Conversation · Volition

She nods.

"And his role in this strike was... what?"

"I think he was in a security detail. He was ex-military. Worked for Wild Pines; against the Union. We didn't discuss work much, if you know what I mean. But I understood it was dangerous."

"And you think they lynched him for it?"

"What did happen between you and the victim?"

"We partied."

"I don't get it. What do you mean partied?"

"We drank, sir..." She takes a sip of her coffee. "A lot. For weeks basically. We had that effect on each other -- we made each other drink harder. That's why I liked him."

"What else?"

"Stimulants. Speed also has that effect -- making you drink harder. And then drinking harder makes you do more speed. It's quite the combination. We also had sex."

Whoah. After so much drinking and drugs -- how did they manage it?

"You were lovers?"

"I guess you can say that, yes. A bit. Lovers is such an emotional word. But there was something there. We did enough drugs for there to be."

"How did you two meet?" The lieutenant's voice is quiet, calm.

"Downstairs." She taps on the roof with her 10 cm heel. "At the bar. He was on some sort of assignment -- a military man, as you probably know. Had a cool, scary scar."

She appears aloof, but that scar part... the scary is stressed and drawn out. What's that about? Apprehension?

With longing. She misses him.

"When was this?"

"A month ago? Something like that."

"How long ago was that?"

"About a month? Something like that."

"Understood."

"Mhm." She looks down at the yard.

"How did you meet?"

"Hold on. After so much drinking and drugs... how?"

"Untraditionally, officer." She puts out her Astra, but lights another one with its end first.

She's cold and strange. I'm not picking anything up here.

Your imagination starts whirring, whether you want it to or not.

"Were feelings involved?"

"A little. The drugs were good enough -- and we did enough of them."

"What else?"

"Suspect partied with victim. Write it down, Kim."

"You're being sarcastic."

"No, I'm literally satisfied with that answer."

"I'm not." He turns to the woman. "What was your relationship with the man they hanged?"

"I am. Care to elaborate, miss?"

"Wait... partied. Where have I heard that before?"

"A lot of partying going on."

From Titus. About her and Titus' relationship -- that's where you heard it.

"What kind of partying?" (Point to your bloated face.) "The kind I do?"

"With all due respect, sir, I think we partied a little harder than that."

"Harder than this?" (Keep pointing to your face.) "I didn't know it was physically possible."

"Oh, it is." She takes a long drag. "You're still alive."

"What did you do? When you partied?"

"What did you do? During these parties."

"No one parties harder than me."

"Please, you're alive and fifty! I've known people who party so hard they're dead at 14..." She stops to take a short drag.

"What no one does on your level is hitting the repeat button, I'll give you that. And maybe room-trashing."

"You mean like a birthday party?"

"Yes." She makes a twisting motion with her hands. "We made balloon animals, drank lemonade, inflated a bouncy castle."

"Did you rim the lemonade glasses with sugar? I like to do that."

"Yeah, I love that too!" Her voice is girlishly high-pitched now. "We frosted the glasses, I unwrapped my bike, there was a petting zoo with little white rabbits..."

"Really?"

"I would like it to have been that way. But... it wasn't."

"How was it?"

"How was it?"

"You're being sarcastic. That's not actually how you partied."

"It's not, sir. We drank alcohol. A lot of it. We had that effect on each other -- made each other drink harder."

"Thank you for telling us all of this, miss." (Conclude.)

"How about we, you know, change the subject to something more light-hearted now?"