Awful lonely here. No ruckus. No old men playing their little ball game.

Awful lonely here. No ruckus. No old men playing their little ball game.

Yeah, where did the old guys go?

"You mean the guys who were playing pétanque?"

"Yeah, where did they go?"

"Have you noticed people sometimes appear and disappear in places? It's called doing things."

"Wait, maybe they died during the mercenary tribunal?"

"They didn't," the lieutenant calms you. "Trust me. I saw the bodies."

"Damn, I missed asking these guys about the dried May bells."

"Don't beat yourself up about it. I think I gave you a pretty exhaustive answer about those flowers and what they mean."

Enough with the goddamn flowers already! Are you a cop or a florist?

It was probably nothing anyway. Just a little thought you had.

Still you can't shake the feeling that somehow these may bell do actually matter. If only a little bit.

No need to beat yourself down over it. It probably wasn't the definitive piece of the puzzle. Still, somehow it feels like May bells matter somehow.

"But what if I wanted to talk to them?"

"You'll get them next time," the lieutenant replies, looking at the empty crater.

"And, I mean... it would be one twist too many if it turned out these two old men were our killers. That's just unlikely. No..." He seems pleased with himself. "We would only have wasted our time here."

The lieutenant is thinking of all the time you've spared. He likes it.

He's probably right.

You'll get them next time. But let's be honest, they weren't even in the suspects list.

You would have wasted so much time talking to these two pensioners. Precious case-time.

It's very unlikely. Everyone scattered once the tribunal started. They're probably fine.

"Right. Let's move." [Leave.]

The pétanque players?

Yeah, where did they go?

Home? To work? To get something from somewhere? Who knows what people are doing when we're not looking.

That's just how craters are. [Discard thought.]