"Are you shitting me, Harry? Did you not really open the door and are now just telling me…

"Oh, of course. That's your main thing here. That's why you're in Martinaise." He nods. "I know everything that goes on around here and I would love to discuss it with you."

"I mean, it's no secret that the lynching is connected to the strike -- so much to talk about! Honestly, it's been weighing on me so heavily. I understand -- you need to interview me..."

"I sense there's a but."

"Harry," the big man says with a tragic look on his face. "Had you asked me earlier, I could have used your help in dealing with a certain weasel. It would have really solidified our friendship."

"Sadly the moment has passed and the weasel's back in its den. Nothing to do about it now, so get this --" He points at you. "-- I'm just going to give you the information, because I like you, Harry."

There's probably more to that.

"Yes, let's talk about the murder."

"Fantastic! Time for men like me and you to figure out who's killed who and why." His fist lands on the desk. "Real police work is gonna start happening now. I promise you, Harry, this is gonna be good."

"Wait, who was the 'weasel'?"

"The time has passed, Harry. Were you not listening, when I just said that? Pay attention please." He wiggles his chubby index finger at you. "Now, do you want to hear about the hanging or not?"

"The weasel-thing sounds fun, wish I could have done that."

"Yes, that would have been the interesting way to do things. For both of us really. But you were too slow." His expression turns to compassion. "But do not despair over this minor hiccup, Harry. I will tell you about the murder."

"...but there's a thing that's been keeping me up at night. I want to talk about the hanging. I mean... if we could just calmly talk, exchange information, we could blow this thing wide open!"

"Yes. That sounds good," the lieutenant says with a slow nod. "Let's do that."

"But I can't think straight with this thing weighing on me..." He slaps himself on the forehead. "You're a police officer, aren't you? I have a crazy idea. You guys are basically door-opening machines. Incredibly talented at opening doors."

"Kim, is that true? Are we door-opening machines?"

"I'm not sure I understand." He looks to the Union boss. "If you're asking us to break down someone's door, it's not going to happen."

"Come now. I just need you to go open a little door for me -- and leave it unlocked. A simple thing. Absolutely nothing shady about it."

An excellent opportunity presents itself, sire! You could win the trust of the arch-liar, pretend to play into his hand -- then, should you wish, bend his efforts towards your own!

"What do you mean by a 'weasel'?"

"A loud blabbering weasel. When weasels feel no one is watching, they start acting foolishly..." He removes his glasses and rubs his nose.

"Just go there, unlock the door and leave it open. It's been such a burden on me, Harry. I just want this to be over so I can discuss business with you." He puts his glasses back on.

"Why don't you just open it yourself?"

"Harry, I'm a very busy man and, more importantly, I don't have that extraordinary physique you do." He slams his fists together. "You look like you could run around all day!"

"You want to send someone a message that the police are working for you."

"I repeat, I'm a very, very busy man, Mr. Kitsuragi, and therefore I must occasionally enlist... outside help." He turns back to you. "So what will it be, Harry?"

He wants to send a message: "Even the police are working for me."

"Whose door is it?"

"Oh, no one's. It's just a weasel. A weasel lives there. Nothing for you to worry about."

"I bet you don't even know anything about the hanging."

"Harry, my dear friend." He sinks deeper into the chair. "I am what people call a local big wig. I know everything that goes on in Martinaise."

"I can't accept this thing." (Refuse the task -- for now.)

"Of course, Harry, I understand. But if that's the case, I don't think we'll ever find your gun. Even worse -- we won't be able to speak like equals about the murder..."

"Perhaps this was just bad timing for you? Know that you can always come back to me. I really hope you do." He winks at you. "For your sake, my sake -- and for your gun's sake too."

The lieutenant sighs. "Yes -- we both understand what you meant."

This may be the only way, he thinks. I won't hold it against you. In fact, we probably should reconsider later.

"Sure. I understand. But if that's the case, I don't think we'll ever get to speak like equals. Beautiful friendship unrealized. I really hope you'll change your mind, Harry..."

"Damnit, fine, I'll look into it, we need to talk about that murder." (Accept the task.)

"Fantastic, my friend! Just let me know when it's done and we can take our friendship to the next level." He flicks his fingers.

"You can get the key from Mañana -- he's down by the gates. Mañana's like a free agent in the Union. Special operations. Hardened socialist. A real free-thinker too. He'll tell you precisely where the door is." He smiles, obviously satisfied with how well he planned it all out. "One last thing, Harry."

"Just open the door. You don't need to go in or anything. I just want that weasel to come home and see the unlocked door."

Does this jiggling ooze think he's going to use you? He's got another thing coming. Play his game, son, with your eyes peeled. He's going to slip up, and when he does -- you're going to come out on top.

Keep it cool, baby boy. You can use this, groove with this. Play along, let him throw his weight around -- and when he throws it too much, and you've got him off guard, that's when your trip him up.

The stars aligned into a cosmic frown here. He has your fate decided. Bide your time, however, and let the stars continue their course -- and that frown shall turn into a smile. Only if you play along...

"You've heard wrong Evrart. We're not."

"Oh, you're being too modest, my friend." He chuckles. "But don't worry. This annoying thing I have is completely legal. I just need you to open a door."

"I've opened a few doors in my life."

"And I'm sure you're gonna open this one with flying colours, Harry." He chuckles. "This really is very simple and there's nothing shady about it."

"Yes, let's blow it open."

Say nothing.

"A fantastic change of heart, Harry!" He rubs his nose. "Go talk to Mañana down by the gates. He'll brief you and give you the key."

And just like that, it's happening -- the roller coaster is moving. Too late to take it back now.

"Just open one little door. You don't need to go in or anything. I just want that weasel to come home and see the unlocked door. That's it. Anything else we should discuss?"

"You fucked up. You waited too long, the weasel came back, and now you can't open the door I asked you to open..." The big man looks you straight in the eye.

"Evrart forgives, Harry." A wide smile crosses his face. "Don't cry, my boy. It's gonna be alright. I'm still gonna tell you about the murder. That's just the way I am. Benevolent."

"I don't deserve that information, I didn't earn it..."

"Fucking weasel..."

"I thought I had more time..."