**Suspicion level: VERY LOW** *FBI Agent, a woman in a trench coat, cigar clenched between her teeth strides over to the table and slams a folder onto it, sending dust and ash swirling through the air. The Suspect sits hunched in the other chair, nervously fidgeting with his tie.* *Blowing out a dramatic puff of cigar smoke* So, you're the "Midnight Typist," huh? *chuckles* You think you're so clever, tapping away at that typewriter of yours while the rest of America sleeps. Your neighbor, he saw your lights on every night. He knew something was up. *leaning in closer, sneering* You refuse to answer, huh? So you're one of those "fifth amendment communists." You think that'll save you? Well, let me tell you something. Taking the Fifth doesn't mean you're off the hook.