"Yes, who's calling?"

"Detective Inspector Taylor. Could you come down for a chat? It's about the death of Mr. Way."

"Oh, of course."

... If something goes wrong here, it's not her fault. That isn't comforting, but it's true. She'll go there, and tell them what she knows, and maybe it will help and maybe it will make things worse, but that's up to Inspector Taylor.

Detective Inspector Taylor has a crowded little office in Scotland Yard.

"Good morning, Miss Chu."

"Good morning, and pleased to meet you."

... That is not the correct social script here, is it?

"I want to reassure you that no one thinks you've done anything wrong. Are you aware of what happened to Mr. Way?"

"I heard this morning that he died. Stabbed, I think."

"In St. James' Park. You're the last person who talked to him before he died."

"...oh."

"Do you remember your conversation?"

"He talked about his latest composition, then asked me about what I was learning and I told him about the vascular system."

"Did he seem... upset in any way? Troubled?"

"Maybe? I didn't notice it at the time, but it's possible."

"Would you normally expect to notice?"

"I'd like to think I would?"

"Pardon me if this is invasive, but what is your relationship with Mr. Way?"

"We were close friends." It's kind of frustrating how that's a little unbelievable.

"Nothing romantic, or...?" He trails off.

"It wasn't like that at all."

"All right. Thank you, Miss Chu. We'll keep you updated if there's anything else you can do to help."

"And I'll let you know if I find anything relevant."

"I'm so sorry for your loss."

"I-- Thank you. For your sympathy."

And he walks her out of Scotland Yard and calls her a cab home.

She should probably get home, yes. Maybe even study a bit.