The trash container stands in the spring snow.

"The fuck's he on about -- kids?!" The one behind the fence yells. "You hear that, Cuno? He thinks you're an infant or something."

"See?"

"Okay." (Proceed.)

The lieutenant nods, then looks back into the trash container.

"That's all, I think."

The rest of the rags are just kitchen-variety waste. A yellow old mug that catches your eye. But other than that...

"Nope."

"Yes." He nods. "I think the clothes were taken off to get to that armour he wore, then discarded. They must have stripped him of it fast, too, the scavengers -- in a matter of days."

This feels like something you should return to with Lieutenant Kitsuragi present. Also, it makes you feel like an idiot for not having an evidence bag on you -- what will you do with a dead man's trousers?

Time for bed again. Crawl inside for real...

The smell of rotten food rises up at you as you climb inside the trash container.

[Close the lid.]

Darkness engulfs you. The stink of rot nearly knocks you out. For a minute you can smell cigarette smoke wafting in from outside -- then it is gone, and you hear footsteps walking away.

This is where you belong...

Darkness engulfs you. The stink of rot nearly knocks you out. For a minute you can smell cigarette smoke wafting in from outside.

A few words also come through the metal: "Good night, detective." But they dissipate around you like the smoke; you hear the lieutenant's footfall carry him away.

This is where you belong...

Close the lid.

The container sounds a muffled gong.

"That's one thing off the list..." The lieutenant sounds relieved. "I think we got it all."

"We should return later, officer. I don't think we were thorough enough. There may be more in there."

The mug, I'm getting that mug too.

Search the food waste.

There's nothing more of interest in this sludge of peels and meat by-product. Try the carton or those stinking rags.

It's just organic waste, cold and slimy on your hands. Apple and potato peels mostly, unidentified sludge, and the occasional chicken bone thrown in for good measure. But hey...

Nothing. It's nothing. Nothing more to see here.

...what's this?

What?

A blue piece of plastic sticks out from the apple peels. It's shiny. Looks like the corner of something...

Pick it out.

Something larger -- a clipboard! A blue plastic clipboard with moist papers hanging from it. They look badly damaged, but you can still make out forms and notes. Written in a man's handwriting...

Not just any man's. This dense cursive -- it's yours.

"Looks like we found your paperwork."

"I don't know what this is."

"It is, look..." He points to the clipboard. "The plastic has the RCM street grid on it. You've even got an autopsy form in there..." A miserable looking slip of paper sticks to the board.

"If you don't mind me asking -- how did this get in the trash?"

"It must have been cramping my style."

"Officer, this is an official piece of paperwork. It probably contains notes on numerous ongoing investigations -- and could even list undercover operatives. Informants. I suggest integrating it into your style. For all our sakes."

Easier said than done -- how could this pathetic cabbage of copy paper and plastic ever become très disco?"

Challenge accepted. You should be on the lookout for stylistic elements that elevate this cabbage to heights unforeseeable.

What I should do is get back to that garbage. (Decline.)

Soggy carton and some kind of food sludge welcome you back, uninvitingly. Smells like the wrong choice.

"Officer," the lieutenant adds, "This is sensitive information. You need to take this seriously."

"I don't know, man. Sounds like an order. I don't take those."

"I see, yes. You're what we call a bad ass, aren't you?" He makes little quotation marks around the words, indicating he is unsure of its actual badassery.

Wow, went off script there, getting your ass handed to you. You shouldn't go picking fights if your rhetorical faculties haven't suggested it.

"Tell me, see-eth your bad ass more in there or are we done here?" The lieutenant peers into the trash.

Soggy cartons and rags look back at him. "Oh yes -- and it would also be appropriate to start taking notes on the case. It's what cops do."

Some items, such as the ledger you found, are interactable. Go to your INVENTORY and select the INTERACT tab to read your paperwork.

"Tell me, does your bad ass see more in there or are we done here?" The lieutenant peers into the trash.

"Okay, I'll do that."

"It would also not hurt to start taking notes on the case." He peers into the trash, where soggy cartons and rags stink, uninvitingly. "Now, tell me what your eagle eyes see. Or are we finished?"

Say nothing.

"It would also not hurt to start taking notes on the case. Anyway, where were we..." The lieutenant peers into the trash container where soggy cartons and rags stink uninvitingly.

Alright then. Seems like a good idea. Right after the garbage, of course. (Accept.)

Good choice. Soggy carton and some kind of food sludge welcome you back, invitingly.

I don't know, it seems foreboding to me somehow. Like there's something in there that's out to get me.

What are you talking about? No one's out to get you -- get real man! Upgrade that cop-ledger!

"It has a foreboding quality to it. Maybe I needed to lose it, for the Great Bloodletting to begin?"

"What are you talking about?"