Tony slouched on a bench in his tiny cell the morning after his arrest, heaving a deep sigh.
"Man, all those tiny little crimes I committed as a kid on da streets, and neva once did I wind up in the slammer. And now I didn't do nothin', and here I am."
Chief Bellingham sat at a desk nearby, pouring over documents related to the case, as well as any records they had on this Tony Toponi fellow. While having been cited with warnings a few times when he was a juvenile after shoplifting food from the marketplace, he was otherwise clean since becoming an adult.
"If not for being involved in this murder I'd call you an unusual success story, Toponi, having come from being a juvenile delinquent orphan on the streets. Most mice like you would have joined a gang by now."
Tony scoffed, but said nothing.
"I don't suppose you're going to just tell me the location of those Indians, are you now?"
"Even if I did, da tunnel's collapsed, and I don't know any otha way in."
"Hm, but there must be some oth