I don't know where the body is
I made a strange call today. A woman named Gina called the office looking for me and asking about a crime story I wrote Tuesday (“Two suspected drug pushers die in shootout”). Boy, I thought I was in trouble. As it turned out, she only wanted to know the whereabouts of one of the bodies. She said one of the men might be her brother. (The police described him to be a "notorious" drug dealer.) She sounded quite nice on the phone and spoke a bit of English. A little perturbed, but in control. We could have been talking about a lost key. Did the police say anything about identification marks? IDs? Wallets? Did I see the body? I said no to all questions. The man had been under surveillance for more than a month, I told her. Do you know where the bodies are now? she pressed. I told her the police did not tell me. I gave her the office number of the chief of police. Maybe they can help you, I said. She thanked me and hung up. I forgot to tell her how sorry I was.