burn retinas after reading

sharp objects
  -or-
practicing police

it was a cold, overcast day; tryptical. i met this guy, neal wiley, who had come to my

attention as a possible suspect/lead in the home invasion that i had been hired to

investigate. he seemed tense, and jittery, like a coffee spiked w/ adrenaline, but i've

dealt w/ that before: that's why i recognize the behavior. i make small talk, commenting

on the reports of multiple stabbings in the area; it's a slight gamble to see how he

reacts to unpleasant news and also hints at his current level of awareness about current

events. in other words, i'm looking for a tell.

                                                    ^

as we talk, we split pitchers of beer, the only item on the menu that interested either

of us. i could tell he was troubled and take great care to study all of his mannerisms,

even try to decipher his mutterings. that's the thing though: he seemed disturbed (not

mentally) by something, but as far as i could tell (after maybe 3 (4?) rounds), he simply

knows something he'd rather forget. this guy didn't commit the crime, but he most

certainly has info connected to it.

                                                    ^

outside looks like it's getting brutal, so i up the ante: 2 maker's, neat. my companion

doesn't mark a word of dissidence. the drinks arrive and i continue to make small talk,

asking about the west end (where the crime was committed) and such, subtly memorizing

his alibis. finally he slipped, remarked about a frame-up he was ashamed to have

partaken/assisted w/; it involved some girl named jackie, which left my trail cold: i'm

investigating something deeper.