Marcus INTERVIEWED BY: O'Brien (Interviewee looks as though he has recently been in a fight. Bruise on the face. Lower right arm is splinted. Left hand discolored, with some minor lacerations.)
State your full name for the record. (Interviewee smirks.) Marcus Caravahlo. You want my middle name, cabrĂ³n, gonna have to buy me dinner, first.
Do you have any nickname(s)? Maybe. None that I fucking answer to.
Please state your date of birth. (Interviewee raises an eyebrow, leans back in his chair, and crosses his arms.) You best be getting me a birthday present. October 31st, 1985. Halloween.
How long have you been a resident at Sing Sing? (Interviewee shrugs, glances at the wall for a moment, looks back at interviewer.) A fucking while. Heh. Haven't been keeping track. Can't really say.
Where, in Sing Sing, are you currently taking up residence? (Interviewee straightens up, shifts uncomfortably.) A fucking cell. Like most other fuckers who didn't get on anyone's favorite list.
Does anyone else live with you? (Interviewee grins.) No. Not right now. Might ask around, though. See if anyone wants to marry me. Kind've been missing my ex-wife, you know?
What is your daily routine/job here at Sing Sing? (Interviewee rolls his eyes, leans back in the chair again.) Let's see. Wake the fuck up, squeeze one off, shower, get breakfast, go to the fucking gym, go to the infirmary, get my fucking dick sucked a while, drink when I can find it, go the fuck to bed. Repeat. Infuckingfinity.
Where were you on the night of August 2nd? (Interviewee glances at his splinted right arm.) Couldn't fucking say. Don't fucking remember.
Where were you on the morning of August 3rd? (Interviewee grins.) Probably sleeping one off.
Are there people who can account for your whereabouts? No.
Did you know Mr. Marsh? (Interviewee sighs.) Doesn't ring any fucking bells.
Do you know why anyone would want to kill him? Yeah. Several billion motherfuckers on the outside of these walls.
If you do not know Mr. Marsh, do you know of anyone who did? Don't keep track of who knows anybody. (Interviewee pauses for a long moment, and frowns.) Fuck, I don't know nobody here. Whoever says they do is fucking lying, these days.
Have you heard and/or seen any suspicious activity around the compound, lately? Eh, no more than the usual. Heard somebody stole some shower curtains. That's some weird fucking pervert shit, isn't it? Saw someone asking for bennies, but that's just a fucking addict. Haven't seen any fuckers with bloody knives walking around or shit like that. That blonde puta, Stone? She likes to threaten to cut people. But I bring that psycho shit out in a lot of women, I guess.
Lastly, for now, who have you been "buddying up" with? (Interviewee sits up.) Heh. "Buddy." Guess I fucking forgot to get one of those, so nobody. We done, hombre? I got shit to do.