Conversation · Jean Vicquemare

"Detective -- please. Don't start talking about your pheromones again. This is serious. If you don't..." She doesn't finish the sentence.

Then you'll be fired. This is a hearing -- toughen up.

"I'm sorry I smell bad. It's been a bit of a week."

"A bit of a week?" He squints. "You're drunk. And you let a suspect escape -- a certain Klaasje. Because you were you too drunk to assess her flight risk."

"We've read the reports, Harry. Lieutenant Kitsuragi's. We know."

"A bit of a week?" He squints. "You let a suspect escape -- a certain Ruby. You let her escape because you were too drunk to take her in."

"We've read the reports, Harry. Lieutenant Kitsuragi's. We know."

"A bit of a week?" He squints. "You're drunk. You let the suspect shoot herself in the head. You went in drunk and intimidated her."

"We've read the reports, Harry. Lieutenant Kitsuragi's. We know."

"Wait, what smell?! I didn't even get close to the damn corpse and I still solved the case. That's how good I am."

From the way he covers his nose you can tell the satellite-officer is still fixated on the smell and not your incredible achievement.

"Hold on, I just haven't washed myself after the autopsy..."

Without a reply the satellite-officer covers his nose.

"I've handled an actual corpse."

"I don't believe you." He squints. "You're drunk. You let a suspect escape -- a certain Klaasje. Because you were you too drunk to assess her flight risk."

"We've read the reports, Harry. Lieutenant Kitsuragi's. We know."

"I don't believe you." He squints. "You're drunk. You let a suspect escape -- a certain Ruby. Because you were too drunk to take her in."

"We've read the reports, Harry. Lieutenant Kitsuragi's. We know."

"I don't believe you." He squints. "You're drunk. You made a suspect shoot herself in the head. You went in drunk and intimidated her."

"We've read the reports, Harry. Lieutenant Kitsuragi's. We know."

"He's wounded." He looks at you. "It's been a long week -- and he's handled an actual corpse."

"Aw, c'mon, you gotta cut him some slack. Pig's been working hard. Digging through the guts of corpses and shit. Getting shot and shit."

"So what? I've had a little drink."

"A little drink?! You smell like a corpse. I'm downwind and I can barely breathe." He covers his nose. "You smell like shit."

"You let a suspect escape, Harry -- Klaasje-something. Because you were too drunk to assess her flight risk."

"We've read the reports. Lieutenant Kitsuragi's. We know."

"Is that why you let a suspect escape -- Ruby-something? Because you were too fucking drunk to take her in?"

"We've read the reports. Lieutenant Kitsuragi's. We know."

"Is that why a suspect shot herself in the head -- Ruby-something? Under the boardwalk? You went in drunk and intimidated her?"

"We've read the reports. Lieutenant Kitsuragi's. We know."

"I tried not to, but I can't work as well without it."

"Well? You let the suspect escape! Klaasje-something. Because you were too drunk to assess her flight risk."

"Well? Harry, you let the suspect escape -- Ruby-something. You were too drunk to take her in, weren't you? "

"Well?! A suspect shot herself in the head, Harry. I know what you did -- you went in drunk and intimidated her, didn't you!?"

"I'm not drunk. I haven't started drinking again!" (Lie.)

"So you... forgot to drink? I don't buy it. Why do you smell like a corpse then?"

"I didn't lose my gun, I have my gun!" (Show him the gun.)

"We're not talking about the fucking gun anymore -- we're talking about the vaporized cloud of ethanol coming from your mouth."

This is so unfair. He knows you have the gun and still he's punishing you.

"Yeah I'm drunk! I'm also on drugs."

"Who are you posing for, huh? A suspect escaped, Harry. Klaasje-something. Because you were too high to assess her flight risk."

"Who are you posing for, Harry? You let the suspect escape -- a certain Ruby. You were too fucking high to take her in, weren't you?"

"A woman shot herself -- in the head. Because you went in high and intimidated her, didn't you!? Ruby-something? You basically killed her yourself."

"I quit drinking. Forever. It's only me in this boring hell hole now."

"I don't buy it. Why do you smell like a corpse then? Huh?"

"Gun. Gun..." (Just repeat gun.)

"Yeah -- gun. The thing that was given to you to kill people."

"Gun? Behold all my guns. If anything, I need more hands!" (Show him your two pistols and two rifles.)

"I don't care about your collection, you hoarding freak." He waves your arsenal away without looking. "Is one of them your service weapon? I only want to know about that one gun."

"What?! These are great guns. Superior to my sidearm any day."

"Shut up! Show me your sidearm, or fuck off."

"Yeah, yeah, I got that." (Show him the boring sidearm.)

"Whooh. He has it -- and he didn't drop it." He wipes his brow in mock relief. "You're drunk like a bum, Harry. Put that thing away before you kill someone."

"Whooh. He has it -- I thought it was in the ocean..." He wipes his brow in mock relief. "You're drunk like a bum, Harry. Put that thing away before you kill someone."

"I don't have that one. I don't have my sidearm." (Lie.)

"I knew it. I told you he wouldn't have it."

"This isn't cause for celebration. It's... bad."

"Oh, I would say it's very bad." He turns to you. "You're drunk like a bum, Harry. Please put the gun collection away before you kill someone."

"I lost my gun. And I didn't find it. It's gone."

"Did you check the local pawnshop? Because I did -- and you're not gonna believe it, but you sold the pawnbroker a Villiers 9mm pistol -- to pay for booze!"