LAMB: It’s a butcher’s hook, you know, for meat. My uncle brought one home for Halloween one year ’cause I was dressing up as Captain Hook. (holds up the hook and sneers like a pirate) Yar!

Startled, Hamilton takes a step back.

LAMB: Didn’t mean to … Sorry.

Hamilton gestures, as if to say, ‘It’s fine.’

LAMB: Anyway. My mom didn’t let me use it, she was afraid I’d take some kid’s eye out with it …

Lamb removes the card from the hook and hands it to Hamilton.

HAMILTON: (reads from the card) ‘Prohapsi me.’[1]

LAMB: Google says it means ‘Arrest me’ in Lavinian. That’s how I figured where he’s from. At least I know I spelled it right.

Hamilton flips the card over.

LAMB: That’s your business card, yeah?

HAMILTON: … It is.

LAMB: You see why I’m confused that you don’t know him.

HAMILTON: I’m as confused as you are.

LAMB: I’m getting that vibe.

HAMILTON: (to Josef) Sir? Sir. (points to business card) How did you get my card?

JOSEF: Ne ću vi ničo rači.[2]

LAMB: At least he’s consistent.

HAMILTON: (to Josef) Did someone give this to you?

LAMB: I don’t think he speaks English.

HAMILTON: Yeah. (looks at Josef) Does he even understand where he is?

LAMB: Dunno. When the two kids brought him in, he / was a bit –

HAMILTON: Kids?

LAMB: Right, so, these two kids – well, these two young guys or whatever, they show up at the station around midnight or so carrying our friend here. Officer Taylor, the desk clerk – you met him downstairs, on your way in – says, ‘Can I help you,’ blah-blah-blah, but they just dump Sergeant Santa on a chair and take off.

(takes business card from Hamilton) Is it possible someone’s playing a prank on you?

HAMILTON: If so, it’s not funny.

LAMB: Yeah, well … Stranger things have happened. Few months ago we had a teenager drop off his Alzheimer’s grandma ’cause he had a date and didn’t want to babysit her. (shakes his head) Who treats family like that, am I right?

HAMILTON: Yeah.

LAMB: Anyway, it’s just the details here that don’t make sense, ya know? The uniform? (picks up the hook) You can’t get this at a hardware store.

And your business card. (beat) Maybe someone thought he’d need a lawyer.

HAMILTON: An intellectual property lawyer?

LAMB: Maybe he’s a serial downloader.

Hamilton scowls.

Lamb chuckles and puts the hook back in the desk drawer.

LAMB: Is this your first time in a police station or something?

HAMILTON: It is, as a matter of fact.

LAMB: Well, so you know, you’re allowed to make jokes in here.

HAMILTON: It’s the middle of the night, Inspector.

LAMB: And I woke you up. My bad.