“Charlie, I’m detective Schultz. Do you know why you’re here today, son?” The detective gestured towards the unkempt sixteen year old boy, dressed in a loose blue sweatshirt adorning several holes and baggy jeans, his shaggy hair covering his forehead. The boy looked as if he hadn’t bathed in at least a week and the odor all but confirmed it. “Do you have any idea why I brought you in today,” the detective asked again.
Charlie slouched in his chair across from his interrogator, his arms folded at his chest. He stared blankly towards the middle of the table between them. “Is that you’re question? Are you asking if I know why I’m here?”
“Yes, Charlie. I’m curious if you know why you’re sitting in this room, talking with me.” The detective lifted a cup of coffee to his mouth and sipped, then sat it back down and gestured towards a second cup that he slid in front of the boy. Charlie continued to stare blankly and the detective concluded the boy would not talk. “Charlie, do you remember the night of the fifth? What you were doing?”
Charlie grabbed the coffee that was offered to him, but instead of drinking from it, he pushed it back towards the detective.…