Custody

Kenny Banksy was trapped in the Interpol interrogation room in London, his expression a mixture of frustration and anxiety. He knew the situation was critical, and his only hope of getting out of this mess was to play his cards right.

The agent in charge of the investigation was a serious and determined man. He looked at Kenny and asked, with a firm tone, “Mr. Banksy, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. What is the fate of the piece that was in your possession?”

Kenny took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. He was prepared for this question. “The piece belongs to a friend. She was traveling with me.”

The agent raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “A friend? Why isn't she here, then?”

Kenny didn't hesitate. “She must have caught the flight to Milan while I got detained here.”

The agent continued to scrutinize Kenny with suspicion. “And the name of this friend? Where is she staying in Milan?”

Kenny quickly made up a story. “Her name is Miranda York, and she's staying at the Hotel Excelsior in Milan.”

The agent furrowed his brow. “There's no record of a Miranda York in our system. Are you sure you're telling the truth?”

Kenny started to sweat. The situation was getting more complicated, and Kenny had to find a way to convince the agents that Miranda existed and was involved in the story.

“I swear she was with me,” Kenny insisted. “Please, can you check with the airline? They can confirm she was with me.”

The agent sighed and made a call to check the security camera footage from the airline. Kenny was anxious, as he knew his story depended on these images.

While waiting for the airline's response, Kenny continued to explain, “Miranda is a close friend, and I was looking after the piece for her. She had plans to do a photo shoot in Milan.”

The agent on the phone finally hung up and looked at Kenny. “Mr. Banksy, I regret to inform you that the airline found no passenger registered under the name Miranda York on your flight. Do you have any documents or evidence of this friend's existence?”

Kenny was at a loss for what to do. He couldn't reveal Miranda's true identity. He knew he had to improvise.

“This doesn't make sense,” he responded, looking confused. “She must have flown under a different identity, or maybe... maybe she entered some witness protection program. Miranda is a very discreet person and likes to keep a low profile.”

The agents continued to press Kenny, asking for evidence of Miranda's existence. However, he was in a tricky spot, and any additional information he provided could compromise Miranda's mission. He had to be careful in his responses.

Kenny was starting to break a sweat. He knew he was in trouble, and his only chance was to persist. “Please, check the airport's security cameras. I was with her the whole time. She went to the bathroom before we boarded, and I was looking after the bags.”

The agent seemed reluctant, but Kenny was playing his last cards. “We'll check the cameras, but don't think this absolves you of suspicion, Mr. Banksy.”

Kenny nodded in gratitude. He knew the security camera footage would prove that he was with a woman. Kenny was determined to find Miranda and prove her existence. As the agents checked the airport's security camera images, Kenny prayed they would find something.

Outside the interrogation room, tension hung in the air. Interpol's agents meticulously analyzed the security camera images. Finally, they returned to the room where Kenny was detained.

The agent conducting the interrogation had a softer expression now. “Kenny, it seems you were telling the truth. We found images of you and a black-haired woman at the airport.”

Kenny breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you for verifying. Now, do you understand that I have nothing to do with this, right?”

The agents didn't seem convinced by Kenny's explanation and continued to press him. They wanted to know more about the woman he claimed was his friend and why they were together.

The agent made a note and sighed. “Mr. Banksy, we are investigating a significant art theft, and your connection with this friend is crucial to our investigation. If you don't cooperate, we will have to keep you in custody for a longer period.”

Kenny knew he was in a tough spot. He needed an alibi. While the agents debated among themselves, Kenny realized his only option was to try a different approach.

“Listen, I understand the gravity of the situation, and I want to help as much as possible. If you can give me access to a phone, I can try to contact her, so you can verify the story.”

The agents agreed, and Kenny was taken to a separate room with a phone. He dialed Miranda's number, hoping she would answer. On the other hand, Victoria was at a café in the airport, waiting for news from Kenny.

When the phone she had acquired under the name Miranda rang, she looked at the screen and saw Kenny's number. She hung up with a single touch and continued to enjoy her coffee.

As the interrogation continued, Kenny began to realize that his situation was getting even riskier. He was in the hands of Interpol, unable to prove that Miranda was real. He felt powerless and worried about what might happen next.

Kenny was tense as he anxiously awaited for Miranda to answer the call. However, the call went straight to voicemail, and Miranda's voice didn't sound on the other end of the line. He knew something was wrong, but he wasn't sure what could have happened.

The Interpol agents were growing impatient with Kenny's prolonged phone call. They knew they had found the stolen painting and were becoming increasingly convinced of Kenny's involvement in illegal activities.

Finally, one of the agents gestured to end the call. “You've had enough time, Mr. Banksy. It seems your friend Miranda is unavailable to confirm your story. As I mentioned earlier, we'll have to keep you in custody while we continue our investigation.”

Kenny, with a worried look on his face, responded, “Wait! Something is wrong. Miranda would never ignore a call from me. Something must have happened.”

The agents remained unyielding and began preparing the necessary paperwork for Kenny's detention. The situation seemed to be worsening rapidly, and Kenny had no choice but to cooperate in the best way he could.

When Kenny was finally led to the cell, he knew his life was seriously at risk. Without Miranda's cooperation, he had no way to confirm his story and was being held in custody on suspicion of involvement in a significant art theft.

Kenny took a deep breath and finally gave in. “Okay, I'll tell the truth.”