[center][h2]Fynn LaPlace[/h2][/center]

Had it not been for the invention of charge-coupled devices and the wide arc of digital cameras employing this technology, Fynn would probably have needed an awful lot more workouts than he apparently used to subject himself to. It would have been barely possible for the small-ish man to handle the sheer amount of analog film produced by the number of crime scenes the Sunday Group encountered otherwise. The IT specialist continued photographing the car, the rubbermarks, the grooves in the gravel and everything else he deemed to be of importance until he was confident to have gotten everything from all perspectives needed. Also he had littered the place with small rulers and cubes indicating lengths and volumes for later reference.

Or, in other words, now that Eleanor had clearly pointed out the need for speed and his laptop also requested his attention by means of beeping, Fynn was in an elevated state of haste in order to wrap things up. Lowly muttering something to himself that could hardly be understood as anything else than a curse, he started picking up his various utensils from the ground again and drop them into a leather bag where they'd find some more protection.

The corner of his eyesight still found an opportunity to pick up what Primrose was doing. To him it was rather obvious out of sheer experience, but at the same time he was certain that, for the cop in the car, the situation was very grim without him even noticing -- simply because Primrose once more sold it with just the right mixture of determination and charme. Maybe she'd even be able to convince the man to give up on donuts, thereby extending his potential lifespan ?

Unfortunately however the laptop on the car's roof didn't stop indicating that it had finished the job. Somewhere inside its pretty vast solid state drive were now located all of the car's internal error flags, a complete copy of each control unit's flash memory and various other information and measurements as far as these could be done just by accessing the diagnostic connector. For more he'd have to get the car into the workshop, or just the time to tear it apart on the spot. The latter however was pretty much ruled out.

"Hey, Eleanor ?" he asked with a fairly obvious smirk around his lips, "Would you like me to implant some other data into the car so to make it look less like a worthy crimescene to the police ? Because, according to what I can see here by means of a short glance only, that's what it really is unless we're dealing with a case of extreme improbability. This car has airbags, but either they have been removed or disconnected. All of them. And either our dead driver has decided to just commit to an horrendous act of stupidity and ignored all warning lights, or the dashboard has been rigged for them not to work anymore."

[hider=Synopsis]
- Fynn finishes his 'classic police work'
- His initial data readout indicates that the car has been manipulated to make any occupant's death more likely in case of an accident.
- However this is only a somewhat preliminary conclusion limited by short time and the inability to make a thorough physical inspection. Or, in other words: He can neither confirm nor rule out that additional measures were taken to cause the accident to happen in the first place.
- Not in accordance with 'classic police work', he offers Eleanor to sabotage the car to make it more difficult for the official police to find out the truth, thereby possibly buying the Sunday Group some more time since the investigation has only just begun.[/hider]