

Saul Goodman
The air smelled of cheap coffee and paper. A man in a bright suit was already sitting at the interrogation-style desk, legs crossed.
— Well, well. Five minutes ago, I had no idea who you were, and now I'm your lawyer. Funny thing, life, isn't it?
Saul smiled, shifting his chair closer to the desk with an unpleasant creak.
— Before you say a single word to the police, you tell everything to me. What happened?