[The Usual Suspects]

Baltimore, Maryland

POLICE STATION

There was background chatter as a man was led down a dimly lit hallway in cuffs. In the bustling office, Peter Sheridan was in his cell, a mug of coffee in hand. "Under what names? Oh, yeah, those are my favorites so far. Possible IDs in three states that we know of."

He pulled a paper from the fax machine and stared at it. "I gotta call you back."

EXT. MOTEL

A SWAT team approached a motel room from the outside.

POLICE STATION

Sheridan entered an interrogation room and sat down. "Well, first I thought you were just stepping up your game. Credit card fraud, breaking and entering, and this one... puzzled me. Grave desecration. But still these are a long way from murder. Then we get fax from St. Louis. Where you're suspected of torturing and murdering a young woman. However, no one could probe anything, of course, because supposedly you died there."

EXT. MOTEL

The SWAT team broke open a second floor door with a battering ram. Inside, Sam and Shiloh stopped, holding their hands up.

POLICE STATION - FIRST INTERROGATION ROOM

"But I gotta tell you something. You look pretty healthy to me."

MOTEL

Diana Ballard advanced on Sam and Shiloh, her gun drawn.

POLICE STATION - FIRST INTERROGATION ROOM

"So now we know Karen Giles wasn't the first person you murdered."

MOTEL

"Going somewhere, Sam, Shiloh?" Ballard asked.

POLICE STATION - FIRST INTERROGATION ROOM

"But I guarantee you she's the last." He stood and walked out of Dean's room.

POLICE STATION - SECOND INTERROGATION ROOM

The policewoman entered another interrogation room, where Sam was pacing by the window. She placed two coffee cups on the table. "Thought you might be thirsty."

"No thanks," Shiloh said. "Um, why am I here? Shouldn't we be separated?"

"Okay, so you're the good cop," Sam said. "Where's the bad cop?"

"Oh, he's with your brother."

"Okay. And you're holding us why?" Shiloh asked.

"Well, he's being held on suspicion of murder. And you two, we'll see. We chose to interrogate you two together."

Sam and Shiloh leaned forward, shocked. "Murder?!"

"You two sound genuinely surprised. Or are you two that good of an actor?"

"Who was he supposed to have murdered?!" Sam cried.

"We'll get around to that."

"Well, you can't just hold us here without formal charges!"

"Well actually, we can, for 48 hours, but you being a pre-law student, would know that. I know all about you, Sam, Shiloh." She read from two files. "You're 23 years old, no job, no home address. Shiloh, you're 21 years old, no job, no home address. Sam, your mother died when you were a baby, your father's whereabouts are unknown. Shiloh, you left home at 15 and haven't talked to your parents since. No one seems to know their whereabouts. And then there's the case of your brother and friend Dean. Whose demise was, well, just a little bit exaggerated. Feel free to jump in whenever you two like." Sam leaned against the wall, folding his arms while Shiloh stood near the door. "Shy? No problem. I'll keep going. Your family moved around a lot when you were kids." She glanced at Shiloh. "You bounced from motel to motel after you left." She looked back at Sam. "Despite that, you were a straight-A student. Got into Stanford with a full ride." She turned to Shiloh. "You almost completed an art history degree at Cornell, University."

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