If I could interject: the RCM's problems are mainly *structural*. We're hamstrung by a lack of clear lines of authority, and our system of performance reviews strongly *disincentivizes* inter-precinct cooperation.

Harrier Du Bois... It suits you. I'm going to call you 'Harry,' since it's short for 'Harrier'.

I'm not putting up with anything. You put your life on the line and we came out on top. That matters.

You know, not too long ago I listened to a *fascinating radio programme* on traditional Samaran folk dances. The costumes they wear are supposed to be extraordinary...

You could probably make the jump. You look like you've done some track and field in your day.

It's been a long winter... Long and cold.

Not only to you -- I am *Lieutenant Kitsuragi* to everyone.

You know, not too long ago I listened to a *fascinating radio programme* on traditional Samaran folk dances. The costumes they wear are supposed to be extraordinary...

Thank you for your cooperation, sir. I know it was hard. But you did the right thing.

I see, yes. You're what we call a *bad ass*, aren't you?

The *D*, man, gotta hit that D!

Again, in your defence, I seem to have named one... THE MAN WITH THE HOLE IN HIS HEAD. That was a real person, his death was real. Still I named it that. To amuse myself.

Actually -- there is a shortage of people who talk to us in a normal, calm, informative manner.

No. I'm not an encyclopedia. I won't be a guide either. I'm a detective.

Our job. It went really bad. And now we need to clean it up.

I have been defamed over *live radio*. That has never happened to me before. And it *never* will again.

Not strange at all -- your name is Harrier Du Bois. Like it says on your police badge.

Mhm. Withdraw your hand 4 centimetres please.

Officer... I thought we had a walk of our own in mind. One that results in a solved murder investigation?

Now, you see -- that worries me. You will die if you drink -- you know that, don't you? You're proving a useful detective, the organization would miss you.

Once we've caught our client's spouse *in flagrante delicto*, we blackmail them and pocket the money ourselves, because that's what private investigators do. Now, I see that *you* are a married woman...

I have to tell you officer, I don't appreciate *ironic* titles. Other officers will have to use this as reference. If it's 'IDIOT', or 'COCK FINGER'... They're not going to *get* it. They're going to think: an idiot and a cock finger were on this case. So -- do you have something less *funny*?

One way or *another?* I can't even think of the *one* way... *magic*? *Semenese corpse salt*?

A scoop of ice cream would have been nice, yes.

It won't help our investigation to antagonize people we could interview.

Your current state seems to make you very vulnerable to suggestions. And he's got a lot of them.

What, you're going to blow a lead, just like that?

Furies. Yes. Well. I don't know. I have to be honest -- I'm not experiencing the *internal strife* that refers to.

Hmm, yes. I didn't want to mention it before, but you really should find your clothes.

Yes, I got that vibe from him too. Explains a lot.

I think we should take the picture -- and then you should *back away* from the unstudied species.

The witness has no *hold* on officers of the RCM. My partner was just trying to get you to come clean -- in his *unusually emotional* way.

Don't be dramatic. I can see your condition isn't terminal.

I certainly understand the impulse, but this is our job, detective. Our whole *raison d'être*. At some point, we'll need to return to it.

It's okay, you're just having a *little* panic attack. Try to breathe as slowly as you can, alright?

I wouldn't like to guess. Your performance so far doesn't exactly inspire confidence, but all sorts of things are possible...

Did he? I must have drifted away... somewhere between the copious mentions of pigs and homo-sexuality.

The fact that you don't seem to *know* what homo-sexuality is...

The witness has no *hold* on officers of the RCM. My partner was just trying to get you to come clean -- in his *unusually emotional* way.

No harm? In drinking 98.7% alcohol with a god-knows-how-old tie in it? I wouldn't be so sure. However, I'm not here to judge. Let's go.

Yes, it just so happens there's a beautiful, blonde nineteen year old woman at the heart of this case. A rich one, in fact. Part of a murder-sex-cult.

Try work. The case at hand. It can work miracles.

There *is* something going on here -- and you need to be *very* careful with it.

Yes. I'm still Kim Kitsuragi -- still a lieutenant from Precinct 57.

I am not *called* Pinball. It was used to taunt me -- a long time ago. *Before* I became a homicide detective. And got my lieutenancy.

You fired a gun at a little girl. I think I've got a *little* bit of wiggling room here.

You wanted to know which jacket I'd wear, right? Neither. I'd wear neither.

No. You're *gonna* call me Lieutenant Kitsuragi -- or on rare occasions 'Kim', because it's shorter.

It's as though *right* is over here... while *you're* over here...

Officer, you've stood there for over five minutes...