Heidi Walks Into the Crime Scene
The inspector got all excited and told the CSI techs, “Clean it up! Give me a better image! I need to see the face! I cannot see it at all! Come on, do something! Make it useful for me! Can you do that?!”
Before the agent working the surveillance equipment could answer, the three men heard a voice with a strong French accent say in English, “No, but maybe I can.” The men turned and saw a woman standing in the doorway.
The inspector, inquiring in a placid tone, said, “And who might you be, my dear?”
In response to the question, Heidi pulled out her ID card and flashed it in front of the inspector. It read, Chief Inspector Silvana Ristor and below it, Interpol. The French inspector raised his eyebrows.
The woman was Heidi June, a slender-looking woman in her early thirties. Her soft and delicate features were misleading when it came to the quantum of strength she possessed. Her agency came as a surprise to the inspector and he exclaimed, “Interpol? What is their involvement in this case?”
Heidi replied, “The two gentlemen who were killed here a few hours ago were part of huge money-laundering organization. They are tied to a string of killings in Dubai, Rome, and Madrid.”
It was not easy for the inspector to accept all this so easily. He tried to dismiss her claims and carry on with the work. He started to walk the length of the room and shouted at one of his assistants, demanding that the preliminary ballistic report be delivered to him within an hour.
Even before the assistant could say something, Heidi replied, “The bullets will not match the bullet that killed the man at the other crime scene this morning.” Her voice conveyed the strength of her confidence.
This was getting to be too much for the inspector. He gave Heidi a top-to-bottom look and asked, “Are you sure?”
“How do you know that?” added one of the CSI agents. “We only sent them to the lab a few hours–”
“That’s not important,” Heidi interrupted.
The inspector quipped in, “She’s right. We have a professional assassin in our midst. The question is, where will he hit next?” He waved his hands in the air and in a mocking tone said, “My money is on Berlin, Amsterdam, or London. What do you have to say, Miss…?”