CHAPTER SIXTY - ONE - QUESTIONED FOR THE MURDER OF SEBASTIAN.

Mateo found himself sitting in a small, bare room at the police station. The walls were painted a cold, industrial gray, the only window covered with a heavy metal mesh that allowed in little natural light. The air was stale, tinged with the faint scent of disinfectant and perspiration. The room itself was devoid of any decoration, save for a single metal table in the center and two hard, uncomfortable chairs. Mateo sat on one of the chairs, his hands on the metal table in front of him. The ubiquitous one-way mirror, designed to allow officers to observe the interrogation without being seen, was situated on the wall in front of Mateo. Mateo shifted in his seat, his mind racing as he tried to piece together what had happened. How was he being questioned for the death of Don? He glanced at the wrist watch on his wrist and clenched his jaw tightly. He had no time to be here, right now. The video he had watched In Rafael's phone played in his head like a loop. As it playe