"Is there something I can do for you?"

"Exactly --" He looks at you. "But all in due time. Crypto-business is not a priority right now."

You'll see her again one day. You know it. Things went like they did for a reason.

Seeing the disappointment in your face, he relents. "Oh, fine, hero-cop. Lena left a forwarding address. 1113 Tabernacle Road, in Jamrock. If you see them again... do give them my best."

"Yeah, Cuno doesn't know what the fuck this is about, but you should chill down, pig. You'll get this Lena fuck. On false charges." He nods confidently.

"Okay. Yes. That was for the best."

He nods. "Yes. You know. And I went outside and took care of it. Everybody calmed down. Felt like the right thing to do."

He's almost completely forgotten what this began with.

"But we weren't done looking for the phasmid..."

"All right. Thanks." (Conclude.)

"No problem." He looks around at the empty establishment. "They'll come back. They always do."

"What happened to the man with the sunglasses?"

"I don't remember everyone who comes here." He shakes his head. "And -- many people wear sunglasses inside lately. Must be a fad."

"Okay, so I have to mention -- when it happened, you were right out there. On the balcony."

"Yeah, I was, yeah." He nods. Trying to remain aloof. "That's because I'm a bad ass."

It really took courage. Don't pick at him.

"If you say it as two different words like that, it sounds like there's something wrong with your ass."

"Yeah, well..." He scoffs. "Fuck you too then. You have any more questions, or stylistic pronunciation advice?"

He's not too offended. The experience has changed something in him.

Just nod -- stoically.

He nods back at you -- even more stoically.

Just two bad ass men nodding, stoically.

Make that three. The lieutenant is nodding too, hands crossed.

Make that three. Cuno is nodding too, hands crossed.

"Yeah, I guess you are a bad ass."

"Yeah, I don't know..." He feels the need to explain himself. "Clients were panicking. And also, I guess I sort of found out that I don't give a shit if I die."

He means it. It's not just boasting. It's something he discovered about himself, stepping onto that balcony.

"By the way -- where were you when it happened?"

"Where was I? How do you think I know the crazy shit you pulled off out there? I was there -- out on the balcony, protecting my establishment."

That's actually true. You remember him, from the corner of your eye, right behind you on the Whirling balcony...

"So yeah." He looks around, aloof. "I guess I'm what you call a bad ass."

"I have the tape now. You have to let me sing karaoke." (Give him the tape)

The man in the vest and the violet shirt stares at the tape you've just given him. He begins to frown. Hard.

This is the look of a man who's defeated. He knows he's out of excuses.

"Fine. Fine. Climb on that stage and do your thing, just get out of my hair." He shakes the tape at you. "I'll plug it in for you. Damn this karaoke machine..."

"I'm having it uninstalled," he mumbles to himself.

Oh yeah. Time to do the damage.

"Fine. Fine. After you've paid your bills you can climb that stage and do whatever the hell you need to do. After." He shakes the tape at you. "Damn this karaoke machine..."

"Did a package from Speedfreaks FM come for me?"

His eyes go wide with recognition. "Oh my god, the package -- I forgot, yes, yes it did arrive, when you were..." He stops, unsure how to continue.

He searches underneath the counter. After a moment, he produces a pair of neon sneakers, packaged in a plastic bag. A postage label directs it to the Whirling-in-Rags, to the 'Wildest Cop in Revachol'.

"The fuck?" pipes the boy. "Pig's selling out for Speedfreaks FM now?"

"I wish Kim could have been here. He really liked these guys."

His face moves between a sympathetic smile and a sincere frown. Unsure what to do, he covers his mouth with his hand and pretends to cough.

After a moment, he speaks. "Maybe you could send the shoes to him? In the hospital. Maybe it'd cheer him up. Do you know where he is?"

The lieutenant lies in recovery. Where he does so, however, is unknown.

"Yeah. Totally. I totally know. Of course."

He looks pained on your behalf.

Your liessss, sire! He seesss through them with a dissscerning eye of truth!

"Right... I'll tell you what. I'll find out if you like, and can send them on to him. What do you think?"

"Sounds good. Send it to Kim."

"Happy to help, officer. Anything else I can help you with?" He puts the package back under the counter.

"Thanks, Garte." (Take the shoes.)

He nods. "Happy to help, officer."

"I... I don't know what hospital he's in. I don't know where Kim is."

"Right..." He looks pained on your behalf. "I'll tell you what. I'll find out if you like, and can send them on to him. What do you think?"

"They actually did it..." The lieutenant stares in amazement at the package.

"Jealous, Kim?"

"It's not something I'd wear on the job." He smiles slightly.

"Good. Because it's finders keepers, sucker."

"Fair enough. Now if we're finished discussing this, can we return to solving the murder?" He struggles to keep his smile.