"Guess what -- I've come upon something incriminating."

"Understood. Next question."

"Why not? Yap my ear off, I got nothing to hide."

"So, what are we going to do now?" (Conclude the questioning.)

"Nothing," her reply comes sharp. "Your investigation here is done. Leave Martinaise, go back to your stations, where you belong."

"I think we're going to stick around, thanks. Some things don't add up here, Titus." The lieutenant closes his notebook.

"I've done this job for long enough to know that people don't just confess to first-degree murder. Even if it is a group responsibility. We're going to look into this."

"Good luck with that." He grabs another beer. "You've heard everything a rent-a-cop is gonna hear from us real law officials. You're lucky you didn't get a beating."

Rent-a-cop? So that's what this is about. He doesn't see you as his equals.

Forget about their games. You've mapped out the characters -- reading the footprints in the yard should be easier now.

Rent-a-cop? So that's what this is about. He doesn't see you as his equal.

"Yes, run home, lonely rent-a-cop." He grabs another beer. "Real law officials are done with you. You're lucky you didn't get a beating."

"Nothing," her reply comes sharp. "Your investigation here is done. You should go back to Jamrock -- to your station, where you belong."

"Why did you kill him?"

"Why?" he hisses through his teeth. "Because he was worthless mercenary scum -- and he stepped out of line. In my town."

"Glad we cleared that up."

"So am I. Now how about you get the fuck out of my town?"

No, fuck him. Murder rage never came from nothing. Hit him with the question again -- why'd he fucking do it?

He killed the guy for stepping out of line? What, is Mr. Titus Hardie here a fascist? No sir, he is not. Get to the bottom of it. Ask again.

Countless lines separate life and death. What terminal boundary was crossed here? Men like Titus don't murder over nothing. Ask him again.

This isn't a man who just loses his cool in a murderous way. There was more than one line crossed. The situation must have been beyond critical. Ask him again why he did it.

"So he was a mercenary, that's it?"

"And he stepped out of line," he repeats, jaw clamped shut like a vice.

"What kind of mercenary?"

"The kind that shows up when you start a strike. The experienced kind, too. Had Co Hoi and Semenine written all over him -- ex-Oranjese Special Forces."

"A live grenade." The man spreads his arms. "Right here in our bar!"

This one has a special gripe with him coming here.

"I can't prove it, but I know he was sent by the Wild Pines. They hire merc-shit like that. Story of every strike from here to Samara."

"Okay, besides crimes against karaoke, what did he actually do wrong?"

"Wrong?!" he roars. "He harassed women. Raped one. Harassed workers. Threatened to kill some as a warning..." He wipes spittle from his mouth.

From rape -- to harassment -- to threats of violence -- why the strange de-escalation?

He regrets mentioning it, hopes you didn't notice.

"... to kill us all if we don't open the gates, if we don't let the scabs in. If we don't bend over." He cracks his knuckles. "And that was before he started coming here."

"Yeah, he said it was his 'favourite joint' now, started coming here every night! Drinking, grabbing girls -- grabbed one of ours mid-karaoke. Right there on the stage!"

"He grabbed someone?" The lieutenant is trying to make sense of this flood of information.

"Yeah, this girl's on the mic, a beautiful girl, young. Gets into the second verse of 'Lover Lake'. The fucker grabs her legs, starts screaming..."

"'Show me your cunt! Why don't you show me your cunt?' Then he gets knocked on the head with a wine bottle -- doesn't even fall down!" He shakes his head in disbelief.

"I'm going to ask for one last time: Who did the dead man rape?"

"Titus, do not answer. You have been forthcoming enough."

"Fuck off, cop." He does take the advice. "She's gone through enough without you harassing her too. She doesn't need more embarrassment."

"What are you talking about -- embarrassment? If someone has been sexually assaulted, we need to..."

"What you need is to get THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE!" You hear the aluminium crack in his palm as he squeezes the beer can. "I've had enough of explaining myself to you fucks. He's dead, it's done!"

The woman turns to you, calmly: "As you can see, these men can only take so much baseless scrutiny. I'm doing my best to keep the situation civil, but..." What follows is a slow headshake.

It won't be for long, she means.

It's true. She was the only thing holding him back.

"I need to talk to the victim."

"Embarrassment? That's idiotic. I need to talk to her."

"Was this the same girl who was sexually assaulted -- raped, you said?"

"Aren't you fucking listening? My man is talking to you. He took care of it. They got the girl out before anything else could happen."

"Yeah, me and Eugene got her out. Aren't you fucking listening?!" he repeats like a parrot.

There's something odd here.

Seems like they don't want to talk about that rape Titus mentioned. Why not? This is a serious allegation. Make them talk about it.

"Right, but who did he rape then? This is a very serious allegation."

"No." There's a moment of silence. "You're not getting a name. That's a Martinaise matter and I'm not discussing it with you clowns."

Despite the stonewalling you can slip one more question in.

There's nothing you can do for now. He's stonewalling you.

"Okay then. Now, about the man you killed..." (Conclude.)

"What about him?"

"He grabbed someone?"

There's slight unease in him, suddenly. He regrets mentioning the rape.

"Right, but what did he actually do wrong?"