"The coppernado is back..." He smirks. "What do you want?"

"The clowns are still hanging around... What is it now?"

"One lonesome clown... What a sad sight." He sighs. "What do you want?"

"Looks like the circus left town, but the clowns are still here." Titus does not look particularly happy to see you.

"This is where you say your bit." A broad-shouldered man points at you with a beer can.

He's used to giving orders and having them obeyed immediately. You should not indulge him.

He and his men carry themselves like giants. You'll need to prove your mettle to be taken seriously.

"Detective." The lieutenant acknowledges you with a sharp note. He's leaving it to you.

Precinct 57th's finest scans the room, leaving the speaking to you: He trusts you -- maybe against his better judgement, but he does.

"We need to talk about the man hanged out back."

"Oh, this is about him?" He looks around. "A real looker, that one..."

"You're sure taking your time. Waiting for him to get ripe and pretty for you, huh?"

"Oh, he's a real pretty boy by now. REAL hot stuff!" Glen nods along. "Letting out that pretty-boy smell."

"TIME TO GO TO WORK IN THE SHIT FACTORY!!!"

"Easy, boys... These janitors have a helluva job cut out for them. I mean, I wouldn't go in there for a million..." He slaps his forehead.

"You might want to start asking your questions now. It's not going to get better than this."

These guys are so macho they're ready to confess to first-degree murder. Ask if it was them.

Do a headcount first -- connect these men to the tracks you saw in the yard -- chances are they're going to match.

Questions? To hell with that. Get right up in the big dick's face -- physical confrontation.

Or... don't get in his face yet. Wait. You may need to establish yourself in his eyes later. If you fail, doing this may give you a fresh chance!

"First, we need to talk about your attitude."

"Wow... the RCM sent us some big dick cops."

"Real big dick cops... Look at them! Reckless, swinging in the wind."

"Yeah, look at the big dick on that cop. Can't tell a dick that big what to do."

"Must be something in the water in Jamrock," he says thoughtfully.

"Yeah, gave them real nice big dicks."

"Yeah... Khm, anyways..." He wraps it up.

"You hear that, boys?" The man looks around. "Looks like the RCM sent us a big dick cop."

"You don't get to tell me what to do." He impersonates you. The crowd laughs again...

Don't say anything yet.

"Hey... HEY, DIPSHIT!!! You hard of hearing or something?! The bossman is talking to you!"

Do not let their squeals disturb your serenity. These are but simple peasants, sire.

Cross your arms.

"What, is he fucking kidding...? This guy high or something?" The little guy looks at his mates in disbelief.

"Hey asshole, up here! We're talking to you!"

"We're looking for Titus Hardie." The lieutenant turns to the broad-shouldered man at the end of the table.

"We need to talk about the man hanged out back."

"Oh, this is about him?" He looks around. "A real looker, that one..."

"You sure took your time, huh?" He looks to Titus for approval. "Waited for him to get real ripe and pretty for you?"

"Oh, he was a real pretty boy, hanging up there... Letting out that pretty-boy smell."

"I can't for the life of me understand why you did it." He spreads his arms. "I mean... I would have just left him up there. You must really like cleaning up other people's shit."

The chatter is too inane to reach your ears: Raise your chin and gaze into the distance like a prince.

"First, we need to talk about your attitude."

"We need to talk about the man hanged out back."

"We need to talk about the man hanged out back."

"Look, the insane police officer is back." He takes a sip of his beer.

The small man mimes blowing his brains out. You see his rat-face contorted in mock despair, his fingers touching his temple.

There's laughter in the room. Try not to kill yourself this time.

"Just dragged her away, huh? Stone cold..." He's still looking at the front door. "Didn't think you had it in you..."

"I didn't have what in me? To arrest her?"

"Yeah, you ruthless son of a bitch." He nods approvingly. "I certainly didn't have it in me -- I always let the pretty ones go. I'm soft like that."

"Yeah, like when we let old Clancy's widow walk."

"Or Denisse, the diner girl! The milk rack on that one..." He says, almost elegiacally.

"Can't say I wasn't sad to see her go -- our Klaasje there -- her face when your friend walked her out. Goddamn..." He shakes his head.

"Hold up, her face -- what did it look like?"

"Like she was walking to the gallows."

He avoided looking her straight in the eye -- you would've too.

"That was the normal thing to do. She was a flight risk. I'm a cop."

"Yes... normal." He seems to be thinking. "Nothing to do about it now I guess. I just hope she can game her way through the system and come out the other way."

"Don't think I forgot how I specifically let you know how I felt about her arrest either." He says shaking his head. "Now what do you want?"

His tone is friendly now and the last words are actually accompanied with a little smile.