Ladies and Gentlemen the story you are about to read is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent and the producers.

It was Tuesday, November 21, we were working day watch out of the traffic division hit-and-run felony detail. My partner is Ben Smith, the boss is Captain Calfi Commander A.I.D. My name is Friday.

A young mother was struck down right in front of her pre-teen daughter by a speeding car. The woman was hurt badly. Her daughter was incoherent, crying by her mother when the ambulance showed up. My partner and I weren't far behind.

The hit-and-run driver escaped. We had to find him.

Act 1.

10:57 AM, we reached the scene. A woman in her thirties was lying on the floor. She was a mess. Her T-shirt and jeans were ripped and bloody. Her ponytail, tied with a rubber band was also bloody. One of her sneakers had been thrown off during the collision.

The young lady, who had been crying at her mother's side stood up. She was wearing a white blouse, a blue skirt, nude tights and blue flats. She had gold studs in her ears and a bob haircut. We escorted her a few steps away.

"It'll be OK, young lady. Let the paramedics take care of your mother."

"I've got to stay with my mother."

"Don't worry, she isn't going anywhere without you. We'll take you to the hospital, but while they are working on her, can I ask you some questions?"

"Do you have to do it now?"

"We want to do it while it's still fresh in your head. You want us to catch him don't you?"

"Yes."

"If this is too upsetting you can tell us to stop. But I hope you don't."

"I'll be alright. It's just the shock."

"What's your name?"

"Dorothy, Dorothy Kremshore. K-R-E-M-S-H-O-R-E."

"That's a pretty name."

"Thank you."

"What's your mother's name?"

"Rebecca Kremshore. Everyone calls her Becky."

"I see. Do you know your father's name and his phone number?"

"Yes, Laurence Kremshore. The phone number is 646-555-5903."

"Can you describe what happened?"

"We were walking down the street. We don't live very far from here. Mom was skipping up in front. Usually, she waits for me to take my hand before crossing the street. But this time I guess she forgot. The light was green. I could see that from where I was standing. I was about to call her. I didn't have time. She continued into the street when a car hit her."

"Can you describe the car?"

"It was a late model car. It was light blue or a bluish-green. It was a Ford; I could tell that. I saw the license plate, but I didn't get all the numbers, only the last three, '8-4-7'.

"Are you sure about the numbers?'

"It was '8-4-7' or '3-4-7'. One of those."

"Was there anything else about the car?"

"Yes, I recognized it."

"You did?"

"Yes, I'm sure I saw it at the doctor's office. That's where we were coming from."

"The doctor?"

"Yes, Dr. Zaaijer. I'm sure I saw that car in the parking lot at the office."

"It was there today?"

"No, not today. I didn't see it today. Not in the parking lot. But I've seen it in the parking lot at other times."

"Are you sure it was the same car? Not a car that looks similar."

"No, it was the same. I recognized the foxtail that was hanging on the radio antenna."

"You didn't say anything about a foxtail."

"It had one. I remember seeing it before."

"Do you remember anything else?"

"Yes, the man in the car was wearing a baseball cap."

"What type?"

"Just a cap. I didn't recognize any team."

"I see."

"Looks like they loaded your mother in the ambulance. We'll take you to the hospital and stay with you until your father comes."

"Thank you."