CA: Yeah, that’s the bad cop. He’s ugly, too. There’s a nice one but he’s not in charge.

DC: [unintelligible]

CA: K, laters, bye.

DC: As we were saying, let’s go over the events of the night itself. We need to build a timeline. You arrived at Ms Tan’s hotel at approximately seven p.m., is that right?

CA: Ish.

DC: Let the record reflect that the witness said she arrived at approximately seven p.m. And what time did Ms Tan fall asleep?

CA: Just after half-eight.

DC: You fell asleep about the same time?

CA: I actually may have fallen asleep before her. She entered her first dream cycle at about eight-thirty. I have notes of all this in my dream diary.

DC: How can you keep a diary while you’re sleeping?

CA: It’s an acquired skill. I use my AR piece to record brain patterns and keep a notepad open for the meta. Because I’m a lucid dreamer, I can make notes and maintain the dream at the same time. Unless the dream gets really hairy.

RP: Can we see the notes?

CA: They’re confidential. Client privilege.

DC: You’re not a doctor or a lawyer. You’re going to need to turn over those notes. If you don’t give them to us, the police will take them off you.

RP: What’s that guy doing out there? Is he trying to get in?

CA: I know him! It’s OK, let him in before he wakes the whole neighbourhood—

Stranger: [shouting, possibly in Portuguese]

[LOUD BANGING AND THUMPING NOISES]

DC: Who is this maniac?

RP: I’m letting him in before he wakes Serge.

CA: Antonio, calm down.

Antonio: How I am being calm when police are blaming me, your English pig police want to deport me or maybe just shoot me in the head. Don’t touch me!

DC: We don’t deport people. We’re the—

CA: They’re not immigration officers. They’re only Scully and Mulder, Antonio. It’s cool.

Antonio: You come with me, Charlie, she is lying there dead, I am a broken man. Come, Charlie—

RP: Sorry, mate, you can’t— Oi!

DC: [unintelligible]

CA: Hey! Hey, oi! Fuckity shit fuck, guys, stop hurting each other. Fighting is bad! STOP IT!

[END RECORDING]

Why

Why

‘That’s enough, break it up!’

Donato is on the ground under Antonio with his legs wrapped around Antonio’s waist. They are hitting each other even as they crash into the legs of chairs. Laminated menus slither down from the counter and rain on them.