"Coffee? Soda?"

"Just water."

Michael confirmed, "Anything else?"

The wall clock ticked. It was 7:30 P.M.

Preston observed as Big Ted squirmed in his chair. The man's filthy, long nails were poking holes in the fabric of his grey shirt. He wasn't wearing a cap today. Thinning black hair. Unkempt. Rough. His sharp jawline was glistening with visible sweat, and his Adam's apple seemed to protrude more from his tall neck. They were all seated in the interview room at the police station, with a black chipped metallic table in the middle. Big Ted was sitting opposite them.

"I'll have soda instead, maybe some buns. Not too much trouble, is it?" Big Ted tugged at his shirt collar, unbuttoning the first two buttons.

"Sure, not a problem. I'll find them for you down the hallway, but first, we want to know why you lied to us?"

The temperature in the interrogation room had been set to almost 90 degrees Fahrenheit, enough to cause heat cramps and exhaustion. This was one of the many tactics used in interrogations to disarm a suspect and make them uncomfortable. Both Preston and Michael had grown accustomed to the high temperature.

"It wasn't my mistake. You were asking the wrong question," came Big Ted's quick response. Preston caught the central accent and imagined him to be from Muranga County.

"What was the right question?" Michael asked.

Big Ted looked around the room and said, "Is it too hot? Or is it just me?"

After discovering that Big Ted was the same person they had spoken to at the Auto Shop Outlet, they didn't immediately arrest him. Instead, they went back to the station to make some calls, consult with Inspector Fredrick Nyanchama, and issue both a search warrant and an arrest warrant. The search warrant wasn't just for the shop, but also for Big Ted's house at Pipeline, North of Kware.

By the time they finished the paperwork, a few officers had already been dispatched to his house. At around 6 PM, Preston and Michael arrived at the shop.

"What was the right question?" Michael repeated.

"You should have asked if I knew Diane Rucho," Big Ted said.

"But we didn't," replied Preston.

"Typical," Big Ted responded. "Not seeing what's right in front of you."

Preston asked, "Was this the case with Diane?"

There was silence, a few fidgets, then a click of the tongue.

"I had nothing to do with her murder."

"Then why did you lie to us?" asked Preston.

"You think I don't know what usually happens? The boyfriend or husband is always blamed for the murder. You all overlook many things. I knew the police would come to me eventually."

"So you were prepared?" Preston questioned.

"I didn't say that."

"Sounded like you were prepared."

Another click of the tongue. Fisted hands. Red eyes. "I had nothing to do with her murder."

Preston leaned forward and asked, "How was your relationship with Diane?"

"It was great," Big Ted replied.

"Just great?" Preston probed.

"We had our good moments and enjoyed each other's company. She loved me despite my addiction."

"Coke?" Preston asked.

"Nah, that was too expensive. I couldn't afford it," Big Ted clarified.

"So weed?" Preston guessed.

"Weed, alcohol, cigarettes. I wasn't always at my best, but she was always there for me."

"What about the bad moments?" asked Preston.

"We weren't perfect. We fought sometimes," Big Ted admitted.

Suddenly realizing his mistake, he quickly added, "I meant we were not always on good terms. The usual struggles in the relationship."

"Did you ever hit her when you fought?" Michael interjected.

Big Ted burst out laughing. "What? No. Look, I might have been a drug addict back then, but I was never violent with Diane."

"Did you know of Diane's past?"

"Yes. I knew. She told me about it just when we started dating. Her father tried to take advantage of her and she did what anyone would do in her situation. Defend herself."

"Did you look at her differently?"

The same loud laugh came back again."If you are trying to guilt me into saying something incriminating, sorry to disappoint. It won't work."

Preston was aware of Big Ted's big shoulders and wide frame and knew he had the physical ability to be violent towards a woman.

"You were spotted with Diane Rucho on the same night she was admitted to the hospital due to assault injuries."

"Yes, I did meet Diane at the restaurant that night. But I left her there. We didn't go home together. She told me that she had to finish her shift."

"The staff informed us that Diane never returned inside the restaurant. That was the last time anyone saw her."

"As I mentioned earlier, I left her at the restaurant, and she was fine when I left. You think I am responsible for her injuries?"

"You tell us?" Michael replied.

"This is absurd. I had no motive to harm my girlfriend. I loved her," Big Ted said, upper lip pulled into a sneer.

"Can you tell us where you were on the night Diane was killed?" asked Preston.

"I was at home with my father."

"Was anyone else with you that night?"

"No, it was just the two of us," replied Big Ted.

"We need someone to corroborate your alibi."

"In that case, you will have to take my word for it. Unless you can speak to ghosts," Big Ted said with a wry smile.

Preston asked, "Do you own a gun?"

"No."

"Have you ever fired a gun?"

"No."

"Do you sell car paints at the Auto Shop?"

"Where is this heading to?"

"Yes or no?"

"Yes."

"What brands?"

"Nexa, Crown and Basf."

"Do you apply car paint to some of your clients' cars?"

"Yes. It's a basic after-service. Why do you ask?"

Preston sat up in his chair, feeling the cold metal seep into his bones. "Traces of paint were identified from the samples taken from the crime scene."

Big Ted raised his hand and massaged his forehead. "This doesn't make sense. I wasn't at her house that night. The paint could have been from other days that I had been there. You can't use that to accuse me of everything."

"Why not?"

"It's not reliable."

"Nobody would see it that way. An addicted boyfriend visits Diane at her workplace at night, and hours later Diane is hospitalized with visible assault injuries. The following night, Diane is discovered dead with traces of paint at the crime scene. Do you believe any jury would think that you were not involved in the murder?"

"I want a lawyer."

After Big Ted refused to talk, Preston and Michael left the interrogation room. A few minutes later, Preston got a call from a new number.

"Hello," he answered. "Who's this?"

"Officer," a woman's voice said.

Preston immediately recognized the caller. "Emma Ruto?"

It was the Chief of Staff at Amara Restaurant.

There was a brief pause before the voice spoke up again. "Officer, can we meet? There's something I want to show you."