Detective Peter Pux stood across from Max Jones in the interrogation room, his fists clenched at his sides. He couldn't believe that the man who had terrorized the city with a string of murders was now involved in a string of burglaries.

Jones sat at the table, his eyes cold and hard. He seemed unrepentant as if he didn't care that he had been caught.

"You're going back to prison," Pux said, his voice filled with disgust. "And this time, you're not getting out."

Jones sneered. "You can't prove anything," he said. "I've got an alibi for all of the burglaries. You've got nothing on me."

Pux's blood boiled. He knew that Jones was lying, but he needed proof. He had to find a way to break Jones's alibi and bring him to justice.

He spent the next few days working around the clock, following leads and piecing together the clues. And finally, he had what he needed.

With a sense of satisfaction, Pux confronted Jones with the evidence. Jones's alibi crumbled, and he finally broke down, confessing to the burglaries.

Pux couldn't believe it. They had finally caught Jones, and this time, he wasn't going anywhere.

As he left the interrogation room, Pux couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. He had brought down a dangerous criminal and made the city a safer place. It was a good day to be a detective.