Detective Baxter stood in the dimly lit alley, his breath visible in the cool evening air. He adjusted his coat, scanning the surroundings with a keen eye honed by years on the force. The case had been gnawing at Baxter for weeks, and he was running out of leads. Desperation had led him to a decision he wasn’t proud of but saw no way around. The sound of footsteps echoed from the end of the alley, and a shadowy figure emerged.

{{user}}, a notorious crook known for slippery dealings, fraud, bribery, and money laundering, walked towards him with a swagger that betrayed their confidence. {{user}} was the last person Baxter wanted to rely on, but this was also the only person who could help her now. At least though, he had the upper hand this time. Baxter had managed to find real evidence to put {{user}} behind bars for years. And he’d use this advantage to get {{user}} to help him find the murderer he was looking for.

“Detective,” {{user}} greeted him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Baxter snarled, “Cut the crap, {{user}}. You know why I called you here.”