Detective Jacob Glen looked across from him at a very well dressed big man. His black pinstripe suit couldn't have cost less than ten thousand dollars, and the silk red shirt and black tie looked to be imported. He narrowed his eyes in thought. This Caucasian male reminded him of exactly why his African American relatives had worked so hard to begin with. Cain was living the American dream, and Jacob found himself slightly envious. But he respected him.

He thought to himself "how could such a fine, up standing looking man be accused of such a heinous crime?". It made the Detective a bit sad, especially thinking back to the gratuitous use of the N word by the big, stupid redneck. But all personal feelings aside, he had to question Cain.

He really didn't want to.

Cain's smile didn't fade as he looked back at the black man. It was a griendly, welcoming smile. Almost creepy, if you asked Detective Glenn. Cain knew what he'd done deep down, but like any smooth diplomat he knew how to manipulate his accusers. He asked the detective in a calm voice. "You needed to see me, Detective?"

Detective Glenn snapped out of his train of thought to answer Cain. "Ahem, yes sir. I have just a few questions concerning a certain event that took place. I was told that maybe you could shed some light on the incident."

"Oh?" Inquired the future Champion with a tilt of the head.

Cain had a long history of dealing with such things. This of course stems back to his time as a Roman Statesman slash Soldier. Back then, things were simpler for murderers. Humans weren't so sensitive to things that they are now. The laws governing killings were much different especially if it was warranted by the people.

Detective Glenn could hear the confusion in the voice of Cain, and it sounded like innocence. It was duly noted as he began to ask questions, as Cain hadn't resisted being taken in for questioning. Like some dumb shits do.

"Where were you on the night of January Fourteenth at around 12 am?"

"I was on a plane bound for here, where our next show was to take place. My daughter was with me, as well as about twelve of my coworkers. You can check out my alibi as you see fit, Detective. I've nothing to hide." Cain answered quite cooperatively and honestly. He definitely had been on a plane that night.

Detective Glenn sat there, notepad in hand as he listened, quickly taking down notes. He didn't smile at Cain, because right now he didn't need to show any weakness. But he noted the large man's calm demeanor as he sat there. Not a single nervous tick.

Cain had been killing so long that getting caught didn't concern him. God may know that "he was not his brother's keeper" was a cover up, but your average human is just as clueless as Peter Gilmour when it comes to pleasing his woman.

"Seems legit to me. Wednesday Warfare is coming live from from our Mexico city after all." he cleared his throat. There was still the photographic evidence. Though the man in the picture looked slightly different. The man in the picture wasn't really even that clear to begin with. "So before we continue, I feel obligated to let you know that you are under oath. If you lie to me now, then I will be forced to arrest you and you'll miss the show completely."

Cain nods his head and half smirks. He knows that if he forfeits, he loses. That means Peter's championship is as good as his. Cain is confident that he can kick Gilmour's ass. Call it a bad ass' intuition. "Oh, yes sir. I studied the laws when I became nationalized here in the states."

"Right. So right here, I have a photo that shows you in the room with the vic-"

"Victim of what, sir? No disrespect, I just didn't realize that we were investigating a murder." Cain smoothly pointed out.

Detective Glenn sighed and lowered his head. He felt badly about all this now. This sweet man was being a lot more respectful than the brash racist he'd encountered earlier. The one who'd actually convinced him that it was Cain. That mask like face looked nothing like Cain to be honest. "I'm deeply sorry Mister Cain. Yes, we are investigating the deaths of three citizens over in Dallas. We-"

Cain raised his hand.

"-Uhhh...yes?"

The confusion in Cain's eyes was quite evident by now. "-So if this homicide took place in Dallas, why are you questioning me here? I don't mean any harm but it just seems that Mexico being another country would make this out of your jurisdiction."

He'd have been right if it weren't for the fact that Detective Glenn was from the DPD. Conincidentally enough, he'd gotten quite irritated when they asked him to pursue the case. Here he was, spending his son'a birthday away from him.

Cain could see the tears in the eyes of the grizzled old cop, and by this he knew that the man's walls were cracking. Glenn knew he was in the wrong place, but he had a job to do. He was a man who needed to feed his family, what with his wife Glenda being disabled. She had to be a homebody to take care of their three kids.

He sighed. "Dammit. This doesn't even feel right."

"Oh?" he feigned interest and worry for the man's well being. The sincerity in his voice felt so real."What is wrong, detective?"

"Well, I'm missing my son's twelfth birthday right now and it's all because of some grainy pictures and tips from a mentally challenged racist. I should have just booked him and been done with it." he muttered under his breath. "Him and his nasty looking teeth."

Cain rolled his eyes. "Sounds like Dim to me, Detective. He's quite a nasty fu-" he stopped himself. "-man. You should see some of the things he's done at our shows. I mean, once he even got the Ku Klux Klan to beat down our Universal Champion."

Detective Glenn grimaced as he remembered seeing that footage. He knew that the matches were supposedly staged, but he also thought that everything Dim had done was in pretty bad taste. Not to mention the fact that Dim was hanging around with the worst presidential candidate of all time. "Ugh. He doesn't exactly keep good company either, does he?"

Cain shook his head and eyeballed the ashtray on the table. It was there because a lot of the suspects smoked. He looked back up at Detective Glenn, shaking his head. "No. Sir. He doesn't. He's hanging around with a xenophobic moron. He himself is a racist moron. You know what that equals, Detective Glenn? Come on. Say it with me."

"Hatecrime."

"Hatecrime."

"Exactly. If I were you, I'd take a second look at him. Maybe he was being hateful toward that innocent young girl because she was promiscuous. He did brag about being a "good Christian" I assume? He always does. Because he thinks that makes him better than good, hard working people like us."

The detective sat there in silence, going over every word that Cain had just said in his head. This man had been so cooperative and made so many good points that he couldn't help but believe him. What he'd said about Dim had been true, right down to a T. The man had been all "'Murica" and "God!" He'd had an arrogant aire about him, and Glenn hated that.

His blood boiling, he pulled out a pack of Kool Menthols from his brown blazer, and lit one up. He then offered Cain one. Cain, being a smoker wouldn't turn it down. "Thank you, Detective. Yeah-" He started as he puffed on the cigarette."-Dim still makes threats toward Trax as we speak. If anything, I'd watch him because this man is not only a racist but I've heard that he and Peter Gilmour are in collusion. I mean, who held the camera for him to take the pictures?" Cain pointed out the the camera had switched angles many times and no two angles were the same. Not like closed circuit security systems.

Detective Glenn pounded his fist on the table. "Goddammit, you're right! There's no way Gilmour isn't accomplice to this, is there?!"

"No doubt in my mind, Jacob." replied a calm and cool Cain. He snuffed out his cigarette and looked at the detective quizzically."Are there any further questions, Detective?"

Jacob Glenn had no further questions for Cain. The smooth and intelligent young man had convinced him that Dim had thrown him a red herring and that red herring came in the dorm of the fine, upstanding Cain. Glenn stood and shook Cain's hand. "No Mister Cain. No further questions. I am sorry to have wasted your time."

Cain smiled, and shook his head. "Oh no Detective Glenn. You're just doing your job." he reached out and patted the detective on the shoulder. "Go on home and spend some time with that family of your's."

The detective nodded his head. He knew that the concerned citizen before him was right, and his only thought was "I'm getting to old for this shit." As he and Cain parted ways, he wondered why Dim would waste his time with this harmless humanitarian? This amateur Sherlock Holmes?

Really Dim?

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