Carl continued his pattern of circling the office slowly, then raising the blinds with two fingers to peer down at street. To Carl, three things were obvious. One, This was no robbery, botched or otherwise. Two, someone wanted Michael Newton dead. Three, someone wanted Jessica Davidson alive. It smelled like a mob hit. Had Michael been paying protection money? Missed too many payments? Was he meant to be an example for other business owners who were under the thumb of the mob? Carl would have to get a look at the bakery's books.<br/><br/>He watched the police car pull up to the curb. The siren slowly died as two uniformed cops exited the vehicle. He saw Tony Hendrix unfold his six foot three self from the back seat.  Tony was<span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">the </span></span>Homicide department of the 14th precinct, and a friend of Carl's. The three policemen peered into the glass front door of the bakery, then entered the building through the metal door beside it- leading them into the skinny hallway.<span style="font-style: italic">"Presumably"</span>, Carl thought to himself,<span style="font-style: italic">"they'll find what they're looking for."</span>Out loud, he said to Jessica, "They're here. Still no luck calling your husband?"<br/><br/>He already knew the answer, since he had been standing right there and knew she had spoken with no one. Her blank, shattered expression confirmed the answer. He asked mainly to try to break through a little ice. His heart really went out to her, poor dame. She weas really shook up, emotionally and physically. She needed her husband here now, more than ever. "The cops will be up here in a few minutes" he guessed, and correctly.  He watched as she dialed her home number yet again. She was listening to the ring tones as the knock came from the door.  Two sharp knocks, followed by the long legs of Tony Hendrix walking in.<br/><br/>Carl offered a half smile. "Tony! Gllad you could make it. You didn't bring any coffee?"  Before Tony could answer, Carl reached out and put a gentle hand around Jessica's upper arm. This seemed more polite than pointing. "This is Mrs. Davidson. She works downstairs."   He gently lead her back to the couch.  "The stiff is Mike Newton. Owns the joint."  He walked across the office to the water cooler and filled another dixie cup as he spoke. "Jess- erm.. Mrs Davidson took a lump on the head, and looks like she got hit with a stray bullet."   He handed the water out to Jessica, and sat down beside her. He crossed one leg across the other, giving Tony the floor.<br/><br/>Tony put on his sympathy face and went straight to work.<span style="color: #40FFFF">"I see..   Mrs. uh, Davidson? Can you tell me exactly what happened this morning?</span><br/>Jessica recanted the story like a trooper.<br/><span style="color: #FF00FF">"I can't really remember... I will tell as far as I can recall, though. I got to the bakery through the back door, as usual, at around five, give or take. Mike... Mr. Newton... was already in. He seemed to have just arrived and was starting the ovens. As we were exchanging greetings, I heard something behind me and started turning to see... then something hard hit me on the back of my head, and I didn't see what happened next, until I woke up, already wounded, and Mr. Newton was... dead... next to me."</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #40FFFF">How long have you worked at the Bakery?</span><br/><span style="color: #FF00FF">For about six months.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #40FFFF">How long have you known Michael Newton?</span><br/><span style="color: #FF00FF">For about the same time I have been working at the bakery.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #40FFFF">How well did you know him? Did you see him outside of work?</span><br/><span style="color: #FF00FF">I would say I knew him as well as anyone knows their coworkers. I knew a little about his family life, as we spent long moments working together at the back of the bakery, preparing everything for opening time. The only contact we had outside the bakery was our daily walk to my home. He always made a point to walk me there, so he knew I had gotten home safe.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #40FFFF">Did he have any enemies?</span><br/><span style="color: #FF00FF">I can't tell for sure, but I doubt it. Mike was an extremely kind and generous man.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #40FFFF">Had he been acting strange recently?</span><br/><span style="color: #FF00FF">Not to my knowledge. He seemed as always. Just a little more excited because business seemed to be looking up, but that was to be expected.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #40FFFF">Any strange or odd people frequent the bakery lately?</span><br/><span style="color: #FF00FF">Not that I recall. I believe I would have noticed, as we are really small and it's usually the same people who come in daily, other than the occasional lady placing an order for a special cake, which is rare.</span><br/><br/>Carl was proud of the way she handled the interview, after all she had been through.<br/><br/><span style="color: #80FFFF">One more thing, Mrs. Davidson. Do you know Mr Newton's family? anyopne we can, uh, contact?</span><br/><br/>Once Tony had gotten all his answers written down, he asked if she needed a ride to the hospital. Carl said he would take care of that.  Tony thanked Mrs. Davidson and Carl,  and said he'd be in touch. Then he went back down to the crime scene.