The next morning, Detective Jude left a massage for us to meet him in sharp’s office at the Hall Of Fame.
Something had comeback on the film.
In a sparsely decorated conference room, the museum’s security chief, Jude, and several members of the CPD Homicide staff sat facing a wide-screen video monitor on a walnut cabinet.
“At first,” sharp began self-importantly, “ we were just randomly going through the tape with members of the families, stopping on anyone who didn’t look familiar. Your sketch,” he turned to me, “helped narrow it down.”
He flicked a handheld controller toward the screen, the gist clip you are going to see are the main entrance,” the screen lit up, standard black-and-white surveillance footage. It was so wired and strange. Several gaudily dresses guests seemed to be ar
