[center][h1][Color=DF0101]Haakon J. Elvsgaard[/color][/h1] [img]http://www.jerryjazzmusician.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/bix1.jpg[/img][/center] [hr][center][Color=DF0101]Location:[/color]The Prison[/center][hr] He didn't like it, leaving Josephine with that revolting mass of a man and...whatever he wanted to do with her, but he knew that neither of them had much of a choice. So he entered the room with the representative without any fuss. At least anything audible, for inside him he tried not to think too much about what he had just entered; the worn-out and decayed furniture and inside of the room, the pool of blood on the table and the lone tooth resting peacefully in the puddle. Peaceful, as in not being connected to Abbas' jaw anymore. Haakon didn't argue with the representative and sat down on the chair as ordered. He took of his fedora, placing it at the table - away from the pool of blood, of course - as he looked up at his interrogator. [Color=DF0101]"Short answer, Sir, is that I live there, and have done so for the past month."[/color] Haakon said to the man standing above him. For all the fear and uncertainty that had been brewing inside of him for their lovely little wagon-ride, he was putting on a brave face, while his voice was as serious as could be. Not accusing or agitated, just serious. [Color=DF0101]"The long story is that Miss Clark and I had partaken in a excursion down the Nile and to the Egyptian Museum that afternoon. Afterwards we returned to the Grand Continental for a drink and to continue our conversation. And I can only assume that your next question will revolve around how we came to meet that man arrested yesterday?"[/color] Haakon answered, taking a breath before continuing. He had certainly not expected to talk of what he was about to say, at least not unless he would have published the story himself; [Color=DF0101]"We witnessed him commit murder in the first degree. It started when the two of us, Miss Clark and me, overheard him rather loudly arguing with the receptionist before causing him great distress and promptly leaving. I was curious, as us journalists are, and followed. I admit it wasn't my business to follow him, but curiosity overcame me, and Miss Clark followed. Best case scenario, he'd leave and cause no more trouble. Worst case? Well, following the man you arrested yesterday and dragged past us not five minutes ago, we came to the alleyway behind the hotel to hear the breaking glass, the man now dressed as a servant and entering the kitchen, and the dead body of the poor servant."[/color] [Color=DF0101]"We decided that there was no time to lose, and thus followed him back inside the kitchen and up several floors. We were trying to stop a cold-blooded murderer. Foolish? Perhaps, but then and there it seemed like the better option. Shall I go on, Sir?"[/color]