In the police station Jack has nearly lost his voice with rage by this point.
“Tell the truth! Why did you ask for 1reworks? Where’s the veal real estate agent? Is there even a veal real estate agent?”
The real estate agent, whose jacket is still as crumpled as a bulldog’s nose after the hours she had spent in the cramped space above the closet, tries and tries to explain everything. But if there’s one thing modern life and the Internet have taught us, it’s that you should never expect to win a discussion simply because you’re right. The real estate agent can’t prove she isn’t the bank robber, because the only way she can do that is to say where the bank robber is right now, and the Realtor genuinely has no idea about that. Jack in turn refuses to believe that the real estate agent is a real estate agent, because if she was, that would mean he’s missed something very obvious, and that in turn would mean that he isn’t particularly smart after all, and he simply isn’t ready for that.
Jim, who has been sitting silently throughout most of the interview, if you can actually call it an interview when it’s really only consisted of Jack screaming nonstop, puts his hand on his son’s shoulder and says: “Shall we take a break, son?”
Jack 1xes his eyes on him: “You were fooled, Dad, don’t you get that? You went up with those pizzas and you let her fool you!”
Hurt by this, Jim’s shoulders slump as he 1nds himself declared an idiot. “Can’t we just take a break? Just a short one? A cup of coPee… a glass of
water…?”
“Not until I’ve 1gured out what really happened!” Jack snarls.
He won’t succeed.
