In a dimly lit room, Margaret and David carefully crafted their plan, a subtle interplay between darkness and light.
Detective David leaned forward, his gaze unwavering as he addressed Margaret.
"Margaret," he said, "we need to dig deeper. Mr. Johnson, who was abducted, holds the key to unraveling this mystery."
"You might need to unofficially talk to him"
Margaret nodded, her expression serious. "Agreed. He survived an ordeal, and his perspective is invaluable. Let's approach him discreetly."
She further said, her expression serious,
"You Talk to the recipients. Find patterns."
And so, they ventured into the city.
...
(Mr. Johnson penthouse)
Mr Johnson's hands trembled slightly as he poured them each a glass of aged whiskey. The room smelled of leather-bound books and memories.
"Mr. Johnson," Margaret began gently, "we appreciate your willingness to speak with us. Can you recount the events of your abduction?"
