2.Wasn't me.

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Songs:
•Mount Everest- Labrinth
•Without me- Eminem

"I told you I didn't do it".

"Well then would you mind explaining to me why you were covered in blood when the police arrived."

Jane sighed and put her head in her hands. She was being held in an interrogation room and she had been there for the last 20 hours. She had told her story over and over again and no one seemed to believe her. She wasn't sure what the murderer was saying but by the looks of things, they thought Jane was guilty. Seven different members of the NYPD had come in and asked her the same questions. They weren't getting anywhere with either of the suspects and Jane was losing the will to live.

"I was trying to stop the bleeding."

The man in front of her ran his hand through what was left of his thin grey hair on the top of his head. He was stressed. Jane knew that they couldnt hold her for much longer and he was obviously under pressure from his superiors to solve this case.

"Look, you and I both know that you didn't do this but the man that was brought in has convinced the rest of the station that he's innocent."

Jane looked at the officer in front of her. He's trying to get a reaction out of you. Trying to empathise with your situation.

"Now what I can't understand is why you've willingly sat here for the last 20 hours and not asked for anything, not even a lawyer." The officer was trying to get her to confess. He was playing to her emotional side and hoping that her capacity to feel guilt was outweighing whatever psychotic break she was going through.

Jane saw right through his façade. "Would you like me to answer all of your questions?"

She had his full attention. Slowly placing her hands on the table in front of her, she could see the eagerness his eyes. He was about to be the first officer in the last 20 hours to make a breakthrough with her.

"My name is Jane Hanson. I am 29 years old. I have an IQ of 186 and PhDs in Psychology, Engineering and Mathematics. I was skating through Central Park to get to my job. I heard a woman scream and ran over to her. I took my scarf off and applied pressure to the stab wound in her chest to try to slow the bleeding. I was about to call 911 when I saw a person run from behind a bush. I checked the woman's pulse and she didnt have a heartbeat. I ran after the man and caught up with him. I tackled him by kicking his injured leg and stunning him long enough for me to get him to the ground and throw the knife away and out of his reach." Jane started to raise her voice, feeling the annoyance from the past day building in her chest. "I'm still in this shitty room because the NYPD doesnt want to find out the truth, they just want the easiest resolution. I have a higher IQ than the average person so why would I do something as boring and easy as stabbing a person in a park. I haven't asked for a lawyer because I am innocent you fucking moron!"

"Ma'am, I need you to calm down."

"This is calm and it's actually doctor."

The officers head quickly snapped up at the sound of the door opening. Jane sighed and looked down at her hands. She realised that shouting at the man in front of her probably didn't help her case. All they were going to do now is say that she deep rooted anger issues and she had attacked the woman in the park out of rage.

"If you don't mind officer, I'd like to ask Miss Hanson a few questions."

Jane looked up at the sound of a woman's voice, it was the first one she had heard in 20 hours and she was quite happy to hear it. The testosterone in the room had been suffocating her. Stood in front of her was a tall, slim woman of about 35 with shoulder length black hair. She smiled down at Jane. The officer obviously wasnt too happy about her taking over the interrogation and he was about to protest when she flashed him a badge. He huffed and slowly stood up from his chair, giving Jane one last look before he left the room. She gave him the most sarcastic smile she possibly could.

The woman sat down in the chair opposite Jane.

"I'm special agent Emily Prentiss with the FBI. I was wondering if I could ask you few things?"

Jane just shrugged.

"How did you know about the mans injured leg?"

"What?"

"When you were talking to the officer you said you tackled him by kicking his injured leg. How did you know he was injured?"

Jane reluctantly started to explain.

"His left footprint was deeper than his right, which suggested that he depended more on his left leg. I assumed he was either drunk or injured. I ruled out that he might have been drunk on the account of a semi planned attack of the woman in the park."

"What do you mean semi planned?" Emily asked.

"Central Park is 1.317 square miles and it has an average of 38 million visitors annually. So roughly 104,109.589 people walk through the Park every day. He would have wanted to find someone alone and in a secluded area so he could attack. He probably waited behind the bush and when he saw someone of his preferred type, he ambushed them, taking their purse and any other valuables. He wouldn't have been able to have this much clarity while drunk, so I just assumed he was injured." Jane shrugged.

"Well you assumed correct." Emily put a file down on the table. "Robert Scott, 42. Recently charged with petty theft. Was admitted to hospital after his partner went rouge. This," she said, patting a piece of paper, "is his signed confession."

"Didn't like people thinking I was taking credit for his work, classic narcissist."

Emily smiled at Jane.

"So, can I go now?"

Emilys smile got bigger. She turned her head towards the door as a smartly dressed man walked in.

"Jane this is SSA Arron Hotchner."

He reached out to shake Janes hand. He cleared his throat and met her eyes.

"I have a proposition for you."

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