"Wow, pal, you sure are lucky, all those guns and not a single bullet hit your head."
A bald black man with sunglasses, dressed in West Coast tight beach shorts and wearing a gold chain as thick as a thumb, flashed a mouth full of gold teeth in the sunlight.
This was the forensic officer sent from NW, a man who made a strong first impression.
Brian glanced at his watch and said in surprise, "Are you going to gather evidence with your eyes?"
"Aren't eyes enough?"
The black man spoke with rhythm, "Right, I'm Bradgreen Ethan, Second Level Staff from the Internal Affairs..., in charge of dealing with your attack incident. You've got some serious strength, buddy. These guys died quickly. Any suspects?"
The guy's name took him a solid ten seconds to say.
Brian nodded, "Okay, Gold Teeth, the suspect should be a board member from the Los Angeles Red Cross Blood Center. His name is Jonathan Armstrong, but I was pretty angry when I acted, I didn't leave any survivors."
"Gold Teeth?"
