J. Bunbury

So it seemed the night wasn’t over, holding the man’s hand. “Seamus’ cousin, right? I remember you.” He replied before finally shaking his hand, “I’m Samuel Callahan, and I was expecting a return from the station, didn’t know you would return so soon but come on in.” He opened the door, allowing the man to get insire before he would close it, heading straight to his office. Everyone knew it was easy to see Samuel there for longer than he needed so it wasn’t a big deal.  “You can have a sit. Do you want a cup of coffee or anything before we start talking about it?”

“The one.” The mention of Seamus took Ernest by surprise, trying to put the two together but his memory was faltering—not like that was very rare lately, anyways. Some things just were harder to pick than others, especially if he had to dig deep into his brain, so he didn’t even bother trying to remember a Samuel Callahan from before, following the detective into the office and taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. “Water is fine.” He added, merely agreeing for a drink out of politeness and not really because he wanted any. “We filed the report on the case, I wrote it myself and signed it, pretty much everything there is to say, it’s there. What’s the lead on the investigation? How can I be of help?”