- Good morning Eric - said detective Clark with a note of desperation. - How are you today?
- Same old Linda. I'm doing my best on this case, having sleepless nights, hoping for something to come out of nothing and help us to find this guy. - Eric Adams was looking almost like a zombie, with big dark circles under his eyes, the color of his skin was mixture between white, light blue and yellow, his eyes were red, his hair was dirty and not combed for days.
- Get yourself up Eric. You don't have to surrender to this guy. We'll find him.
- Linda, what else we could do? You know that we've made everything we could. We've checked every single clue over and over again and still we are standing in front of the same list with suspects and asking ourselves the same question “Who is the killer?”.
- Come on Eric, you didn't become a detective to give up on cases like this. We've revealed more convoluted cases. Just remember that the mayor gave us a medal for merit in fighting against the crime in the city. You are still the best detective in our department and this guy will end up in prison, I believe in you.
These words gave a note of confidence to detective Adams and he almost smiled. Linda noticed that and immediately grabbed the momentum: - Eric, come with me. Let's talk again with the delivery man Henry Turner. I think there is something he is not telling us. It was a hard month. Day after day the media was shooting with leading pages and leading titles:
