“Minusc.”

The investigator lifted her head, “What?”

“I told you he sent me there. To the scene of the crime. It was Minusc who sent me.”

As if the Snakes of Doom wasn’t bad enough, the woman thought. “Minusc is dead.”

“Presumed dead. Big difference.”

“So where is he?” She asked, suddenly wondering if this wasn’t a dead end.

The man before her grinned, “Storm Colors.”

Or maybe it was a dead end. “Don’t get funny.”

“Trying to lighten the mood. He could be anywhere. He prides himself in being in the wind and shadows.”

Now that he was talking, she might as well milk it for all it was worth. “You work for Minusc?”

He hesitated a second. “Yes.”

“Is Minusc working with the Snakes of Doom?”

He shrugged.

She sighed tiredly after the four hours in this interrogation room, “What made you start talking?”

“I figured it was alright now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I told the Snakes I was a trustworthy asset because I would be dead in three hours. I lied.” He smiled, handing her a Meg-Sleeper pill in his hand.