5
JULY, 20 2014
A couple of hours after having held John Fredly’s dead body in his arms, Kurt Hammer sat in a dark glass building on General Vidal Street, more specifically the white interrogation room. Two young police officers wearing black caps pulled down onto their foreheads sat at the other side of a little table, with a microphone in front of them. Because Kurt didn't know much more than tourist-Spanish, the local police had spent an hour finding an officer who knew more than just English from elementary school.
Eventually, they found one, whom Kurt guessed had barely completed the police academy. Now she stood in a corner and translated the ongoing questions, she, too, with a cap pulled down hiding her face. She looked at them with tired, slightly almond-shaped Peruvian eyes.
"
