Conversation · Evrart Claire

"Mr. Du Bois! Every worker for himself, right?" He smiles a wide sly smile. "What can I do for you today?"

"Evrart, about the weasel..."

"Evrart, I'm going to leave now, but we might talk again later." [Leave.]

"See you soon, débardeur!" The big man raises his hand in farewell. "Just kidding. But not too much."

"Wait..." He leans reaches into his drawer and pulls out a plastic card. "You need this to get in and out through the gate."

"Is that a Union card? I already have one."

"It's wonderful that you've stolen a membership card, but this is a key card. You can't get out of the harbour without it."

"Great! Wouldn't want to get stuck in here."

"Here -- you're one of us now. A real red and white Union man. Take care, Harry."

"Um, thanks. I was wondering how I'm supposed to get out."

"It turns out the strikers are being served an alcoholic brew. I made it even stronger."

"I want to talk about the hanging."

"It turns out the strikers were being served an alcoholic brew. I stopped this madness."

"Could you help me get a dead body down from a tree?"

"I met a girl named Acele who said she's working with you."

"Funny..." The big man lets out a lazy yawn. "That doesn't ring any bells, Harry."

"Funny," the lieutenant says, looking up from his notebook. "She was trying to set up a narcotics operation in the old church on the coast."

"Oh, that Acele!" He taps his temple. "Yes, I do seem to remember sending a pretty young thing down there to liven up the place. Get some anodic music in there."

"Did you also tell her to start the amphetamine lab?"

"Amphetamine lab?" He seems taken aback. "That sound very immoral and debauched. Frankly a health risk."

"But what do I know about kids these days, the music they listen to, the drugs they do while they listen to that music..." He shakes his head with a melancholy smile.

"It sounds to me like you're trying to start an amphetamine lab in the district," the lieutenant says with an uncharacteristic note of contempt in his voice. "And you're using some delinquents you found god knows where to set it up and run it for you."

"'Found god knows where'?" The big man exhales loudly. "That Acele is the daughter of Mico the Kebab -- a man who once killed a guy with a kebab."

"I think a daughter of a man who killed a man with a kebab can handle running a little nightclub, don't you?"

"Mico the Kebab? Really?"

"Maybe it was Bogowir? Or Jakub?" He stares off into the distance, seemingly trying to remember something. "I think it might have been Konrad..."

Say nothing.

"I got it, Harry! It was Radogost. Radogost the Kebab." He smiles smugly. "But enough of Kojkos and kebabs. What else can I do for you?"

"I let them go on with their operation."

The lieutenant tilts his head but makes no comment.

"Well, you know how it is, Harry. Kids will be kids." He glances at the photo on his desk. "At her age, me and Edgar were getting drunk, sneaking out at night, throwing rocks at motor carriages..."

Throwing rocks at motor carriages isn't really the same thing as running a drug lab, is it?

"But anyway, don't let me drift away to memory lane." He adjusts himself in the chair. "Tell me how can I help you, Harry."

"Anyway, I shut down the amphetamine production, but let them go on with the nightclub plan."

"A nightclub..." He taps on his chin. "Harry, I'm an old fashioned guy. After work I like to listen to some rock and roll music and have a non-alcoholic lager. Nightclubs don't interest me."

"But here I am, talking about myself, when you have much more important things going on." His expression becomes serious. "Tell me, Harry, how can I help you?"

"Are you using some random kids to start an amphetamine lab?"

"'Random kids'?" The big man exhales loudly. "That there is the daughter of Mico the Kebab -- a man who once killed a guy with a kebab."

"Anodic music? Liven up the place? Yes, that checks out. Let's change the subject."

"Yes, Harry." The big man wriggles in his chair like a giant smiling caterpillar. "Let's talk about what's really important to you."

"Funny, she was trying to set up a narcotics operation in the old church on the coast."

"I'm looking for a cell of underground communists. Can you help me?"

"Mr. Du Bois, really. Do I look like a man who has time for underground communists? I'm as aboveground as it gets!"

That's a non sequitur if you've ever heard one!

"Let's drop the funny stuff. I'm trying to make contact with my revolutionary brethren."

"Sure thing, Harry. We're all business now. The answer is still 'no'. I'm a busy man, as you can see. I don't block off time on my schedule for 'underground' types..."

That note of contempt in his voice is sincere, sssire.

"You've already spoken with Mañana, as I understand. I'm afraid I don't have anything else for you on this subject..."

That's all you're going to get out of him, it appears.

"Now, was there anything else you wished to discuss today?"

"If you haven't spoken with my man Mañana yet, I'd suggest you start there. He's more in touch with what's happening at the ground level, so to speak..."

He's got you there. You've got to be 10 or 12 metres up, at least.

(Lie.) "I opened the door to your weasel's den."

"I may have changed my mind about getting those signatures."

"It's done. I mailed the signatures you asked me to mail."

"I'm ready for my gun now."

"I'm told the Union is involved in the local drug trade."

"What?!" He smacks his forehead, completely flabbergasted. "Harry... how could you say that to me? You know I appreciate a joke as much as any jolly fat guy, but I can't take slander. Are you actually investigating this?"

The reaction appears to be sincere, but... it's impossible to tell with this guy, honestly.

"I am." (Lie.)