Sam did what he asked for. He stepped behind her and tapped his hands from her wrists to under her armpits. There he paused for a moment. He grabbed her breasts with both hands and kneaded them violently. Sam did not speak a word.

The two colleagues found the situation rather amusing. His hands slid down her sides to her hips. Again he paused, then brutally grabbed her butt with both hands. His colleagues smirked. Sam remained silent like a fish. He felt first her left and then her right leg. As he got up behind her, he reached back to her chest with one hand and brutally grabbed her between the legs with the other. Sam felt his wet tongue in her left ear and grimaced in disgust.

"Maybe the boss allows us to have fun with you before he turns you around."

Sam turned his head to the side and hissed at him. "Yes, it would be a feast to put your tiny cock in your mouth and bite your balls off."

He released her as if he had burned his fingers on her. Painfully, he grabbed her upper arm, pulled her around and pushed her away from the car. "Your cold-bloodedness will drive you out of the boss." he spat.

Her little procession began to move. Sam saw a one-story building with a flat roof. She counted six steps as they approached the entrance. The sky was still the color of old iron. Sam said goodbye to the hope of perhaps seeing the light of day.

As they stepped through the door, she blazed the hard light of the neon lights. The driver still clutched her upper arm like a vise. Bruising and bruising should be her least concern. With a jerk, the driver motioned for her to stop.

"Where is he?" he asked his colleague, who sat in a chair behind the counter in the entryway, peeling off an orange.

"In Interrogation Room 4. He's expecting you. Ramon, you should write the log immediately."

The on-duty cop turned to Sam's guard from the backseat.

Ramon seemed annoyed. "Hey, I want to be part of the interrogation."

The driver pulled Sam roughly. Behind them, Sam Ramon was still scolding and cursing. They walked down a long corridor, from which several doors opened on the left side.

At the end of the corridor, they walked down a winding staircase to the lower section of the police station. Here there were sobering cells, detention cells and interrogation rooms. The walls were bare and dirty brown in color. The floor was laid out with sea green linoleum, which had seen better days. Everywhere the glaring, merciless light of neon lights.

At the end of the corridor was a door from which the dirty white paint had already chipped off in many places. The driver knocked briefly and pulled the door open. They entered an L-shaped room. In the middle stood a heavy wooden table with two chairs. There was a single painting in the room, a large rectangular portrait of a man who seemed familiar to Sam.

In front of the portrait stood a man with his hands crossed behind his back. His dark blue uniform stretched over his huge shoulders. His bullskirt arched over his collar, his dark hair was military short.

The driver pushed Sam into one of the chairs and cleared his throat briefly. "Miguel, sir, we're here."

Miguel went on staring at the portrait. Sam stared at the burnished board of the wooden table. In this bare room lit by neon lights, her life should end. She resolved not to beg or plead, and if she had the opportunity to deal as many punches and kicks as she could.

Sam glanced at the driver, who nervously stepped from one leg to the other. The man in front of the portrait still did not move. The only sound came from the buzzing neon tube over Sam's head. Suddenly a deep, full voice cut through the silence.

" Leave us alone"

The driver reacted visibly nervous. "Sir, I do not think that's a good idea" he answered hesitantly.

Finally, the man turned around, Sam closed his eyes depressed. She saw the same features as Jessica's tormentor. This was not a distant relationship, the two had to be brothers. This specimen was not fat, he looked massive, but well-trained. Again the full voice sounded. "If I want your opinion, I'll tell you which one. Out now?."

After these words, the driver and his colleague hastily left the room. When the door closed, Sam's ears sounded pretty good. She braced herself, assuming that he would immediately attack her and beat her. Defiantly she raised her head and looked at her opposite. Their eyes met. He studied her closely and finally sat down in the chair on the other side of the table. He crossed his hands on the tabletop and studied his manicured fingernails.

The silence felt tough and heavy. He looked Sam straight in the eyes again, his eyes were piercing. Sam shifted uneasily in her chair. The man registered this with a satisfied smile.

"I want to know one thing, why ??"

Sam looked over at the portrait. "?Who is this??"

Miguel glanced at the picture for a moment.

"This is my father. He died two years ago. He was police chief and mayor, 18 long years. When he retired, I began his succession. Manuel, my brother, has devoted himself more to the economic affairs of this region. Your interest in our family history surprises me. And now I want to know - WHY !!!?" A vein on his left temple began to throb.

Sam decided it would be better to give him the information he wanted.