(an extract from a detective story)
"Sit down," Henderson said, sitting down in an armchair himself and looking at Logan. "What are you here for?"
"I understand you had a party last night," said Logan, a police officer.
"Yes," said Henderson. "Oh! I hope the neighbours haven't been complaining about the noise again. "
"Not that I know of," said Logan. "But a young girl, Fran, who came to the party hasn't been home yet."
"Fran!" said Henderson. "Yes, she was here. She left early, as I remember—about one o'clock. I happened to notice what the time was when she came to say goodbye. But nobody else left until about four in the morning."
Henderson looked quite relaxed.
"Did you know Clare?" asked Logan suddenly.
"Oh, God!" Henderson sat forward. "You don't think…the same thing has happened to Fran?"
"We're keeping an open mind," said Logan, watching him carefully, "but we're giving it our full attention."
"Well, yes. I can understand that," replied Henderson, getting comfortable in the armchair again.
"So," repeated Logan, "did you know Clare?"
"Well, sure. I knew who she was. But we never had anything to do with each other," said Henderson, giving Logan a big smile.
"Who else was at your party?" asked Logan.
"People from the university," said Henderson. "Students, teachers."
"David?" asked Grant, Logan's partner.
"Yes, David was here for a time," Henderson smiled again. "But he's not really a party animal. He probably left early."
"What do you mean, probably?" asked Grant. Henderson looked at Grant. Grant was sixty with thick black hair and large moustache. His clothes, as always, looked rather old: a blue jacket and grey trousers. He did not look much of a party animal either.
"Well, I don't check when my guests arrive and leave," said Henderson. "And some people just leave when they want to go home. They don't come and say goodbye. Anyway, sometimes I can be difficult to find." Again he looked at Logan, raised his eyebrows and gave her a big smile. "I sometimes end up in the bedroom."
