"I'm looking for any information that you can provide on Billie Méjean, a reader."

"I'm looking for any information that you can provide on Billie Méjean, a reader."

"Billie, Billie Méjean, you said? Give me a moment, I'll have to check our database." He puts down the receiver.

"..."

"..."

"..."

On Meroe drive in Central Jamrock -- in a darkened hall lit by orange desk lamps -- far away from the noise outside -- a middle-aged man taps commands into an old radiocomputer. A printout falls on the desk. Behind him, a lonely reader scours some dusty bookshelves, looking for a paperback...

"Yes, hello, are you still there?" You can hear him fiddle with the printout. "I found Billie Méjean's home address, is that alright? No phone number unfortunately."

They're too poor to have a phone line.

"Yes, home address is fine."

"Here we go, sir: Rue de Saint-Ghislaine 33B, apartment no 20. It's in Martinaise, I believe... Capeside Apartments, it says. That's all."

That's where the smoker on the balcony lives, isn't it?

"Thank you. That's all from me, I have no other questions." (End call with the library.)

"Happy we could help. Good bye, officer." The librarian hangs up and the call gets redirected back to the station.

"Anything else you need from me?" Alice asks.

"Do you have any other information on Billie Méjean?"

"It says here that they returned their last book just a few days ago, but I wasn't at work that day."

"Do you know someone who was?"

"Marie?" He covers the phone with his hand and yells out into the room behind him: "Marie! Do you remember a reader named Billie Méjean? They returned a Thibault book the other day..." You hear someone answer from afar.

"Maurice, what?!" a woman yells. Then: "Yes-yes, okay, if it was the police..." She starts explaining something.

"Yes, it was my colleague Marie," the librarian is speaking into the phone again. "She said that it was Billie's husband who returned the book. He also asked for this new sci-fi release "Loos, Radio City '87", but we don't have it yet."

Loos, Radio City? That's the same book the working class woman was reading at the bookstand...

Something unpleasant twitches in your stomach.

"Thank you. That's all from me, I have no other questions." (End call with the library.)

"Happy we could help. Good bye, officer." The librarian hangs up and the call gets redirected back to the station with a soft click...

"Anything else you need from me?"

"So Billie Méjean is a woman, not a man? How did your colleague know that it was her husband?"

"Marie knows Billie, she's been working here longer than me. Sometimes her husband returns some books for her."

And then goes for a little drink later, on the lookout...

"Can Marie describe to me what the husband looked like?"

"Marie..." A moment passes.

"She said it was an older man... And that she's pretty sure he had had a drink or two the last time she saw him."

"What was he wearing?"

"Uh, one second..." The librarian turns away from the phone again and relays the question.

"Sorry, Marie wasn't really paying any attention to that."

"Do you know the husband's name?"

"Sorry, no -- Marie only knows him by sight."

Good. You have a name now.

By the pier, north of here. Those big apartment buildings there.

"I'm not really that good with addresses."

"Maybe you can write it down? It's Rue de Saint-Ghislaine 33B, apartment no 20. It's in Martinaise, I believe... Capeside Apartments, it says. That's all."