LEWIS pulled out the chair across from Hale and sat down. He did not speak right away. He leaned back slightly, letting the silence stretch between them. Hale sat straight, his hands flat on the table, his face carefully blank. Lewis watched him without looking away.

“I want a lawyer,” Hale said. His voice stayed even with no edge to it.

Lewis did not answer. He let the words hang in the air for a moment. Then he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “You’ll get one. Not just yet.”

Hale held his stare but said nothing.

“You tried to leave the city with a false identity,” Lewis said. “That alone gives me enough to hold you.”

Hale blinked once. But that was all the reaction he gave.

Lewis tapped his fingers against the table a few times, then stilled his hand. “As a member of Greyhaven Central Hospital’s psych department, you have access to patient records. You know their schedules, where they go after their sessions, how to track them.”

Hale’s jaw tightened, and Lewis noticed.

“Five victims,” Lewis said, his voice low but steady. “All tied to Greyhaven. All of them easy to find if someone had the right access.”

Hale did not move. His hands stayed flat on the table.

Lewis pulled up his Terminal and turned the screen toward Hale. The receipt for the knife appeared. “We found this at a pawnshop we’ve been watching. The client ID matches you. You sold it yesterday.”

Hale’s eyes shifted to the screen. His face stayed still, but Lewis saw the slight tremor in his irises. He pressed his palms harder against the table.

“It’s a custom blade,” Lewis said, tapping the screen. “Modified. Not something you buy off the shelf. We picked it up before it could be processed. The lab confirmed it matches the wounds on all four victims. And the survivor.”

Hale’s breathing changed. His chest rose and fell faster now, especially after Lewis mentioned the word ‘survivor’.

Lewis kept going. “Anonymous calls. Public Terminals. Times that line up with your shifts at the hospital.”

Hale’s shoulders lifted slightly with each breath. His hands had started to shake.

“You planned it all,” Lewis said. “The victims. The timing. The weapon. You even made sure you would get paid for it after.” He nodded toward the screen. “That receipt is not just a record. It’s a sign of your claim. You expected to sell it once the job was done.”

Hale’s hands trembled openly now. He tried to press them flat again, but they would not stay still.

Lewis let the silence hold for a moment. Then he stood up and placed both hands on the table, leaning close.

“Four people are dead. One barely alive. And every step of this leads back to you.” Lewis’ voice rose. “You don’t get to sit there and pretend this is nothing. You don’t get to hide behind silence while people are cut open and left to die.”

Hale’s breath came faster. His chest moved with each sharp inhale.

Lewis slammed his palm down on the table. The sound cracked through the room.

“Look at it!” Lewis shouted, pointing at the screen now filled with images of the victims. “Look at what you did!”

Hale’s head snapped toward the screen. His whole body shook now. His hands curled into fists on the table, then opened, then closed again.

Lewis leaned in, his voice low and laced with controlled anger. “You had the weapon, the access, the timing. You even had motive, whatever twisted version of it you tell yourself.” He leaned in closer, his eyes locked on Hale’s. “So I will ask you once. And you will answer me.”

He stopped. Let the silence press down.

“Why?”

Hale’s breath broke. It came out ragged, uneven. His hands trembled against the table, his knuckles white.

Lewis did not move. “Say it. Why did you do it?”

Hale slammed both hands down on the table. The sound of it rang through the room.

“I did not kill them!” he shouted. His voice cracked. “I was framed!”

Lewis stared at Hale and almost laughed.

The man who had walked into the room with controlled calm was now gone. Hale’s shoulders were tight, his chest moving faster than before. His hands stayed on the table, but they would not keep still. What had been a slight tremor before was now obvious. Sweat ran down the side of his face from his temple. His eyes were not steady anymore. They moved around, unfocused for a moment, then locked back onto Lewis.

He had expected this. No one in Hale’s position would simply admit to being the killer, not when they still believed there was a way out.

“Framed?” Lewis said in a flat tone. “Okay. I’ll indulge you. Let me hear your explanation.”

Hale took a deep breath, like he was trying to steady himself before speaking.

“I collect antiques,” he started. “From Earth. Real ones, not replicas. They’re rare, and they cost more than I can afford.” He paused for a second. “I took loans. Not through legal channels. I’ve been paying them back every month.”

Lewis’ brows pulled together slightly. That matched the financial records. The steady transfers. The unknown account.

Hale went on. “Because of that, I got used to navigating places most people don’t go. The darknet. Black market listings. That’s where I look for pieces I can’t find anywhere else.” He swallowed once before continuing. “That’s where someone contacted me. They said they would pay me a large amount if I did something for them. At first, I refused. I didn’t know who they were or what they wanted. But then they added something else to the offer.” He hesitated for a moment. “An antique book from Earth. Part of a series I’ve been collecting. I have the rest, but that one is almost impossible to find.”

Lewis remained silent..

“I was tempted,” Hale admitted. “So I agreed.”

He exhaled slowly, his voice unsteady now. “They told me they would send me a device. A remote. All I had to do was go to a specific location, stand in a marked spot, and turn it on. After that, I had to leave and go to another place they gave me,” Hale said. “That second location was the abandoned apartment. When I got there, I saw a man on the ground and a knife beside him. I didn’t understand what was happening, but I picked it up without thinking. Then you showed up. I panicked and ran.”

He swallowed before continuing.

“I had already heard about the killings by then. I realized what that knife could be. I thought it was a waste to just get rid of it, so I decided to sell it and at least get something out of it.”

Lewis’ eyes narrowed a little. What Hale was saying now could explain some of what they had found. But that didn’t mean it was true.

“They sent me part of the payment upfront,” Hale added. “Said it was proof they were serious. I thought… if they will pay that much for something so simple, then it wasn’t a scam.” His hands tightened against the table. “I didn’t ask questions. I just did what they told me.”

There was a pause.

“I didn’t know it would turn into this,” Hale said, his voice rising slightly. “I didn’t know it would be used to frame me for murder.”

Lewis did not answer right away. His brows were furrowed, his face set hard. Part of him wanted to brush it off. The story fit too neatly, like something made up to put the blame somewhere else. But something about it did not sit right with him.

The anonymous calls. The strange detail Vargas mentioned about the cells. And now this.

His gut told him there might be something more.

“You can check my Terminal,” Hale said quickly, as if worried Lewis wouldn’t believe him. “I saved the messages in an encrypted folder. All of them. The conversation, the instructions, everything.”

Lewis opened his mouth to speak, but the door to the interrogation room opened. Both of them turned. A man in a suit stepped inside. He adjusted his cuff slightly before speaking.

“I’m Daniel Reyes, legal counsel for Mr. Hale,” the other said. “Detective, I believe my client has made his request clear. He will not be answering any further questions without me present.” He glanced at Hale, then back at Lewis. “From this point forward, any communication goes through me. If you have evidence, present it properly. If not, I suggest you proceed carefully.”

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