"Yes, yes, my best men are tracking it down. Some kids saw some other kids running away…

"Yes, yes, my best men are tracking it down. Some kids saw some other kids running away with it. Some folks said a paranoid schizophrenic might have it. Leads are being checked, Harry."

"What's that, Harry? You're getting a little pale. Is it the words paranoid schizophrenic and lost gun in one sentence? Don't worry, it's just a lead. It'll probably turn out to be nothing."

"Yes. Your lost gun." His face turns serious. "My best men are on it. They're turning every stone, searching every playground, asking kids, grandmas, everyone."

"Your gun will be found, Harry. Let me assure you of that." He winks at you. "It's just a matter of time and... effort."

The only way to find it seems to be working with him. He might even be holding your gun hostage...

"Wait... the gun may have been bought from Roy's pawn shop. Have your men factored that in?"

"Yes, thank you for the hot tip regarding your lost gun, Harry. My men have indeed" -- he makes air quotes -- "factored in that you pawned it."

"Now please... let the professionals do their job. Kick back, Harry, relax! I have great guys on this. You focus on what's important – building our relationship for the good of Martinaise."

It did not come as a surprise to him. He might actually not be bullshitting.

"I don't care about my gun. Keep it."

"'I don't care about my gun'..." he repeats. "I love it, Harry! Wish I could be like that. But I can't. I have a responsibility to this community. I can't have a loaded gun out in the streets."

"The officer is exaggerating," says the lieutenant, leaning forward. "Of course we care about the missing firearm, and we are actively looking for it as well."

The lieutenant is concerned about the lost gun and feels that the fact you haven't prioritized looking for it is unfortunate, if inevitable, and doesn't put the RCM in a good light.

"Excellent, Mr. Kitsuragi. That's excellent news." He claps his hands together. "Looks like we have a friendly gun-finding competition on our hands."

"'I don't care about my gun...'" he repeats. "I love it, Harry! Wish I could be like that. But I can't. I have a responsibility to this community. I can't have a loaded gun in the streets."

"Does this mean if I do things for you I will get my gun back?"

"Damn it, Harry, that's exactly what it means!"

He is not.

"Of course," the lieutenant replies dryly. "I understand. We help you -- you help us."

"I will not be blackmailed with this gun business."

"Harry, Harry -- I was only trying to be tactful. A lost gun is a dangerous thing. I can't have it around in my neighbourhood."

His tone is suddenly very serious. "Kids could be playing gun-roulette with it as we speak. Teenage gangs could be arming themselves. Get a hold of yourself, Harry!"

"I assure you, we are working on locating the missing sidearm as well."

It did not come as a surprise to him. He might actually not be bullshitting.

Hold on, could he really hold my gun hostage?

Who knows? Only one thing is certain: If you work with him, you're going to get it back, and working with him might be the only way to do it.