There's a rain-soaked mattress on a concrete slab, only half-covered by the crumbling…

He feels... uncomfortable suddenly.

"We should move. Now."

[Turn away.]

"No, wait." He points to the embrasure. "This is important, I have a feeling... What can you see?"

"No, but what about..." He points to the embrasure. "What's out there?"

No. You feel there's something important here. The embrasure. Look again...

"In Martinaise."

"I have always assumed it's someone local." He nods.

"Right here." (Point at the mattress.)

"You think so?" he whispers, pointing to the mattress. "We would see them if they were here."

Perhaps it's a...

"No, officer. It's not an invisible shooter. But..." He lowers his voice even further. "This island, on the other hand..."

"You think he's here?"

"Or she." He almost whispers. "We should move."

"But." He lowers his voice again. "This island on the other hand..."

"Where?" Cuno looks around the small compartment-sized room.

"In Martinaise."

"Yeah, detective Cuno thinks it's some local asshole too. These people are rats..."

He feels... uncomfortable suddenly.

"Let's get a move on. We're out in the open here..."

"On this island."

"Right fucking on." He stops. A shudder.

"Right here."

"You see someone here?" He points to the mattress. "Fuckin' invisible shooter? Spooky shit..."

"Six people are dead. We could have prevented it."

"Don't beat yourself up, officer. We did not put guns in their hands, or get them drunk." He looks north, over the fortification, then adds:

The lieutenant pauses. Regret comes over him.

"We will make up for it. Here. I feel it."

"Boo-yah. Master cop work."

"Why not? We have the weapon and ballistics. As you say it's..." He looks north, over the fortification. "Pretty boo-yah."

"It's only moderately effective cop work until we have the weapon. It will not be, how do you say it..." He looks north, over the fortification. "Boo-yah, until we have that..."

"Why didn't we come here before?"

"Why? We don't go everywhere in a thousand metre radius of the crime scene. That's not procedure."

"Better late than never."

He nods. "Nothing pointed here -- many leads pointed elsewhere."

"Kim, I could make it -- I could make the shot."

"Good." He pats you on the back, three small pats in a row. "I think we have it, detective. The origin of the shot. This is the sniper's nest."

"Yes -- there's an opening between 33A and 10. I can see to the roof."

"I can see it," he nods. "Through the scope of a rifle. The shooter would be prone, lying on the mattress, barrel resting on the embrasure."

"I can't be 100% certain, but..."

"What? Do you have line of sight to the window?"

What are you talking about -- "Can't be certain?" It's certain.

"There it is."

"Do you have line of sight to the window?"

"There it is."

"There what is, the window?"

More than that.

"Cuno, with a pair of binoculars, I would be able to see inside the room."

"Cuno fucking knew it. This a sniper's nest, right? Fuckin' assassin action... Cuno barely understands what's happening -- but he likes the shit out of it."

"Yes -- there's an opening between 33A and 10. I can see to the roof."

"Motherfucker."

"Motherfucker?" He sounds excited. "You seein' the window or not?"

"I can't be 100% certain, but..."

"You see the window or not?"

What are you talking about -- "Can't be certain?"

Cheek against the cheek rest, hand on the hair trigger. On a calm day like this...

...but not with 100% certainty.

The wind picks up slowly. The clear surface of the water shudders. Yes. This is it.

In the North, something moves. Leaving circles on the water. Long stalks in the shallows...

Is the shooter still here?