"You can't do this!"
"I want a lawyer, I want to protest!"
In the interrogation room, as the door shut and the overhead surveillance camera showed no evident flash, the middle-aged man uneasily struggled to speak.
Thump, thump, thump~
Brian rapped on the table, "Because of you, all of us are working overtime. You understand what I mean, Mr. Maggsi!"
Maggsi was the current owner of the property where eight corpses had been found.
He appeared to be of mixed heritage, with fair skin typical of Caucasians, a well-formed face, wearing somewhat outdated glasses and a shabby suit, exuding the aura of a destitute scholar.
Maggsi had worked at an employment agency, and all eight victims had submitted their resumes to that agency before Maggsi left the job.
The only problem was that on the surface, Maggsi had not yet rented that particular house before the victims had died.
There must have been some story hidden in between.
Maggsi was somewhat helpless.
