It was late at night, around about twelve o'clock. The moon sat high on the horizon, a thousand stars scattered across the night, twinkling in the dark, blue sky. Daniel sat, nose deep in his files like always, he was working on the murder of Peter Borden case. On his desk, sitting beside him was a neatly drawn portraits of his victim, next to it, was all a notepad which held everything he had written the day he investigated the Leaky Cauldron. Surprisingly, he was taking it well after the event following the investigation of Peter Borden, when two strange men had attacked them unexpectedly. He began to wonder how must Aria be feeling right now, it was her first day yet he couldn't help, but feel sympathetic for her, she was probably wasn't expecting to be attacked that day. He made a mental note to ask how she was first thing tomorrow. He tossed the file he was holding onto the table with frustration, rubbing his eyes sorely. He began to feel edgy, he hadn't been able to work out anything in the last few days. Whoever this killer was, he went well out of his way to cover his tracks. There wasn't a shred of evidence, not even a strand of hair or a speck of grime and to make it worse, the two men he arrested refused to speak, no matter what he did.
"So did Peter have any enemies," He asked, looking up at Peter Borden's wife, paying no attention to the bawling heap of mess in front of him. "No, he has always been nice to people and they've always been nice to him. He wouldn't hurt a fly," sobbed Melissa, rubbing her red nose with the back of her hand. Daniel sighed, rolling his eyes at her and handed her his handkerchief before asking the next question. "Did he seem weird or acted different over the last few weeks before he died," he said, taking a sip of the tea she had made for him. "Now that I think of it, he did seem a bit edgy lately. We had a huge fight the night before, but other than that, he did seemed off to me," said Melissa in between sobs and hiccups.
Back in the office, Daniel was cleaning up his desk, feeling slightly better now he was organised. A much needed smoke was in order. He grabbed his packet of cigarette, his jacket and headed out the door. The cold wind whipped across his face as he took a step outside, lighting his cigarette. The sound of crackling tobacco was sweet in his ears, exhaling, he tossed his head backwards and sighed with contempt. He felt a bliss, there was nothing like a good smoke.