What would you say?

So we met up with Fred at his place as instructed - we found him lying in a pool of his own blood in the kitchen. That bastard took his own life when Judy was out of town and left us to clean up the mess.

"Tell me what he looked like." After an uneasy minute of silence and several polite sips off her gold rimmed china, Judy asked.

Stop - what are you going to say?

Tell the truth? There was blood all over the place. Ask Pete, he stepped on a piece of his skull and we've to help him scrape it off, and boy, don't even get me started with that gaping hole on his head.

Flat out lie? He looked so peaceful, like a baby sleeping.

Shy away? The important thing is, he is in a better place now.

Not my problem? Buzz. I am sorry I have to take this call, Pete, why don't you...

What would you say?