Pittsburgh Police Department, interrogation room.
The door was pushed open.
Leo Wallace walked in.
He waved to Police Chief Everett Carter, who was standing at the door.
"Turn off the surveillance cameras. No one is to come near this door without my permission."
Carter hesitated, but seeing the cold look in Leo's eyes, he nodded and left.
Only two people remained in the room.
Leo and Luigi Randall.
Luigi was sitting in an iron chair welded to the floor.
His hands were cuffed to an equally welded iron table, his wrists red and swollen from the constant friction.
He wore the same gray hoodie, the hood now down, revealing messy hair and a scholarly face.
He looked thin and pale, with deep, dark circles under his eyes.
But he didn't look like a newly arrested felon. His eyes were clear—one might even say, too calm.
