"I dunno," shot Gerardo, irritated that he had cover old ground. "There's about a thousand different things that could have caused that extraction fan to fall in on itself. Shit, some parts of this station are well past their sell-by-date. Last inspection was carried out over twelve months ago, and it was mentioned that the drive-shaft was showing signs of wear then. No one took a look, as far as I know." He held up a hand at the thickest part of the crowd, "and don't you go shitting yourselves over that either. This station is just one leaky roof, with more holes than we can plug. We have to prioritise our repairs, and a rusty oxygen extractor fan was not high up on the list." 

After Tito and Flint had added their piece to the Murder Mystery Mayhem, Gerardo felt he'd better remove himself as far as humanly possible from being the prime suspect. "I don't know who got Eddie, but he was a good man for what it's worth. No one ever moaned much about him, no more than expected anyway. Whoever did it though must'a been quick, 'cus that kind of butcher work woulda made someone scream to high heaven. I was servicing one of the A-19's lenses down in the workshop at the time, and got about twenty witnesses who can account for me, so no one go pointing fingers my way or you'll lose them."

The pager attached to his waist cawed at him briefly, and he cursed. "Listen guys, I'd like to stay here and play 'Who Dun It', but I've got a power surge down in Hydroponics, and I ain't up for letting one of those water pumps blow a fuse again. Last thing I need is to have to mop up four feet of water for the rest of the week. So if there's nothing else, I'm off." 

He headed towards the door.