Indeed, the night had not been very good. Still, David didn't feel drained. On the contrary, he was still waiting for the guards to storm into his cell to pick him up.

But nothing like that happened. He and Tucker went to the canteen for breakfast as normal. There were a few more guards around them, but nothing else happened.

Antonio was missing, of course. His group was sitting with their heads between their shoulders at a table a little further away from David and Tucker. They seemed to have heard the news already.

"Where's Antonio?" Tucker finally asked softly, leaning over the table to catch David's attention. But he just kept staring in the direction of the now leaderless group. Tucker thought he and Antonio had banged hard yesterday. David had kept the truth a secret.

"Haven't you heard it yet?" came a voice from one of Tucker’s work colleagues. David had seen him a few times before. He also packed colorants. He was one of the good guys here. "He is dead."

"Shit," Tucker breathed, and looked at David immediately. "Did you know that?"

But David said nothing. He wasn't sure yet how James had managed to keep them both out of this disaster. And as long as he couldn't say for sure that he was off the hook, he had to lie. Or just say nothing.

"How did it happen?" Tucker asked when he got no response from David. He turned completely to his colleague, who played with his fork in his mashed potatoes.

“They found him and two of his bodyguards in the trash. The bodies were completely dismembered. You hardly recognized who it should have been.”

David's breath caught. His heart stopped for a second.

"Oh fuck," Tucker said. Yes, David would have said something like that too. His roommate asked in a much quieter voice: "Candy?"

"One hundred per cent," grumbled another guy sitting across from Tucker's colleagues. "Surely he didn't like the fact that someone put his fingers on his new object of desire."

He looked intently in David's direction. Tucker also looked at him.

"Shit," his buddy stuttered. "What if I get caught next?"

David couldn't rule it out. But not really confirm either. Because there was definitely no Shawn Candy behind the murder. Only James and he.

Clever from James to make it look like a murder by Candy. However, he was not really comfortable with it. The dismemberment really wasn’t necessary.

"You're just my cellmate, Tucker," David said calmly. "I don't think he'll kill you just because you share a room with me."

"Oh man," whispered the colleague. “Better watch out that he doesn't take you to block C. As soon as you put your foot in there, you're dead.”

"Oh, that doesn’t mean shit," the other guy said again. “Candy has eyes and ears everywhere. It doesn't matter whether you sit here or over there.”

The discussion about where it would be worst for David then continued for a few minutes. He just wanted to talk to James himself. Ask him what he was thinking. And paradoxically thank him again.

But before he could go to the direction of block C in his free time in the morning - even if the guards would not have let him in - he was stopped in the hall by a woman in all white. She was not a doctor - her costume was more like a gala dinner one. She was accompanied by two armed police officers.

That’s it, David thought and stopped terrified.

"Mr. Hamsfield," the pretty blonde said, clasping her hands in front of her lap. "May I ask you to follow me?"

David nodded silently and was escorted by the two guards. He didn't dare to ask why he was taken away. After all, it was obvious why.

He was led back into the administration. There he was left in front of the prison director's office. Robert Hook read David on the small sign next to the door. Suddenly he felt like he was back in school, where he was often detained because he had beaten up someone. But this time it was about murder.

"You can come in now," announced the blonde, holding the door open for David. The two guards followed every step of the way.

"Mr. Hamsfield,” a middle-aged man wearing glasses greeted. "So nice of you that you have time for me."

Unnecessary courtesy. As if he had another choice. But the illusion sustained as if the inmates were normal people. With rights. Even if everyone here was just shitting on them.

"I'm Robert Hook, I'm running this facility if you didn't know that," the man said, holding out his hand to David. Only now did he realize that he hadn't been handcuffed. So, wasn't he a threat?

After a moment's hesitation, David shook Mr. Hook's hand but said nothing.

"I'm sure you're wondering why you're here," the director of the prison said, went to his large leather chair that was behind an equally large desk and sat down. With a wave of his hand, David was asked to sit down too. He usually preferred to stand, but if two machine guns were aimed at him, he would also like to sit down occasionally.

“As you may have noticed, we had to make losses again. Really sad,” Mr. Hook said in a mock dramatic voice. “Three bodies were found in the dumpsters behind the kitchen at dawn today. They were hugely disfigured, but we could figure out who they were.”

Mr. Hook rummaged through several files on his desk. David could not decipher anything, but neither did he dare to look at the papers more conspicuously.

“Among them was Antonio Perez. He was something like," the man gestured with his hand and pushed his glasses down his nose, "a leader? Let's say he had gathered a few inmates who have served him faithfully. Two of these men were in the same container.”

