I gave up the private detective business three years ago. I’m a different man, now. I have a family. I work on boats now. The big ships. I draw pictures of them and sell them to people that live in landlocked states. I have a future.
I can’t help you. I don’t care about the package of feathers you received last week. You can spend your own time glueing them under your arms and taking photos of yourself in the mirror. I have old copies of the yellow pages to skim through and obscene last names to circle.
Your “clues” are meaningless. There is no big secret going on. This is a quiet town filled with quiet people many of whom have forgotten how to speak altogether. The most they can do is make sorta whale noises, and not even with their mouths! There is nothing suspicious about that! They shift their weight every couple hours.
Look—– I don’t want to be drawn into anything here. I’m not interested in where my water comes from as long as it doesn’t taste too strongly of clowns.
You’re not hearing me…
I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THIS SO-CALLED ORPHEUS PROJECT!
DAMNIT GET AWAY!