Bosco and Ron approached the receptionist behind the wide marble counter. Taking out their badges, they held it up for the receptionist to view. Bosco smiled at her. "We're here to see Kevin Cheng. Is he around?"

"Please wait," she instructed softly as she dialed some numbers into the phone. After speaking for a few seconds into the receiver, she looked up to face them. "Please have a seat, he'll be out in a minute."

They didn't have long to wait. As they're about to make themselves comfortable in the waiting area, Kevin came out to greet them flashing a smile at Ron and a glare at Bosco. "Hello officers. How can I help you?"

Ron came forward to shake Kevin's hand. "Can we speak in private?"

Kevin eyed Bosco with dislike. "Sure. We'll talk in my office."

The two followed Kevin into a small office. Inside was nothing but a desk, an oversized chair behind that desk and two metal framed chairs. Unlike most lawyer's offices, which was lavished with framed certificates and wall arts, nothing decorated this room.

Kevin walked behind his desk and motioned for them to sit as well. "What can I do for you today?"

Ron spoke out first, "We're here to question you about Tracy Ip."

Without blinking an eye, Kevin asked, "What about her?"

Bosco stared at him with undisguised contempt. "She's dead."

Kevin looked at him with amusement. "Yeah and what does that have to do with me?"

Ron took out the crumbled photo and showed it to Kevin. "We found this at the crime scene."

Without looking at the photo, Kevin chuckled. "So this makes me a suspect?" he asked incrediously.

Ron placed the photo on the desk in front of Kevin's direct view. "No. But we just want to ask you a few questions."

Still without a glance at the photo, Kevin leaned back against his chair. "I'll give you 10 minutes of my time to answer any questions you have. Just 10 minutes. So make it short, simple and direct."

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Charmaine locked the doors to her apartment and made her way slowly to the elevator banks. She had been tossing and turning all night not being able to sleep. Her head ached and felt raw and dry. She felt congested everywhere. She must be coming down with the cold or maybe worse - the flu.

With effort, she managed to hit the down button and propped herself against the frame for support. In seconds, the elevator arrived and she dragged herself into it, leaning to the side with her eyes closed.

"Wait up," someone shouted as a foot stuck in between the closing doors. "Why Charmaine!"

Hearing the familiar voice, Charmaine quickly opened her eyes and saw Raymond standing less than a foot away from her. "What are you doing here?" she asked breathlessly.

Raymond noticed her half closed eyes, pale complexion and gently stated, "You don't look too good."

Charmaine rubbed and repeated, "What are you doing here?"

Raymond continued to watch her closely. "I live here."

Stunned, Charmaine looked up and met his gaze. "Since when?"

"Since last night." Suddenly he realized that she was the lady who lived across from him and it pleased him tremendously. "We're neighbors."

The elevator arrived on the floor of the lobby and Charmaine again slowly made her way out, feeling a bit lightheaded.

"You're Mrs. Chan's nephew?!" Charmaine asked struggling to catch her breath, which seems harder and harder by the minute.

Instead of responding with his usual flirting remarks, Raymond said firmly, "You really don't look so good. Why don't I take you to the doctor?" He moved towards her and took hold of her arm to assist her.

Removing his hand from her, Charmaine stepped back. "Thanks but I can take care of myself. All I need is to sleep it off."

Having enough of her nonsense, Raymond picked her up in his arms and carried her back into the elevator. "I'm taking you back upstairs."

Charmaine didn't have the strength to fight and she relaxed in his arms resting her head against his chest. She fell asleep during the short ride up to their floor.