"So Mr. Fuschiotto, why were you in Mr. Cristante"s house on the day of the murder?"
Matteo took a deep sigh, staring at a crumb on the gray table in the interrogation room.
"I’ve already told your colleague ten minutes ago. May I know where my girlfriend is? How is she? I want to see her."
Matteo crossed his arms on his chest and challenged the detective with a furious look.
The young Detective Steve Lavoie bent over the table, placing an open hand on the photos of the poor corpse.
When he was a breath away from Matteo"s nose, he spoke.
"She"s in the next room and is more than safe, in here. Now I would like you to answer the question, again, if you grant me the honor."
"First I want to know why I can"t tell you how things are with her here too."
"The sooner you answer my
