<div style="text-align: justify;">“A Who’s Who?” he mumbled to himself. Jonathan could not fathom why anyone would want to steal one of those. The book of appointments was much more interesting. Was it possible that these two unfortunate men were not just people who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, but had been chosen specifically? Joanna Allen was one of the most innocent people Jonathan had ever met. No one in their right mind would think she was capable of murder. <span style="font-style: italic">But maybe that’s exactly what she wants.</span> Jonathan shot a nervous glance towards the still ajar door at the unwelcome thought. <span style="font-style: italic">No, Jonathan, relax. Why would a murderer come stumbling willingly into your office?</span><br/><br/>The sharp corner in the blood looked too small to have been a Who's Who, he decided. He was not surprised; the notebook seemed infinitely more interesting from what he knew. Appointments told you where people were going to be, and this man looked like he could have been a friend to a rich banker. He had no clue about the other one, though, and as Joanna had told him, neither did she. The cops seemed like a worse and worse idea. The girl with the murder weapon had ended up with another stiff in her apartment in less than a day; no way was she getting out of it. And Jonathan was not entirely sure why, but the thought of her – small, fragile, defenseless - in a police station was unbearable. He rose from his crouched position on the floor with a dull expression.<br/><br/>“We’re going back,” he said as he left the bedroom, “To my office. I’ve seen what I needed, and ya can’t stay at a crime scene.”</div>