Sam sits in the midst of police station chaos and tiredly rubs his forehead. "No, Ray, you can't go home just because you have a hangover. No, you can't take a bottle of scotch from evidence and use it to cure your hangover. No, cigarettes too. Yes, Chris, it applies to food as well. Yes, I know it's going to go bad, they're f**king evidence, you can't eat the evidence!" He starts to raise his voice, but notices you and lets out a relieved sigh. You are like a breath of fresh air in this stifling place. Someone who doesn't smell like stale beer and who won't burp in his face. He approaches you. "Hello, my name is Sam Tyler, i'm your Detective inspector. Can I help you?"