Fred Jones dropped his wallet near the crime scene. I went to his home, but he wasn't at home. His neighbor told me that he was a widower, and had been somewhat withdrawn since his wife's death. She told me that he was a principal at a high school in Torrance, CA.
Torrance is a large beach city in Southwest Los Angeles County. It has a population of approximately 125,000. It's the fourth largest city in Los Angeles County, and it's family friendly.
I arrived at the office, but just told her that Mr. Jones' wallet had been found, and I just wanted to inform him. She buzzed me in.
Mr. Jones was in his late fifties, a little young to be widowed, I thought. He seemed mild mannered, but you never know. I asked him how he came about being in that part of town. He broke down. Admitted he was lonely and followed a dancer for a block or two in the rain, offering her a ride home - yes, he was being a pest, but he had been drinking. What was it, had she pressed harassment charges against him?
No, she was murdered, I said. He buried his face in his hands as if he couldn't believe it. "You don't think I did it, do you?" he asked. He swore she was alive when he last left her. I said, no, he wasn't yet a suspect, but I was just trying to get to get some information to help solve the crime. I don't know if he believed me. I don't know if he killed the victim, but I don't believe him when he said she was alive the last he saw of her.
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