He stands there as he puffed a cigarette, the body of the murderer, lying there on the floor a few feet away from him, his face skinned, bloody, messy. Elliot stands there next to the window looking though the thin glass watching the cars pass by each other and the people walking on the sidewalk, a perfectly normal day like no other expect that a murder has happened just upstairs in the apartment at 202. Emotion has not laced in his face, his eyes blank, empty, dark. He continued puffing the cigarette, the silence evident expect a few car horns outside and sounds of speeding cars that fill the space.

Ask him a question..you might learn something.