"He did everything he could," the lieutenant interrupts him. "We did everything we could…

There! You need to make your case -- now. The floor is all yours, he prepared it well.

"The killer did not seem to be aware of the phasmid's presence. Exhibiting a strange, atypical dementia, he fell into a stupor after its appearance. He became near-catatonic."

"It's probably not connected per se -- but the perpetrator knew of its existence."

"Boom. Boom. Boom."

"Yes -- but also..."

"Khm... yes, the phasmid may have contributed to his mental state in some way. Over the years."

"This is what I've been trying to tell you about."

"Fucking hell, is that... Is this somehow connected to the case?" He ignores you, still staring at the phasmid.

"So -- as you can see, I'm a pretty okay detective."

"Boom shakalaka, motherfucker!"

"Hosiannah."

He takes out the photo and shows it to the officers across the yard. Rain comes down, he covers the glossy photo of the phasmid with his hand.

He takes out the photo of the phasmid and shows it to the officers across the yard. The wind blows, flapping the glossy rectangle in his hand.

"A colossal stick insect -- three metres tall. It's on the island, camouflaged as the reeds. It... unfolded from them. I did not -- unfortunately -- get a photo. But I believe it may have been the Insulindian phasmid."

"..."

"I know this sounds fantastic. But I'm a four times decorated lieutenant of the RCM. I do not make up encounters with cryptids to spice up my day. I am very, very sane."

"I don't doubt you, lieutenant. If you say it was the Insulindian phasmid then it was the Insulindian Phasmid."

"It's incredible. But it was real."

"Lieutenant -- is it somehow connected to the case?" He pays you no heed.

Say nothing.

"By god... is it somehow connected to the case?"

"Boom shakalaka."

"So -- as you can see, I'm a pretty okay detective."

"He apprehended a straggler who stayed hidden for fifty years, ever since the Revolution; who's probably committed other murders over those years..." He pauses. "Oh -- and he also discovered a new species."

"Well, except that one time when he stopped to sing karaoke. Which -- by the way -- was a valiant effort. He really sang his heart out."

"Yeah... it was what it was..."

"And he solved it. Near-perfectly. In one week we have: a confession, a murder weapon -- and the perpetrator. Locked on the island right now, awaiting transportation."

"Odder still -- he is also a full blown fascist. An ultranationalist woman-hater and more than a little racist. How he reconciles these two points of view..." He shrugs. "But he is vocal about both."

"Odder still -- he is also an ultraliberal 'hustler' who is always..." The lieutenant pinches the root of his nose. "On the grind. Which I guess, goes well with some of his racism. I don't know -- he is vocal about both beliefs though."

"Odder still -- he is also an ultraliberal 'hustler' who is always..." The lieutenant pinches the root of his nose. "On the grind. How he reconciles these two points of view, I do not know -- but he is vocal about both of them."

"I AM A POLICEMAN OF THE STATE TO COME!"

"The RCM consists of policemen of the state that is. So -- a little discrepancy there." He turns back to Vicquemare.

"It's worrying. Especially in light of his political views. Detective Du Bois is -- as you may know -- a fascist. A far-right woman-hater and, of course, also into race-stuff. Which -- for a police officer --" He shakes his head. "Not good."

"I had a major collision with him on the subject. He yielded, and is now striving to be a crypto-fascist. That is: a regular police officer who thinks these things but doesn't say them. So that's... yeah."

"Odder still -- he is also a Mazovian socio-economist, who believes in liquidating the ruling class. How he reconciles these two points of view, I do not know -- but he is vocal on both of them."

"It's odd. Especially in light of his political views. Detective Du Bois is -- as you may know -- a 'hustler'. He..." The lieutenant pinches the root of his nose. "Grinds. He makes the reál. He's a 'visionary' and a 'money engineer', which is just..." He shakes his head.

"It's just strange. Especially in light of his political views. Detective Du Bois is -- as you may know -- a true blue moralist. A man of the centre. Not prone to political outbursts. Which is commendable. But also... at odds with his behaviour."

"Then there's the... superstardom. He likes to -- from time to time -- allude to being a superstar law official. At first I thought it was a joke, but... now I'm not so sure. He says disco about twenty times a day."

"Then there's the... self-flagellation issue. He likes to apologize -- profusely. Making it sound like he's guilty of at least first degree murder. It's not a good communication strategy for an officer. It's..."

"Then there's the boring cop issue. Despite all the obvious and almost grotesque mannerisms and sartorial choices he still insists he isn't characteristic enough. It's..."

"Well..." A cold gust of wind. He pulls up his collar. "The drinking, the lost gun, also losing his badge -- that's all true. And he's been drinking on the job."

The man sighs. Deeply.

"Yes. What he said."

"Yeah, it was a massacre -- we got wiped. Where the hell were you?!"

"Don't make this harder for yourself," he says in a lowered voice.

"I'm just sorry."

"Stop being sorry for five minutes," he says in a lowered voice.

"The firefight is a trivial matter compared to the greatest discovery of this century."

"Wait, it's better if I..." he says in a lowered voice.

"He did so at considerable risk to his own life. He was shot -- not once, but twice. We stopped an execution, not a negotiation. The loss of life was minimal compared to what it could have been."

"He did so at considerable risk to his person. Remember -- he was shot. We stopped an execution, not a negotiation. The loss of life was minimal compared to what it could have been."

"Yo -- Imma stop you right there, fuck-face. It's Cuno-time."

That's it. The cavalry has arrived.

"Cuno -- Shush."

"No." He does not take the order. "Cuno's going all in."

Oh no.... all in.

"First of all, yo -- those guys were all f***ts. The guys in the armour? Fts. The Union guys? Fts. So yeah --" He stares Vicquemare in the eye. "Suck Cuno's dick. You don't know* me."

"You don't know what happened here. You don't know this shit. Automatic fucking weapons. Urban battleground shit. Battle lines drawn in blood. Blood Meridian. You don't know this shit."

"Now -- Cuno wasn't there. Right -- you getting this? Cuno was breaking it up with Cuno's main bitch C. Parting-of-the-ways shit. But when Cuno got there -- pig had fucking cleaned up. Blood and ruin."

"Smoked all those dinky fuckers. Saved this shit -- Martinaise shit. I see he's mournin' and shit.... His main pig got semi-wasted. Sent to the boo-boo-mobile -- Cuno steps up. Cuno fucking FILLS those shoes. Big boy shoes -- Detective Cuno."