Chapter hundred twenty

Aaron, oblivious to the chilly night air and the snow that had to fall in light torrents, listened with rapt attention to what the inspector had to share. “So you are saying harmful objects were forced down his throat? This makes no sense, inspector.”

Aaron, perplexed and utterly confused at how gruesome the young man had to die, wondered to himself why his body was dumped in his home.

“Were you able to identify the body?” He asked the inspector who was on his second stick. The chilly night air is enough reason to puff out the chill. “Julian Sullivan, an Italian immigrant, twenty-eight years old and fresh out of college. He had a promising future,” it was too bad, to say the least, that he died an early death.

Aaron helped himself to the cigarette that was offered to him earlier.

He barely smoked, but the situation called for it. “Who do you think is the culprit, Mr. Suarez?” He was the inspector here and knew better how to fix the mystery puzzle.

Suarez crushed his cigarette butt
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