"Hello, mister!" The Net Picker's daughter waves at you.

"Okay, then. I'm sorry." She presses her own cheek against Lamby and smiles, sadly.

"Oh, okay. Well, pleased to meet you, Lamby."

"Lamby usually doesn't like strangers, but you're also fuzzy like Lamby."

"I heard there was a girl here who has armoured gloves. Is that you?"

"Ooooh." She looks alarmed. "I had gloves, very big ones! Heavy too."

"Where did you get these gloves?"

"Found them when Lamby and I were playing hide-and-seek. In an empty house where no one lives! I think someone hid them there..."

She doesn't want you to think she stole them.

"And where are the gloves now?"

She pouts. "I hid them. The twins were going to take them. They're stupid..." She lifts her stuffed toy up and looks into its one remaining eye, as though searching for confirmation.

"We're going to need those gloves. It's for important police business." He enunciates the last two words carefully.

"Oooh..." She doesn't seem to understand, but the lieutenant's tone has conveyed to her the 'important' part.

"They're in my sandcastle." She points somewhere outside. "Behind our house. Under the sand. You can break the castle, it's not very good."

"I need those gloves."

"Why?" She looks at you suspiciously.

"It's grown-up business. You wouldn't understand. Just tell me where they are."

She frowns, delaying divulging her secret. "Oo-kay," she says finally with some reluctance. "I hid them inside my sandcastle. Behind the house." She points somewhere outside. "You can take them."

"I need them for a very important police investigation."

"Oooh..." She doesn't seem to understand, but you have conveyed the 'important' part, at least.

"Where did you get them?"

"Are you Lilienne's daughter?"

"Yesssss, I am! Little Lily!" She gazes at you with her big eyes. "You know my mom?"

"Not really, but I'd like to."

"Uh huh," she nods. "Mom is great! You know what's great about my mom?"

"Everything?"

"Haa haa, yessss!" She smiles, hugging her fuzzy toy.

"No, do tell me."

"Everything!" She shouts with glee.

"Yes, we met earlier."

"That's nice! My mom is great," she nods. "She's never angry or anything."

"Good-bye." [Leave.]

"Bye!" The girl's large, curious eyes remain fixed on you.

"I'm talking to the children to learn from them. Has anything strange happened here lately?"

"Uhhhhh..." She sits her doll on her lap. Its ragged limbs reach out toward you, as if longing for a cuddle. "Like what?"

"Anything. Maybe something you saw or heard that was weird?"

"Yes!" She lights with recognition. "The twins got in trouble for saying bad words."

"Is that it?"

"Yes." She yawns, and leans back into the cushion.

"Bad words are for losers. Good on you for not saying them."

"Yep!" The girl nods firmly. "I don't say bad words. Lamby doesn't either."

FUCK OFF.

Lamby remains silent. The fireplace flickers and cackles. She hugs the doll close to her chest and laughs.

"I see. Thank you for the tip; I'll talk to them about it." (Move on.)

"You're welcome!"

"What's wrong with bad words? I love bad words."

She gasps. "No! Don't say bad words! Promise?"

"I'll keep an eye on him." The lieutenant cuts in faster than you can reply. "Don't worry."

He's not going to let you make a fool of yourself or the RCM in front of this girl. Not while he's here.

"No can do. I got a potty mouth till I die."

"Nooooo! Don't be bad too!" Her face bunches up in a scowl.

Guess you held your ground. It can be good, being honest with yourself.

"Okay." (Lie.)

"Good." She hugs Lamby close to her again.

Was it good to lie to a child? Maybe it doesn't matter. It's not your responsibility.

"But bad words can be good! It can be healthy to express yourself with them."

"What?" She covers Lamby's ears by cupping his whole head in her small palms.

"Lamby doesn't like bad words. Please promise!"

Hey, why can't I swear off swearing for real?

She stares at you, waiting for an answer.

You can't abandon swearing for a simple reason: You're just a man who swears.