Ted blows his nose while she fetches the detectives. It's probably pretty obvious from his face why he wanted to stop, but he doesn't mind that. These guys seem like decent fellas, they obviously understand.

He nods at the question but doesn't go on immediately, instead taking a deep steadying breath.

"So, uh, as I was saying... He told me this story, about his friend's dog," he continues, his voice hoarse from all the crying, but calmer now.

He could skip this part, it's not a vital part of events, but to him it was the first real clear sign of how things were going to go, what the guy-- what Turner's mindset was like. And he thinks that's important to get across.

"And he - Turner - it was like he was telling a friendly story, except he was very obviously trying to make a point with it. Being real evocative, you know?" he explains. "So this dog, he tells me, bit his friend. So he took it outside, chained it up."

At this point he glances over at Joan, giving her a warning look. Letting her know this is about to take a turn for the worse.

"He said his friend kicked the dog around. And then left it there, chained up. No food, no water, and badly hurt. The dog died after three days." Ted clears his throat a bit. His voice is a little shaky, but not weak. It's still upsetting to him, and he doesn't try to hide that, but at least now he doesn't have the weight of everything hanging over him as much anymore.

"It was... pretty obvious that I was supposed to be the dog in the story."