chapter word count: 604

noir heart: one hundred and six

Well, fate's a comedian; the interview room he's been put in is the exact same one in which he questioned Elsa Black. The temperature is distractingly cold, it's clinically clean, and he's the one on the other side of the table. The one under the magnifying glass. The suspect. The one advantage he has over his step-brother, who is and has been perusing through the folder of his life for the past half hour, is that Jack adores the cold. Flourishes in it. Keeps him sharp. Hans, on the other hand, hated it.

Still, Jack can't decide if he'd either tip Fate for its hilarious stand-up routine, or punch it in the teeth. Sat in a position of folded arms and slightly parted legs, glaring fire at the irritatingly slow I.A. detective opposite, he knows he's displaying all the body language showing dishonesty and obfuscation but considering his entire thought process is "go to hell, Hans", that's what his body is screaming.

Hans gently and elegantly closes the folder, entwines his fingers together and exhales loudly through his nose as he fixes Jack with a searching look. "Sorry. Engaging read."

Jack remains silent.

Uttering a 'hm', Hans briefly looks down to feather his fingers over the folder, and there's the scrape of paper on metal as the folder is slid well away. "So, to business." Pulling out a notepad and pen from inside his suit jacket, Hans unblinkingly stares at Jack as he flicks it open and clicks the pen. "Detective Jack Frost, this is a continuance of the investigation into the circumstances surrounding the death of Detective Arnulf Southernisle."

Jack scoffs impatiently. "The third interview, you mean."

Hans' lips curl ever so slightly. "As you were the only witness to the...accident...the purpose of this interview is to-

Jack interrupts sharply. "Cut the bullshit, Hans. You wanna know if I did it."

"-is to ascertain what you did or did not see, and whether you were simply a witness to an unfortunate accident...or a suspect in a murder," Hans finishes, unfettered by the interruption.

Eyes of blue roll derisively. "Like I said."

Hans continues in that smooth, deceitful voice that makes Jack want to feed him the notepad. "So, I would like to know the nature of your connection to Detective Southernisle. Tell me - when did you first encounter the deceased?"

"You were there. You already know." Flashes of Macbeth, of empty seats, of disappointment and anguish flood his mind. His fists clench, and his teeth try to force each other through bone.

"Detective Frost, please answer the question."

Jack studies him for a moment. This damn interview has been conducted way too many times before, and he's getting tired of the same old bullshit. On the other hand, this is the first time Hans has conducted the interview...so Jack wonders if it's worth playing along. He might even learn something. "Fine." Jack scoots the chair forward and rests his hands on the table, and the memory of Elsa sitting exactly the same floats to his mind. "I first encountered Arnulf when he was a beat cop. He was the one to break the news of that that junkie did to my family.

Hans makes a sound of acknowledgement, and proceeds to make a note. "You are referring to the carjacking in which your mother, father and sister were killed by a drug addict?"

Jack's eyes darken, and his pulse quickens that little bit. "Yeah. The night he decided I was gonna be an orphan."

Oninoko should buy a lottery ticket.

special thanks to: doomstone, jpbake, chiqanti ceres, oninoko and stefalove for the reviews!