5M – Flashy green jacket

She stood out from the crowd because of her jacket. It was a flashy green. The kind of green you don’t want to wear unless you’re from the old seventies and skiing. She was young though. Too young to be dead. As every murder scene, carnage in this case, the senior inspector was late to arrive. Her name was Helen. Helen Richardson. Never smiling nor talking unless she needed to. I only knew her name because I saw it on a file I had to review for her. I’m Desmond, her assistant
This morning, she actually talked to me. A question, of all things.
“Did you slept well ?” she asked.
I though I was still dreaming, so she went again. How was your night, Desmond ?
“Hrm… alright ma’am. And you ?” I muttered, intrigued.
She did not answer of course. Something else was on her mind.

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