Conversation · Smoker on the Balcony

You see a young man on a balcony nursing a cigarette. His eyes have been following you for a while.

"Not looking for any trouble, officer..." he says in a quiet voice. Despite the cold, his shirt hangs unbuttoned on his frame.

It's the voice of someone who has something to hide my liege.

"Why are you whispering? It sounds like you're already in trouble."

"There's no trouble, I'm just speaking in a lowered voice," he says sotto voce.

"I don't want to be seen talking to the gendarmerie, if that's okay. I just want to finish my cigarette."

It's the God of Cigarettes and Youth -- ask him if he's got anything to spare.

Don't let him go! This could be your witness -- the balcony has a great view of the whole thing.

"Hold on... Can I at least have a cigarette?"

"Apologies, but this is my last one." He takes another drag and shivers.

The God Himself has denied you absolution.

"Can't you just like, toss that one down?"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"You're right, that was obviously a bad idea. Forget I said anything."

"As you wish." He takes another drag.

"Shut up and throw, kid!"

"I'm not throwing anything."

There's no way you'd catch that cigarette anyway.

What, really?

Yes, really. Don't even try. You'll just embarrass yourself.

"I need absolution!"

"Absolution? I don't know that brand, but I'm pretty sure you can get Astras at the Frittte."

"Actually, the police really needs to talk to you."

"Is it really that important?" he asks you, adjusting his shirt.

Like a nervous cat, he keeps stealing looks at the neighbouring windows.

"Alright, but make it quick. Once I finish this cigarette I have to run."

By god, this young man has the body of a decathlete. His lithe form was practically made for vaulting over the high bar!

"Alright, we'll talk later." [Leave.]

"No, we won't." He takes one last drag of his cigarette, before stubbing it out on the balcony.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I really need to get going."

Let him go. [Leave.]

"Good luck with the investigation."

"He's gone." The lieutenant puts away his notebook and turns to you.

"We should run after him, see where he went!"

"No point in running. Tenements like these often have multiple exits. If he doesn't want to talk to us, then he'll know how to hide himself."

"So we just give up?"

"He could be a witness, him or his Sunday friend. Either way we need to look into that muscular type who's asking about our case..."

"He did leave us a sign, did you see that? He wanted to draw our attention to that stone right over there." The lieutenant nods towards a small rock on a soggy patch of grass.

"If we find a way inside the building, we can ask around for his apartment."

"Great, let's do that." [Leave.]

"There has to be a way of getting inside the building -- let's go check out the door near the pier again. Once we've found the way in, we can ask around for his apartment."

"There has to be a way of getting inside the building. Once we've found the way in, we can ask around for his apartment."

"He could be a witness. And either way we need to look into that muscular type who's asking about our case..."

"He could be a witness, him or his Sunday friend. It's worth looking into..."

"He could be a witness. We shouldn't rule out the possibility..."

"You're right, he probably didn't have anything important to say anyway."

Convince him to stay.

This isn't the place or time for questions: Who knows who might be watching from the distance, hidden behind the curtains.

"Hey, listen..." (Lower your voice.) "I am just trying to make things okay again. Can we meet again somewhere else?"

For a moment the man on the balcony seems almost vulnerable. Something moves in the depths of his feline eyes: compassion, and a hint of understanding.

"I am sorry, but I really don't have the information you're looking for." His voice is soft and deliberate. With a flick of his wrist, he sends the cigarette butt sailing over the rail...

But hold on, what's that? For a split second his hand lingers... as though gesturing towards a stone placed right next to the front door...

It's a sign!

"Good luck with the investigation." He walks away.

Time to bring out your secret charm: tears and begging! Show him your emotional side, throw yourself before his very feet like a dog!

"What do you want from me? Do you want me to cry?! Huh?"

"No, for god's sake, I don't want you to cry!" He takes a quick step back and looks around, clearly disturbed.

"Listen, I really have to go." With a flick of his wrist he sends the extinguished cigarette sailing over the rail.

Ah, there it goes -- wasted! You would have gotten at least a few good drags out of it.

"Please don't go! I'll stop drinking, I'll... take the trash out, just... please don't leave me."