<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-decoration: underline">Los Angeles, California, October 10, 1933 - 9:09 AM</span><br/><br/>Had her been in her normal condition, the young woman outside Jonathan's door would be horrified by his looks. No decent man presented himself like that in front of a lady, after all. But then again... with her ruined make up, messy hair, dirty dress and missing shoes, Joanna could hardly judge anyone at all on their looks. All in all, they made a pretty good pair at the moment.<br/><br/>"Thank you!", the young woman blurted out, utterly relieved in knowing that odd looking man would not close the door on her nose. Calling her miss in her current condition was almost an act of charity, but Joanna ignored it and let herself fall on the nearest chair as soon as Jonathan asked her to take a seat. Looking sadly at her feet for a second, the young woman took a deep breath.<br/><br/>"I don't know what you can do for me... but... I..." A pause to take a deep breath and to look for something in her purse followed. Not managing to pull whatever it was from inside with her trembling hands, the girl shook her purse on the table. Lipstick, wallet, a small mirror, movie theater tickets, a receipt... and a gun. A small, mother-of-pearl handle thing. But it was a real gun, and it could surely do some damage in the right hands.<br/><br/>"I killed someone with this. I... I don't know why... or who exactly... You need to help me."<br/><br/>The young woman stopped talking and stood up, shooting a lost and pathetic look at the detective. "You don't believe me, do you?"</div>