Conversation · Evrart Claire

Calls herself the Pigs? That sounds bad.

"She was waving it around at people?"

"As I said she's a character. I didn't have time for details." He smiles. "It sounds like she's unstable, but don't worry. No one got hurt."

It sounds like a very disturbed and desperate individual.

We might be looking at someone with a medical history here. Watch out.

Unstable is good, actually. She will be easier to disarm... no wait, actually unstable is pretty bad.

"Can you set up a meeting?" (Conclude.)

"I already have!" He holds out his index finger. "Tonight, starting 22.00. Near the old fish market on the coast -- the one on the boardwalk, a little past the fishing village. Be careful, Harry. I would never set you up for anything dangerous, but you did ask for this. Now..." He claps his hands. "Back to the fun stuff."

She will be there. From 22.00 till 02.00.

"More fun stuff..." He looks at you. "Seems like we already have fun stuff to do."

Is this the same woman who bought the gun from Roy?

"Is she the person who bought the gun from Roy?"

"How did this woman come to be in possession of the firearm?"

"Turns out she bought the gun from Roy, the local pawnbroker. And honestly, Harry..." He winks at you three times in quick succession. "I have no idea how your gun ended up in Roy's hands."

Uhm... because you pawned off your gun?

You pawned it off for liquor.

You pawned it, so you wouldn't shoot yourself in the head.

"It's good I sold it. I would've shot myself with it."

"Wild stuff, Harry. Absolutely wild. I'm not judging you. We all have our dark days. What matters is: Union men are gonna help you fix this." He smiles. "Anyway..."

"It was my fault. I pawned it off. I'm a terrible cop."

"Uhm, I think I needed money so I pawned my sidearm."

Stay silent.

"Someone must have stolen it from you while you were sleeping." He smiles. It's really friendly. "Anyway, the neighbours of this old lady contacted my men because they trust me and the Débardeurs Union. Apparently she was waving it around at the entrance to her building."

Waving the gun around. Doesn't sound good.

"How did this old woman get a hold of my gun?"

"You bastard!"

"Your gun is with an old woman," he says, absolutely unperturbed by your outburst. "I hear she's a character, so watch out."

"That's it for now." (Conclude.)

"Very nice, Harry. Is there anything else?"

"Great, Harry, great! I think we have truly built a bridge between Martinaise and Jamrock today. We have united the RCM and the Débardeurs' Union..." Suddenly there's sadness in his tone.

"This..." He points to you, then himself. "... has been so great. I'm sorry we don't have more fun things to do together, but if you ever feel like bouncing something off me, my door is always open."

"That's it?" He raises his eyebrows. "But you haven't asked about your gun yet. We have so much more to talk about."

"The golden boy returns once more! Wonderful -- simply wonderful, Harry." He claps his hands together like a child who's just been offered cotton candy. "Of course, I already knew this."

"My friend, the mail-man, confirms the letter is on its way. You've done a great thing today. You've given the children of Martinaise a real future. I feel I can finally trust you, Harry."

"You're in my inner circle. You too, Mr. Kitsuragi," he nods to the lieutenant, smiling broadly. "We can talk about anything: the strike, the murder, your lost gun -- nothing is off the table."

Oh, bratan, you played the old man like a three-string banjo. He has no idea.

Better not to gloat, sire. 'Tis arrogance that gives the play away. Be subtle.

You don't know his full plan. Perhaps he expected trickery? Perhaps the signatures weren't important? The point is: do not think you're ahead of him.

See, forging that signature really paid off.

Well done, sire. By guile and deceit, you're in.

Judging from how happy he is, it looks like you did it. He doesn't appear to suspect trickery.

Hear that? You did it the honest way. You got the real signatures and now he's happy. Well done.

I don't know... your dirty forgery-fingers aren't sure if playing this one straight was the right thing to do.

We would've preferred trickery, but the choice was yours, sire, as always. You are the liege. And you're in.

Finally -- answers. Ask away, son.

He leans forward and looks straight into your eyes with the warmest of smiles. "You're in my inner circle. We can talk about anything: the strike, the murder, your lost gun -- nothing is off the table."

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

"A few more questions about the harbour."