my drug habit if I didn't do what he said."

"What did you do?"

"He made me show him how the doors and cameras worked."

"Oh, fuck." [Peterson closes her eyes as it all clicks together.] "Kate, why didn't you say any of this before?"

"You know why! I didn't want anyone to know I do speed. I have grant money, I have a research position – what would my boss say, my professors? What would my parents say? They'd disown me."

"You're lucky I keep my promises. We'll talk about your habit later. What happened next?"

"I left out the back entrance. He went out the front way so the cameras would catch him, holding the wallet. He had it all planned out."

"I imagine he did." [Peterson is writing so fast her pen is in danger of breaking.] "So you took your drugs home to hide them, and then came back for work."

"Yes, that's right."

"Hudson, you've helped me more than you know." [She shuts the notebook and rises from the table.] "We'll be in touch. Don't leave town."

"Yes, Detective. I'll be around if you need me." [Hudson fidgets nervously.] "Just – just don't tell anyone about the drugs, okay?"

"I won't. You have my word. Call me later and we'll talk about it, okay? In exchange for me keeping your secret, you need to let me help you get off those drugs." [Peterson gathers up her supplies.] "But first I've got to find Eddie. We have a Quincey to visit – oh!" [The Czech interrogator has just entered the room.] "Good, it's you. Listen, Eddie needs to hear this. We need to talk to Ben Quincey right now –"

"Too late." [The man's face is grim.] "We have another problem on our hands."

G1 – ?

[A very old tape clicks into motion, and we hear a grainy voice, distorted by a synthesizer and impossible to identify. There is no picture yet, but the screen shivers as though expecting one to appear.]

"Hello, Jane Peterson."

[There is a slow, hoarse laugh.]

"Do you want to see what I've done?"

[He laughs louder.]

"You see, Quincey was just an appetizer. A little present I left for you. But tonight is when I start the real feast."

[He snickers.]

"I'm laughing, Detective Peterson, because I know something you don't."

[His voice takes on a cold, mocking edge.]

"Do you want to see it?"

[Slowly, the picture shivers into view.]

[It is a black-and-white security camera, the kind that a certain pizzeria once employed. It is focused on a shabby-looking room in an unknown location. And standing in the center of the camera is a man wearing a Freddy Fazbear mask and holding a knife in his hand, but even with his features concealed we know there is a mocking smile on his face.]

"Look what I've done, Detective."

[He steps back so the camera can see his two hostages, tied to folding chairs and struggling frantically. Karl Borsovich, badly beaten with a sock stuffed in his mouth; and Antonio Benedicto, with a black eye and a face covered in duct tape. There is murder in Borsovich's eyes as he fights madly against his restraints, but to no avail.]

[The masked man laughs coldly.]

"I've prepared a little game for you, Peterson."

[Antonio tries to shout, but it's muffled by the duct tape. The killer ignores him.]

"You get to pick my second kill. Which one will you choose?"

[He places the knife against Borsovich's throat, and the mechanic goes still, eyes wide in panic.]

"This one?"

[He moves it to Antonio's chin.]

"Or this one?"

[His smirk under the mask almost touches his ears.]

"You have one hour to choose. Or I'll kill them both. And where's the fun in that?"

[He snickers like a naughty child.]

"One hour, Jane Peterson. Choose wisely."

[The tape rolls to a stop.]

B24 – THE PERSONAL DIARY OF DETECTIVE PETERSON, LEAD INVESTIGATOR OF THE FAZBEAR MURDERS

[Jane sits with her face in her hands, motionless; she doesn't move, but we can almost see her mind reeling. Eddie sits beside her, his hand on her shoulder and dread in his eyes. Clearly neither of them expected the murderer to make such a drastic move. Chief Davidson is conversing frantically with the other officers as they try to analyze the footage, come up with a plan.]

"The tape arrived a few minutes ago." [Officer Ramirez drums his fingers on his desk.] "It had a phone number written on it, presumably for us to call with our choice. It also noted the time of arrival, 4:00 PM on the dot – somehow he knew exactly when it would get here. That means our hour started eight minutes ago. We have fifty-two minutes to find where that camera is and send a SWAT team to get them out of there. But where the hell do we start?"

"That room had almost no details." [Peterson looks up, recovering her resolve.] "Plaster walls, wooden floors. He chose it on purpose, so it'd be hard to find. It looked old, but that's hardly anything to go on. We could look for old buildings that had a connection to Fazbear murders –"

"What about the old pizzeria?" [Eddie frowns, the gears in his mind turning.] "The place you and I found Quincey. He obviously would have a connection to it, and if it's really Ben Quincey, he still has the master key to get in."

"But no rooms in the restaurant looked like that room. We toured the whole place, and didn't see anything like it. And the blueprints Jason gave us before he died didn't show any hidden areas."

"On the bright side, at least we know Borsovich and Antonio are innocent." [Officer Ramirez tries vainly to lighten the mood, and Peterson glares at him; he backpedals hastily.] "Sorry, sorry. Bad time for a joke."

[Eddie's brow knits as he considers their situation.] "We could call the number, and just keep him talking. Maybe we can get him to mess up and accidentally give us some information."

"Or we'll get him angry and he'll kill them both." [Peterson sighs.] "We'll use that as a last resort."

"I hate to be the asshole in the room." [Ramirez looks at Peterson meaningfully.] "But if we can't track them down, and we're down to the wire… we can flip a coin."

[Peterson gives him a scandalized look.] "I'm not gambling on human lives."

"Better one live, at least."

"And let the other be crippled by survivor's guilt? I don't think so."

[Ramirez relents.] "True."

"They might both be dead already, knowing this perp." [Eddie massages his forehead, sighing.] "I say we take our only chance and go back to the pizzeria with Jason's master key. We'll use the back entrance, so the killer doesn't spot us on the outside cameras. We'll try to find the hidden room before it's too late."

"Do we have time?" [Peterson looks at Ramirez, who taps his watch.]

"We've got forty-eight minutes now. It's a two-minute drive."

"It's our best shot." [Eddie nods.] "I say we go. Jane, are you coming?"

[Peterson deliberates for a moment, then sighs.] "Okay. It's our best shot. Let's get to the car and track this asshole down."

[They rush out of the station with keys in hand, Officer Ramirez following close behind them. The Chief watches them go, then looks at the other officers gravely.]

"God be with us tonight, gentlemen."