Blackberry Heights was a 10 floor apartment complex that stood at the corner of Applecross Road and 7^th Avenue. Although it was an old building born from brick and mortar, one of the selling point about the place was that each unit would look fundamentally different in material. Some rooms have polished wooden floors, concrete walls, or even the whole unit were made out of faux marble to give it a classy look.

Constable Jenny and Constable Jackson exited the elevator at floor 5 and looked around. The halls were wide and spacious, each end of the hall had three doors leading to their respective apartments.

“So!” Jackson looked between both hallways, eyeing their apartment numbers, “Why are we here again?”

“To get an interview from Mr. Tucker,” Jenny sighed while adjusting her jean jacket, “Leo said the husband was too distraught to get anything out of him after the visiting the morgue. The sergeant wants us to get as much information as possible, as well as the husband’s alibi.” Jenny perked her head up, tapping a fist into her palm with an, “Ah right. And to gather DNA samples from the Tucker residence. Hair, tooth brush, anything.”

“Why bother? Didn’t the guy confirm the body was his wife?”

“Leo told me he had doubts. He wanted to be extra sure. Forensics sure.”

Jackson rolled his eyes and plucked his fedora to give it a playful spin, “Got to hand it to the Sarge. Always paranoid, 10/10.” He then tossed his hat back onto his head and make texting gestures with his thumbs, “Comment on Yelp: would ask for conspiracy theories again.”

Jenny frowned with a disappointed stare, “If McLamb said that, I would understand. But you and I know Leo long enough to figure out how he thinks. If the sergeant asked us to get evidence to confirm a doubt, we will do so.”

“Alright. Alright. But I’m telling you all this triple checking is a waste of tax payers mon—SWEET JESUS!”

A door right next to Jackson suddenly swung open, startling him hard enough for his hat to fall off. After picking up his fedora, the Constable would see a figure walking out of the open door. “...Wait you’re him. Frank Tucker.”

“Who are you?” Mr. Tucker paused before he could close his door. He took one cautious step back, before Jenny stepped into his vision, “Oh you’re the officer lady the other day at the forensics building. Uuuh...Jasmine.”

“Constable Jenny, C.I.D.” Jenny cleared her throat, ignoring her partner’s snickers, “This is Constable Jackson, we are the same investigation team as Sergeant Leo and Constable McLamb you met previously. We hope to take your interview today.”

“By the way,” Jackson finished his chuckle and gave Mr. Tucker a look over, “Uuuuh. You look...awfully sharp in that suit. Party?”

Mr. Tucker shook his head. He adjusted his well pressed suit with a hesitant tug and hefted a heavy looking leather briefcase in one hand, “No. I’m heading out to work. I own a furniture factory.”

“...Dude, you just saw your wife’s dead body yesterday.”

“Ja—! ” Jenny slapped Jackson in the arm, shooting a glare at him. She then turned to the husband to bow, “I-I am so sorry for my partner’s rudeness!”

Mr. Tucker fell silent from their words, his eyes glancing between them. He ended up staring at a wall nearby, the Adam’s apple in his throat bobbing, “Yes, I know. My wife is gone. I still can’t believe it to be true. B..but I still have over 80 employees and we’re hitting a rough time.” Mr. Tucker took a moment to rub his mouth and jaw with a sigh, “Ever since Sarah disappeared, I had been absent from work. Now that you found her, I have to return to my duties. They need my leadership.”

Both officers exchanged subtle glances at each other. Just as Jackson opened his mouth, Jenny intercepted with, “I am sorry, for your loss. We hope you could spare a moment for some questions.”

“Uh. Erm...Alright yes. I can. Come in. Watch your step.” Mr. Tucker would nod and opened the door to his apartment, ushering them in.