Run: 2024-10-01-01J94RACV76CQTXWH8XFQDF414

Hunter approached Marie, sitting under the umbrella of the cafe, with her black portfolio in her hand. She seemed to be looking intensely at something inside. "Hey miss, hope I'm not interrupting anything," Hunter began, his voice firm but polite. "I'm Detective Hunter. I'm just wondering if you heard about what happened at the festival this morning?" Marie looked up with a troubled expression, her brow furrowed. "Comment?" she asked softly, unaware that the detective did not understand a word of French. "About the incident at the festival," Hunter repeated, enunciating deliberately. "Did you see anything strange there?" Silence hung in the air as Marie continued to stare at Hunter uncomprehendingly for a moment. Then she shook her head. "Non et non, m'sieur," she replied hesitantly, not sure what else to do. Hunter furrowed his brow as well, scratched the back of his head and looked around as if to find someone else to translate. He tried again. "Can you tell me where you were this morning between 11 and 12?" Marie continued to look questioning and troubled. Mentally she translate the question to: "Où étiez-vous ce matin entre 11 et 12?" Her eyes briefly scanned the street, searching for an answer. Paris! She remembered. The morning was spent taking pictures of the Basilica du Sacré-Cœur. "Paris," she said finally, still speaking in French. The detective became increasingly frustrated and confusing by the lack of communication between them. He asked a few more questions, Signature conce silly, aware that they could not understand each other. After a while Hunter's mobile phone rang. He picked up and turned his back to port, but the sound was audible in a city that didn't usually reach. Throw. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, nods, grows, good grunted. Then he pocketed the phone, threw Marie a quick glance and a brief "Sorry, it was-" before heading back to port without any explanation. Marie was left alone, her brow still furrowed. Mais qu'est-ce que c'était que sa? she wondered to herself in asked out lout. Why was that detective interrogating her like she had something to do with the incident? Perhaps taking pictures of the Basilica was not the best idea, she concluded, putting her camera away. Why didn't they tell her the Basilica was off limits to photographers? That detective seemed quite agitated. Whatever, she had her own agenda to follow.