Mr. Hook's carelessness made David angry. He didn't make a face, but inside he felt the urge to tell this guy off.

"We have heard that you, Mr. Hamsfield, were the last to be seen with Mr. Perez," said Mr. Hook, smiling suddenly smugly. "We just wanted to ask you what exactly happened last night and where you were afterwards."

David kept a neutral expression. Either the leader knew exactly that David was to blame for Antonio's death and played with him. Or he really didn't know anything. Too bad that David had no way to communicate with James. What if he had already interrogated him? And their stories didn't match?

“You are suspected, Mr. Hamsfield, but as you can see, you are not yet in a solitary cell. I just want to ask you what happened and where you were at the time of the crime. I know my prison and I know that people like to meet for a chat in between. That doesn’t mean anyone has to be killed yet.”

David's stomach ached from the way he put the word chat. It sounded like 'I know that you all fuck each other wildly, but I don't care'.

David meanwhile opted for the middle ground: half a lie, half-truth.

"I was going to meet Antonio," David said calmly, looking deeply into Mr. Hook's eyes. Such intense eye contact made many people look away. It exuded dominance. But the director probably knew these games and stared back just as intensely. "We went to the shower."

"You knew that showering was actually forbidden at such a time?" Mr. Hook asked, raising both eyebrows. So high that they almost reached his hairline. The little glasses slid down further.

"Yes," David admitted, putting his somewhat cold hands under his thighs. “Antonio wanted us to take a shower together. He said several times that he wanted me to be his whore.”

For a brief moment there was an uncomfortable silence in the room. "And you allowed that?" the man asked, looking intense over his glasses.

"What else was there to do?" David shrugged, trying to sound casual. “Either I would submit or he would force me. You don't usually have many options here."

Mr. Hook said nothing, just nodded. “So you accepted your fate. And then?"

"We fucked hard in the shower," David said as directly as he could. Intimacy also deterred many people. But again, he had forgotten who he was talking to. Mr. Hook didn't make a face, just kept staring at David.

Before David could get caught up in strange formulations, a small change in the air became noticeable. With a smooth wave of his hand, Mr. Hook removed his glasses from his nose and put them on the documents. "You know that such activities are strictly prohibited?"

"Yes," David nodded, and felt Mr. Hook's eyes go over his chest. Then to his stomach. And eventually, to his crotch, where his eyes stuck.

"And yet you had intercourse with Mr. Perez," he said, finally getting up. His glasses stayed on the desk. He crossed his arms behind his back and looked down. "You say you accepted your fate, but maybe you changed your mind in the shower?"

"I was alone, Mr. Hook," David said, looking up at the director. “Antonio was there with his two bodyguards. How - in your opinion - should I have managed three men?"

Mr. Hook smiled. "I can't tell you that either." He sat next to David on his desk. "That's why I think you had help."

An icy cold spread through the room, while David's interior literally burned. "I see," muttered David, bowing his head.

Mr. Hook's foot suddenly stroked David's shin. Slowly and probably not visible to the other people in the room. The gesture was certainly not accidental. The tender touch continued for a few seconds. David tried to pretend he didn't notice.

“You're not very good at defending yourself, are you? Neither verbal nor physical,” Mr. Hook concluded in a calm voice, smiling smugly at David. He gave David a few seconds to find an answer. However, when nothing happened, Mr. Hook sighed and left David's proximity. He went around his desk again, took his glasses and put them back on as he dropped onto his leather armchair. He dug out a few pieces of paper and wrote something in illegible handwriting. “Your room neighbour said this morning that you were back in your cell after about 25 minutes. With a pale face and tears in your eyes.”

David pressed his lips together. The tears had been an outright lie, but Tucker had probably only tried to portray the situation accordingly.

"Killing three people, dismembering them and throwing them into a container in 20 minutes is very sporty," Mr. Hook said, and finally leaned back in his chair. “Your cellmate said he stayed with you then. All night. A guard can indeed confirm this.”

"You," David began softly, raising his eyebrows, "are you giving me my own alibi?"

"I wanted to see what kind of a person you are." Then he sighed again, as if he had been extremely disappointed, and indicated to his blonde secretary that she could take David out of his sight. “You're not a cold-blooded killer, anyway. On the contrary, you even seem a bit stupid to me. I don't mean it badly, take it as a compliment.”

Unfortunately, that was very difficult for David.

“If you hear or see anything else about the case, I want you to let me know. I also want you to report back to me if you can think of anything else that could help the investigation.”