Fear

8-New Haven

Mira Miller put the car in park outside another accommodation block, she turned to Andersson who was busying herself looking out of the window over the green. "So she was found over there?"

"Yeah, just the other side of the bins."

"And where does she stay in relation to here?"

"That block there second floor." Mira leaned over a little and pointed.

"And if I was heading back here from town, which of these blocks would I reach first?"

"I'm not too sure to be honest." The cop said as she pulled her lips in.

"Okay let's go see what Charles Boothman has to say for himself." She undid her safety belt and stepped out.

It was a still evening for late September. There was a slight dampness to the air which made it feel cooler than it actually was. The air smelled like moss, probably from the well trodden wet grass square which the accommodation blocks bordered. The orange glow of a street lamp highlighted the entrance to Durfee House which appeared to be a very old sandstone building.

"This is the freshman accommodation area." Mira informed her. "I'm sure it's one of the oldest residential areas on campus."

Andersson, let the detective lead the way into the block, upstairs and along the corridor to the dorm room. Where she gave a nod of the head, instructing the brunette to knock.

There was a bit of noise on the other side of the door, Taylor listened and deduced that whoever was inside was quickly hiding something, if the smell was anything to go buy it was probably weed. Finally the door opened to a well ventilated room. With three windows now wide open.

The room was sparse, a threadbare rug which had once borne some Aztec design covered the wooden floor. The old arm chair that the student had just sat back down in was stained from years of greasy hands and was fit to burst in areas. In the corner a new desk stood with a gaming chair, there were several computers set on the desk. Next to an overflowing ashtray. With a few wraps set to the side.

"Mr Boothman. I'm detective Mira Miller with the NHPD Major Crimes Unit and this is Special Agent Taylor Andersson of the Federal Bureau of Investigation." Both women held out their credentials. We'd like to ask you a few questions about Sunday morning."

"Okay," the guy moved his hair back from his brow only for it to slip down again and slid his Harry Potter style glasses back up his nose a little. He was shaking as he did so.

"How much Cannabis have you smoked this evening, sir?" Andersson asked calmly.

"Eh?" He sounded worried.

"You're obviously under the influence of something, and despite the effort to hide the smell under deodorant the place is stinking of marijuana. So I'll ask you again, how much have you smoked this evening?"

"Just blunt. It's not a crime."

"No but it may affect your ability to accurately engage with us in a meaningful way." Andersson acknowledged.

The student sat down on an old armchair. The law women remained standing.

"Is it Charles or Charlie?"

"Mr Boothman." He laughed.

"Okay Mr Boothman. Can you tell me about what you were upto Saturday?"

"I was at a Mork Borg meet."

"What's that?" Taylor asked, confused.

The stoned witness sniggered again. "It's a Swedish TTRPG based on heavy metal."