Inspector Jacobs looked at the young gentleman sitting
across him. Dressed immaculately in an expensive three piece suit. Armani,
perhaps. Or Hugo Boss. He has seen these suits in the Westfield but never dared
to try them. You cannot buy such a suit in a cop’s salary. He sighed. One day,
he thought. He looked his visitors in the eyes and said ‘So, Mr. Nikolakis, the
deceased was your younger brother?’ ‘Please, said the young gentleman,
Inspector Jacobs, call me Andrew.’ ‘He looked the Inspector deep in his eyes.
The Inspector felt a shiver, like Andrew’s eyes were reaching his soul.
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