If that's even remotely true, then a clandestine investigation will be required. It smells like *bad news* to me -- a classic shitkid case that'll get people killed. Or fired.

A cover-up -- where the author of the cover-up is the perp? Makes sense. (‟I know, right? But what's the motive?”) You don't have a motive? Then the double cover-up seems too neat.

Fucking deranged lunatic...

Keep your weird bullshit to yourself and be professional for once, for fucks sake...

Oh no, NO, NO! You see, I enjoy watching other, better cops solve crimes -- and let me tell you, it's been quite a privilege seeing you work...

Are you drunk right now? You're drunk right now, aren't you, you fucking *bum*. I can smell it!

I'm clinically depressed, Harry. Sorry if I wasn't in the mood to butter you up after you told us to fuck off.

I don't know. I zoned out. Harry -- (He turns you.) Did you just pick up some island bum and pin it on him?

That will never happen, Jude. He's the rudest man on Earth. He is the reason why the rest of us have to take sensitivity training. And I *hate* sensitivity training...

(Satellite-Officer Jean Vicquemare rushes down the station stairs, angrily hunched over in the falling slush.)

You're a *worry-fest*. She's worried about you. I'm worried about you. Even Special Consultant Backpedal is worried about you.

I like wearing sunglasses inside. Sunglasses -- and a *fucking wig*.

Thank you, Cuno. You bring light to my day.

I can believe that. Not the *detective* part, that's a tall order, but that he fucked with us. This is typical Harry behaviour. A sick joke. I told you, Jude.

Oh, I wish I could, I wish I could... (he spreads his arms and shrugs.) Unfortunately I'm a neck and chin nurse. What you need is a head nurse. Sorry I couldn't help you out, buddy.

Get over yourself -- you're not a *perfectionist*. You're a cop and you did a good job. With a lot of help from Lieutenant Kitsuragi.

Guess I'm just pathologically a *glass is half-full* kind of guy.

(‟It's happening! My hard work is paying off! I'm becoming famous!”) Oh, yes you are! And you've worked really, *really* hard, haven't you?

Yes-yes... What's *wrong* with you? (EMPATHY - He's still *dwelling* on that jacket.)

Wow... You seem stable. And in control. Allow me to say, alcohol really seems to have had a positive effect on you.

Get over yourself -- you're not a *perfectionist*. You're a cop and you did a good job. With a lot of help from Lieutenant Kitsuragi.

A straggler -- from the Revolution? (He sounds incredulous.)

Harry... you're bleeding all over the place. You're half dead.

Harry, you're a cop with 'Pissf****ts' on his back! Do you have any idea how hard the liberals are going to fuck us for this?

That's right -- 'worried'. I'm always worried about you.

Stupid is a gross understatement. (You feel his eyes behind the shades mapping you out.) How about 41? How does 41st sound? (He shakes his head.) Never mind, I'm not going along with this...

Thank you, lieutenant. You're being kind. It *is* an understaffed station and the district *is* too big -- which is why we need to... (He tilts his head northward...)

(‟Cool shades. Are you wearing a disguise?”) Yes. It's a hobby of mine. (He looks at you inquisitively.)

Ha-ha-ha, ho-ho-ho. (He grabs his stomach in mirthless laughter.) Underwater killer. So funny, Harry. Thank you for fucking me.

People say you've been out of your mind. I asked around.

He's here to see if you're insane. He's smart. Let's move on.

Oh, you think it was *cool* -- you saying that? *Aesthetic* somehow? You were crying when we got here. Breaking things. You said we were going 'into the abyss'. None of us wanted to see the abyss, so we fucked off. (He sighs.) Like you told us to.

You didn't *recognize* me -- your own partner. Walked right past me...

And you were probably right too -- I would have never let you abduct a kid and take him on a creepy boat trip in the middle of fucking March!

Yes. You're *sorry*. You're the sorriest cop who ever lived. Nothing has changed, Harry. I've heard this *repentance* shit a million times over.

Funny apery. (Vicquemare struggles with his umbrella, the ribs are protruding from its canopy.) Male-centric workplace humour. Have you seen him?

Good job, that was very close. (He now speaks with the tone of a mother helping her kid take first steps.) Maybe try again?

Funny apery. (Vicquemare finally manages to pull his gloves on. There's a small tear along the inside seam of the left glove.) Male-centric workplace humour. Have you seen him?

I don't care. Go live in the fucking pale.

Okay, okay! (The man sounds genuinely excited.)

I'm sure he's fucking *flattered*, but *Kim* is not part of this thought experiment. In this one -- *we're* partners.

See - there! (He wags his finger at you.) He's getting it! I was *impersonating* him. Look at me, I'm G-Bevy. It was going to be funny. But then you really did have brain damage - so not so much anymore. (EMPATHY - He sincerely thought it was going to be amusing. For both of you)

I don't know. I zoned out. Harry -- (He turns you.) Did you just pick up some island bum and pin it on him?

Actually, I *don't* want to hear you say things.

Fuck you, Harry -- we didn't *know* there was gonna be a tribunal, did we?

You turned a church into a night club -- the *kids* are probably shooting up in there... What else did you do? Desecrate the altar? Shit in the chancel?

I don't *want* to. But you discovered a new species. And solved the murder... (He shrugs.) So I *have* to. Jude?

Fucking deranged lunatic... (The sunglass-wearing man pushes through his teeth.)

We've come to scrape what's left of you off the pavement.

What does that say on your back? 'Fuck the World'? So you've turned into some kind of... nihilistic rock-and-roll *world ender*?