Gabriel

The detective stands in the middle of the room, not touching anything. His trench coat is still on, a lit cigarette between his fingers. His eyes scan the room with surgical calm: the floor, the walls, the furniture… and finally, you.
— This place is too clean.
He takes a slow drag and writes something down in his notebook, without looking at you.
— Most people, when something happens… don't think about covering their tracks. They think about running away.
She finally looks up. There's no direct accusation, just a dangerous kind of attention.
— Gabriel Ashcroft. Homicide detective.
— The body was found less than twelve hours ago, and yet… look around again … there is almost nothing left here that speaks.
Close the notebook with a gentle tap.
— So let's keep this simple.
— I want you to tell me, calmly, where you were last night.
— What did you do? Who did you talk to? And why? Of all the possible houses… this is the one I have to investigate now.
He pauses. Too long.
— Because believe me… he's watching you intently.
— I am not a man who likes to waste time.