"So, the problem here are these two bullets." Mr. Bianchi said, looking at the pictures the police sent him.
"We should be getting the autopsy report today, right sir?" Lekkey asked.
"Correct. Then we will be able to find out who this man is."
When I first saw the man, I wonder too whom he was. That was the question I didn't know. What was he doing with the gangsters?
"I wonder about this. It all seems...too clean." Mr. Bianchi rubbed his chin. "The murderer weapon wasn't there. There wasn't any footprints. Nothing. Was the murderer even there?"
He was. I saw it with my own eyes. Wait. Wasn't there a trash bin? The one I was hiding behind? Why aren't they mentioning about it? Unless...that also disappeared.
Suddenly somebody knocked on the door.
"Ah! Must be the autopsy report!" Mr. Bianchi ran to the door and answered it.
After a few minutes, he came back into the main room. "Got it." He said holding up the report. He then glanced through it. "Seems like he goes by the alias of Don Parker. He was 32 of age and have a family of three: His wife, Stephanie, and his two sons, Warren and Baner. His time of death was at 12:45 am. He died shortly after two gunshots to the chest. One bullet was placed two inches up from his stomach, and the other two inches below his collar bone. The bullet apparently was from PSS pistol. Unusual."
"Aren't those type of pistols usually provided by the Russians? What is it doing here in America?" Lekkey questioned.
"I don't know. That is strange. Usually special forces are allowed to use it. Could it be that the murderer is someone important?"
"No that can't be..." I muttered.
"Huh? Do you know something, miss?" Lekkey turned towards me.
"Eh?" I did it now. So much for keeping a low profile. Would it be safe telling these two?
I then rose up from my seat and searched the room for any recorders or cameras. However, the room seemed clear. Would it still be good to tell them?
"Do you know something, Ms. Berger?" Mr. Bianchi looked at me with suspicion.
"No. Nothing of the sort. I was thinking of my brother possibly being part of the case, that's all." I smiled to ease up the atmosphere.
"I see. You were thinking that your brother couldn't be part of the case since the murderer could be someone from the special force, correct?" Lekkey empathized.
"Yeah." I agreed and looked at Mr. Bianchi. His face, however, didn't look like he trusted my answer.
"I can't sit for a long period of time. I think I'll head out for some fresh air." I stood up from my seat and walked outside.
Mr. Bianchi now doesn't trust me because of my lie. What am I going to do now? It's not that I don't trust them, but it's because I don't know how much power the murderer has. He could have gone through Mr. Bianchi's office during the time we went to the crime scene.
What if the murderer could have heard me? I would be a dead woman.
The wind began to breeze through the trees, causing them to rustle. My red hair began rustle, just as the trees had. The nice gentle breeze helped comfort me and calm me down. "The air is fresh today."
Why did you have to deal with gangsters, Levi?
"Something is bothering you, isn't it, Ms. Berger?" Mr. Bianchi asked from behind, causing me to jump out of my skin.
"Oh." I grabbed my chest, holding in my fright.
"Sorry for frightening you. I would like to ask you a question, Ms. Berger. Where were you at 12:45 midnight?"
"Are you suspecting me, Mr. Bianchi?"
"Just answer the question, Ms. Berger. Make it easier for the both of us."
Trust is an interesting thing.
"I was walking home after we talked with Ms. Kitty." I answered.
"Which street were you walking down?"
As I thought. He was suspecting me.
"No comment."
"Ms. Berger, what was the real reason why you didn't want Lekkey and me to walk you home?"
I looked at Mr. Bianchi in the eyes. It seemed as if he wanted to believe that I wasn't the murderer. If I were to tell him I was on the same street as the alley, would the gangsters come after me?
"I...wanted to walk alone." I explained.
"Mr. Bianchi! Mr. Bianchi!" A policeman came running towards us. "We found out there was a witness at the time after the murder."
"What?" Mr. Bianchi looked at the policeman.
"Seems that witness took a picture of the murderer after the killer finished the job." The policeman then showed the photo to us, and as I thought, there I was. It showed the back of my head, but you could still tell that it was me. In the photo, I was wearing gloves like I had the other night. Lifting the man's wrist. However, I was blocking the wrist from the camera view.
This felt all too perfectly planned.
Mr. Bianchi then turned my way. "Ms. Anastasie Berger. You are under arrest for the murder of Don Parker. You have the right to remain silent."
As I thought. I was suspected. Would it have turned out better if I did tell them?