My laughter is that of disbelief. That such a boy as you is so pampered and sheltered you don't know what a prosecutor is... You won't last a day in the clink.

[Blackquill seats himself on the opposite side of the glass, with a vicious, almost predatory grin on his face. Fulbright's away for the time being on the investigation, which means no holds barred on grilling the present -- and only -- suspect. His hands are bound in chains and Luke has the glass to protect him should it come to that, at least, although Blackquill's police escort still, frankly, look terrified.]

I don't care who or what you claim your father is. None of that tosh will protect you in court. All I need know is one thing: why did you steal it?