Conversation · Washerwoman

Convince her to sign Evrart's document.

Logic and reason won't work on this old bat. Better go for shameless emotional manipulation. What's a grandmother's deepest vulnerability?

Does this feel like a good thing though?

The grandmother card will do the trick. Last chance to turn back.

"What's going to happen to the children?"

"What do you mean, 'what's going to happen'? They're gonna grow up, of course..."

"I raised my own kids in this village and they're doing fine for themselves."

"They didn't end up like the moribund alcoholics?" (Point to the drunks.)

"No! They're good kids. I brought them up the right way." There's a note of defiance in her voice.

"Are they here now?"

"No..." the old woman says, her cloudy eyes darting sideways. "They moved to Faubourg for work."

"And what do you think Lilienne's kids are going to do when they grow up?"

"Well, I imagine they'll grow up and leave, too."

You've got her. Now just reel 'er in.

"And then what?"

"Then..." the old woman exhales. She stares at the ground, unable to finish the thought.

You have her! Now twist the knife...

Wait -- Let her come to it herself.

Say nothing.

"I don't believe the fat man's youth centre is gonna change anything. But what other choice do we have? It's not like the Coalition Government is coming to save us..."

"I won't be around much longer, anyway. Not with the dampness in my bones." She looks at her knees. "If they want to take a chance, who am I to stop them?"

"You've got to put the kids first."

"Aye, we do... we do..." A hint of sadness passes through her face. "But how do we do that?"

"Will you sign the papers? Right where the squiggly line is. For the children?" (Hand her the documents.)

"Fine," she mutters. Grabbing a pen from inside her apron pocket, she scribbles her name on the dotted line and hands the document back to you.

"See that you didn't just get us all screwed. I might be half-blind, but I have a good memory for treachery."

The lieutenant gives you a look and sighs. "Let's go mail it."

He's not dissatisfied with you, but with himself.

"You can start by signing these papers. Where the squiggly line is. I've got a pen right here." (Hand her the documents.)

Reluctantly, she takes the pen from your hand, scribbles her name on the line, and hands everything back to you.

"You can start by signing these papers. I've got a pen right here." (Hand her the documents.)

"Will you sign the papers? For the children?" (Hand her the documents.)

Nod.

"Did you say something?" She squints at you.

Shake your head.

"Look, this village isn't what it used to be. It's a dilapidated shit hole."

"You watch your tongue, boy. This village has held up much better than some people." Even with her cataracts she can pierce right through you.

Damn, that's cold.

"That doesn't mean you're wrong though," she sighs. "This place ain't what it used to be, even I can see that..."

"You must be so proud."

"Aye, they're good kids. I brought them up the right way." There's a touch of pride in her voice.

I'm gonna find another way. (Don't get her signature.)

Damn, you almost had it. What was this -- a pang of conscience?

Like ocean waves shaping the coastline, you will wear her down. Pebble by pebble. Just be persistent.

"Isobel, you must understand, this place needs that construction project."

"I've heard that pitch before plenty. 'Building this, building that, new jobs, new blood...'" She shakes her head in disdain. "Somehow the people here always end up holding the short end of the stick."

"Evrart gave me five reál, he could easily give you fifteen. Or even fifty?"

"Were you dropped on the head as a kid? You can't live off a pittance for long..."

"Save your breath, officer. This deal isn't going anywhere. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got this whole bucket-full of rags to finish. That's my job. Maybe you should do yours?"

"We really should focus on some actual leads..." The lieutenant looks around uncomfortably. "Negotiating real estate deals isn't our main thing."

You know, there could be another way. You'll need to go some place private and discreet, though... like your shack.

Talk to me, Itchy Fingers? What's the plan?

Forging the signatures, of course. Was that not obvious?

I'm not forging anything. It's dishonourable. And illegal.

Oh yes... of course. And illegal too! Forget it!

The virtue you exhibit in even the most difficult of moral dilemmas, speaks of the purest of heart and soul. Soon it will be time for another Arch.

No, I don't wanna resort to forgery.

Your call, chief.

Okay, forgery it is.

It will be good, I promise.