"I found someone who saw the hanging. A witness."

"Indeed. Mighty. How did it get there?" The lieutenant is fixed on Titus.

He gives you an indulgent look. "Well there are so many bullets in the world and so many heads..."

He sighs deeply. "I guess it's only logical -- at some point one of them bullets had to end up in one of them heads..."

"It's bound to happen again, you know." He taps on his right temple. "Just statistically speaking, of course."

Sire, it would be an event most dramatic if you were to produce the bullet and dangle it before their very eyes!

"I think the hanging was a cover-up for the shooting."

"You know what I think?" He raises his finger. "I think he was shot in the head as a kid. And his brain grew around the bullet."

It is possible to live with an injury like that. Makes you touch the back of your skull, wondering if there's one in there?

No. You'd remember that. You've been shot at four times. Hit twice.

"Around the bullet, man..." Alain pinches the root of his nose. "That's a good one."

All the goofing around is to avoid lying. It's a technique.

They're only pretending to enjoy this. Beneath the act -- they don't like you knowing this.

"Did you guys shoot him?"

"Shit!" He throws his head back. "I probably did shoot him. I was drunk last night. You guys know me when I'm drunk..."

"Yeah, Glen likes to shoot his guns when he's drunk." The little guy looks you in the eye. "Better hope he stays sober."

"Yes. Death threats," he says calmly. "My partner meant before he was hanged."

"Before? After? During?" She shakes her head slowly. "I seriously advise you to stop testing these men. They're getting agitated."

They're no more agitated than they were a minute ago. She is though.

"No, he meant before he was hanged. Did you shoot him before you hanged him?"

"Before? After? During?" She spreads her arms. "This is getting ridiculous. They told you what happened. Stop wasting your time."

"I'm gonna ask you again, why was this..." (Show them the bullet) "... in the victim's head?"

"Wow." The little man leans in to inspect the leaden blossom. "He's got it in a real evidence bag and all..."

"Why don't you go home and log it into evidence. These men have told you what happened."

"I meant before he was hanged."

"Don't worry, I will figure this out sooner or later." (Conclude.)

"Never been worried in my life, lawman." He crosses his hairy arms, having forgotten his beer for a moment.

It's not like you blew it wide open, but there's a little crack in there, somewhere...

"Curious yes, I guess we'll never know... About something else though?"

"I really don't care." He shrugs and looks over his shoulder.

"Truly curious. If you hanged him, how did it get there?"

"Me and Evrart talked. He promised you'd cooperate."

"Oh, so you went and talked to my mommy -- and now she's making me play with you?" He spits. "Is that it, lawman?"

"And what's going to happen if we don't?" The little guy leans forward. "You gonna go and tell on us?"

"Let's change the subject."

"Oh no, Shanks... you hurt his feelings." He mocks you. "Please ask your little questions, little guy."

"Very mature, guys. Evrart sent word, right?"

"Yeah yeah, I heard him. The fuck do you think I'm doing here? You'd have your ass handed to you if it wasn't for the bossman's word."

"Let me state this very clearly, coppo." He clears his throat and declares: "Hello, officer! I'm Titus Hardie and these are my boys. Hardie boys. How may we assist you?"

Explosive laughter follows. To his men, Titus Hardie is a golden god. They want to laugh at his jokes even before they leave his lips. This guy is a born leader.

It would take an army to bend Titus to its will, but having Evrart back you up like that... did seem to have some effect.

"I would never tell on someone!"

"I would though," he says, as casually as if he were commenting on the weather.

"Typical binoclard. Always a tattletale." He shakes his head resentfully and continues.

"Evrart sent word you two would be around again. That's the only reason I'm being so forthcoming with ya. Don't wear it out."

"Well, snitches get stitches and you don't have any stitches, although by the looks of it you could probably use some." He sizes you up.

"The old man sent word you'd would be around. That's the only reason I'm being so forthcoming with ya. Don't wear it out."

"Why don't you push me some more and find out, gimp."

"You gonna let him talk to me like that, Titus?" He turns his eyes, full of hurt, to the big man.

"Let's see..." He chuckles. "Yeah. I guess I am, you big pussy."

He turns back to you. "The old man sent word you'd be around again. That's the reason I'm being so forthcoming with ya. Don't wear it out."

"You still haven't explained the bullet in his head."

"You know, all this talk about bullets and heads makes me think you want one in yours."

"Oh, they're itching for one..." He clacks his tongue. "I listen to Channel 8. These cops have a death wish."

"Oh, he's itching for one..." He clacks his tongue. "I listen to Channel 8. This cop has a death wish."

"How does the bullet in his head factor into this?"

"Huh?!" A sip of beer makes the surprise go down easier.

"Titus has already given you a cause of death. Hanging. Why is it so hard for you to understand?" The question is rhetorical.

She cut in so Titus wouldn't have to answer.

...or lie. Something he's probably not very good at.

"If there's any post-mortem trauma, it's your problem. This will not turn into a cross-examination."