Conversation · Klaasje (Miss Oranje Disco Dancer)

"Ruby. You know. The leader."

"The leader? Of what?"

"The Hardie boys," she says as if it's self-evident.

"I thought Hardie was the leader of the Hardie boys."

"Well. Nominally yes. Ruby's the one they go to when things happen. Like, things they need taken care of. She's the organizer."

This Ruby, in her phrasing, is entrusted with great power. She trusts her. So do the others.

"Would you say she is the..." He looks at you. "Eighth Hardie boy?"

"Why not."

Does she also party with Ruby, however?

Better not to.

What are you trying to be -- tactful? She wouldn't mind. Go on then...

"Did you party with Ruby too?"

"No..." She smiles nervously. The beads of her teeth shine.

Still -- there is something there. She won't tell you now.

"Would you say she is... the eighth Hardie boy?"

"Leader? Of what?"

Let's go on, what are you talking about? Did you forget how to cop? There's a new actor in the investigation -- change the question immediately!

I can't restrain this one. The need to cop is too strong. You just need to ask it.

"Before we continue -- who is Ruby?"

I don't understand what you're doing detective -- go on? A new name just emerged -- Ruby! This is important. Change the question immediately.

"I think we're done here -- for now." (Conclude.)

She nods silently, then picks up the cold coffee and holds it in her hands.

She nods, silently. She doesn't even smoke, just picks up the cold coffee and holds it in her hands.

"Uhm..." The lieutenant glances at you -- then at the door.

He's thinking -- are we done here?

...or should we arrest her? She's a flight risk and she lied to you -- she should be taken into custody.

No. That won't be necessary. Just leave her alone, she's been through enough. She doesn't need this... police brutality.

This guy won't budge. You have to wake Multi-Face up -- forcefully -- if you want to continue pushing her.

Multi-Face! I'm beginning to doubt your judgement -- are you sure you're not sleeping on the post? You have to wake this one up -- with force -- if you want to continue pushing her.

...or maybe you should take her to the station? For safekeeping. She lied to you. And she's a flight risk.

He's thinking -- are we done here, or...?

You're not done. She's a flight risk and she lied to you -- wake up, man.

You're not done. She lied to you. And she's a flight risk -- wake up, man.

"You said you studied Oranjese lit. What is with this fugitive stuff?"

"I did -- I also had a side job selling insurance that I was really good at. Got picked up by a bank. Competitive intelligence, they called it."

"After that I sort of..." She smiles. "Transitioned out of the whole culture scene."

"When was the window changed?" (Point to it.)

"Last week. Angus and Titus's brother -- I think he's called Tibbs -- took care of it." She takes a drag. "I told you I'm a horrible girl. I told you things break around me."

You should have another look at that window after this -- reconstruct the scene. It's right there.

Not now...

Still you see the glass sparkling out of the corner of your eye...

In her bedroom, inside?

Yes -- you see the glass sparkling out of the corner of your eye...

You should have a look at that window -- reconstruct the scene. It's right here, so near...

"Last week. Angus and Titus's brother -- I think he's called Tibbs -- took care of it." She takes a drag.

"What happened here -- the night he died?"

"We were there." She points to the window -- the silhouette of the bed is visible. "Together. In bed, I mean."

"Tell me exactly what happened."

"Okay..." She takes a deep breath. "He was in a kneeling position, he had just entered me. I was on my back, looking at him. I heard the window behind me shatter and I turned to look -- there was a hole in the glass..."

"I turned back to him." She breathes out. A moment's silence. "His eyes were looking through me and his mouth was open, dumb... I could see... I could..."

A great pain moves through her, a dark and indefinite wave. She continues in spite of it.

"I knew he was dead. Before he fell down on top of me."

You were right. He did enjoy the moment of his death.

"The occult vision was right. He was enjoying the moment of his death."

"I don't..." She squints. "How did you know that?"

You asked her before if he enjoyed it! She avoided it. How did I not discern it was a lie?

You know how.

"He just had a hunch. Detectives have those sometimes."

Another hit. The lieutenant looks at you -- in acknowledgement.

"Then what happened?"