Try, Try Again

No sooner did the tape end than Martin grabbed his coat and went to the police department. Cold night wind biting at his exposed face, he mounted the stairs and threw the door open. Snow and ice followed in his wake as he approached the secretary's desk. She looked at him over her horn rimmed glasses.

"May I help you sir?" Her voice was high-pitched and nasally, the stereotypical secretary that you would see in plays.

"I hope so. I need to speak to either Sergeant Nielson or the Sheriff, now." He replied with a tone of urgency. 

"I'm sorry sir, they've already gone home for the night. Is this an emergency?" Her voice had taken on the lifelessness of an emergency operator.

"No, it's not an emergency, but I have a clue for a case I'm working on that they really need to know about."

"Well, sir, I can give them a call if you'd like. Who should I say is calling?" The secretary picked up the phone and began dialing.

"Martin Elwood."

As she finished dialing the number, she looked him over. "Ya know, you're a bit of a celebrity around here. Ever since you cracked that gambling den over in Rockwell C- Oh, yes sir, this is Barbara at the department. I was calling because I have Martin Elwood here saying he found something out regarding the case he's on."

Silence.

"Yes, sir."

Silence.

"Okay, sir." She hung up the phone. "Sergeant Nielson said he'll be here in fifteen minutes. But like I was saying; impressive work on that R C bust." 

"Thank you, it wasn't an easy case, though."

"I can imagine." 

Small talk continued until Nielson finally walked through the door, in casual clothes. "This had better be good, Elwood."

"Well, you know how you said that interview didn't really give us much? It gave me enough evidence to bring John back in for questioning." Martin said.

"Oh? And what might this 'evidence' be?" The Sergeant crossed his arms and looked at Martin with an eyebrow arched.

"In the interview, when asked about what he saw, MacPherson claimed that he saw blood dripping into the road from the body. However, when we were at the scene, there was no blood anywhere to be seen. So either he's lying, or somebody cleaned all the blood from the crime scene while he called us." 

Nielson's arms came unfolded and were now limp at his sides as he stood there. His expression was unreadable. "Fine, we'll bring him back in. I'll let you question him this time, though." His voice was flat as he replied. "It'll be a couple hours before we can bring him in, however. So sit tight, I'll make the necessary calls, and we'll have him soon." With that, Nielson walked towards his office.