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Description
“10 4 05” Tom muttered, “close personal friend of Laura Kaposky, victim number one.” He peered over the table at the shaky young lady the other side. “Please state your name and age for the tape recorder.”
“Hannah Batwonne, 24 and 2 months.”
“May I just stress that you are simply being interviewed for information, not as a suspect of a crime.” He said comfortingly, yet the boredom coming through strongly in his voice. He was fed up of these interviews, knowing that nothing would come from them with out narrowing down what they were looking for.
He perused the cause, knowing nothing they stumbled across would aid this investigation. He began the routine questioning;
“When was the last time you saw Laura?”
“Last Monday, we met up for lunch.”
“The day we believe she met her demise?”
The woman’s faced creased up, and her blinking sped up. She managed to regain her straight face, with a touch of Tom’s soft hand.
“Yes, we met up at 11:30” her voice trembled, this time failing to prevent the tears rolling down her face.
“Do you know what her plans were for the rest of the day?”
“Go home… sleep, she was tired”
Tom’s thought train was broken by a light knock on the door. Irritated, he welcomed them.
“We’ve got number 11 Sir.”

Description
“10 4 05” Tom muttered, “close personal friend of Laura Kaposky, victim number one.” He peered over the table at the shaky young lady the other side. “Please state your name and age for the tape recorder.”
“Hannah Batwonne, 24 and 2 months.”
“May I just stress that you are simply being interviewed for information, not as a suspect of a crime.” He said comfortingly, yet the boredom coming through strongly in his voice. He was fed up of these interviews, knowing that nothing would come from them with out narrowing down what they were looking for.
He perused the cause, knowing nothing they stumbled across would aid this investigation. He began the routine questioning;
“When was the last time you saw Laura?”
“Last Monday, we met up for lunch.”
“The day we believe she met her demise?”
The woman’s faced creased up, and her blinking sped up. She managed to regain her straight face, with a touch of Tom’s soft hand.
“Yes, we met up at 11:30” her voice trembled, this time failing to prevent the tears rolling down her face.
“Do you know what her plans were for the rest of the day?”
“Go home… sleep, she was tired”
Tom’s thought train was broken by a light knock on the door. Irritated, he welcomed them.
“We’ve got number 11 Sir.”