Next morning:

Turtle detective is now at "Frank's bar and grills", investigating Frank in disguise without letting Frank realise that Turtle is investigating.

As he steps into the bar, he takes a look around. The bar is quite empty, as it's early in the morning. Frank sits in a corner, either drinking a cup of coffee or eating a plate full of pancakes, Turtle can't tell.

A fat, ugly man with a beard sits next to him, drinking a cup of coffee. A pretty waitress with a large apron appears to take his order. He attempts to gain information from the pretty waitress by charming her.

Turtle smiles at the waitress, and begins to flirt. He hopes it will work, as he needs to get some information that he is terribly behind in.

"Hello," he says. "You are a very pretty girl. Your hair is long and beautiful. I like the colour, it reminds me of the inside of a sunflower. Your name is Sunshine, isn't it? You would look very pretty wearing a sunflower."

The waitress stares at him in confusion.

"I like the colour of your eyes," Turtle continues, "they are like... green! I like green, too, it's my favourite colour."

The waitress seems to be even more confused.

"I like the shape of your lips," Turtle says, "they are like the petals of a beautiful flower. If I had lips like that, I would kiss you right now."

Waitress: ".... what?" giving him a look that says "Back off, weirdo."

Turtle's smile becomes bigger and bigger.

"What can I get for you?" she asks with a deadpan face, avoiding the awkwardness.

"I'd like a small coffee, and a slice of pie,"

"You want pie?" she asks incredulously. "You want pie for breakfast? That's weird."

"Ahem...Not pie," Turtle says. "Pancakes."

Waitress: "We don't have pancakes."

Turtle: "Then give me a small coffee and a slice of toast."

Waitress: "We don't have toast either. We have cereal, or we have oatmeal. Or I could make you a bowl of cereal if you want. They're all on the house today."

Turtle: "No, no, just give me a good booze, then."

Waitress: "I can't serve alcohol to customers before noon."

Turtle: "Fine. Just coffee, then."

Waitress: "Alright. I'll be back shortly."

Turtle: "Thank you."

He waits patiently for the waitress to return with his drink. As he waits, he takes out his notepad and writes a few things.

He tips the waitress some cash for info.

She gives a happy smile and walks away. He smiles back.

When she gets back with his coffee, he takes out more notes. He sips at his coffee and the waitress tells him everything she knows.

She tells him that Frank is usually here in the morning, but sometimes he sleeps in late in the afternoon. The ugly man named Bud works here in the afternoon, Bud works the night shift, so she doesn't see him until then. After Bud comes the grim-looking guy who wears a baseball cap all the time. He works the late shift, which ends at night.

"I just work here, I don't make the rules."

"Thanks," he says, writing it all down.

"You got a name?" she asks. "You're not a cop, are you?"

"No. I'm a crime fiction writer. Name is Olaf, but I have another name. You can call me Darling." Turtle winks.

"Really? What do you write?"

He tells her about his book, then asks her what she knows about the bar. He listens to her talk about the bar for a few minutes, then pulls out his phone and asks her number out.

"You are really beautiful. That's not a lie. I'd go out with you just for those lips."

She smiles. "Maybe later, handsome."

She walks away, sashaying her hips through the swing door. He smiles after her, then returns to his writing.

He waits another hour, when the grim-looking bartender finally comes out. He pays the bartender for info about Frank and this bar.

The bartender gives him the usual, giving out as little useful info as he can. He gives Turtle a drink, too, which he scoffs at.

"Thanks," he says.

Turtle now goes to talk with the owner Farnk. Turtle tells him he's a writer. Frank seems like good man.

"I write detective stories. I want to do a story on the Turtle Inn. So, I'm researching inns and bars."

"Sure, sure. Why not?" Fank shrugs.

"I want to get the atmosphere, the feel of the place. Go with you guys on patrol, go inside the Inn. Take pictures. Whatever you think would work best."

"Sure, sure. Go ahead."

Turtle decides on a plan. He needs to get every info to solve the murder crime. He is now disguising himself as the writer.

Turtle : What do you think of your rival bar Blue Dream?

Farnk : " Eh. It's better than my bar, that's for sure. They're always trying to replace us."

Turtle : Why is that?"

Farnk : "Because they're fucking peasants. They don't know shit about running a business, that's why. I'd like to get my hands on the little bastard that runs that place. I know his father owned the old inn here, but that's fucking peanuts compared to what his son is doing."

Turtle : "Do you know much about him?"

Farnk : "Only that he's a rich dickhead that thinks he's a real urban cowboy. Has a son about your age, too. Hasn't come here since he was a kid. Don't know why the hell he'd come now."

Turtle : "When's the last time you saw him?

Farnk : "Couple weeks ago, I think."

Turtle : "What does his son do?"

Farnk : "What does anybody do? Fucks bitches, drinks booze, makes money."

Turtle : "How so? What's the son do for a living?"

Farnk : "He's a fucking drug dealer."

Turtle : "Really? What type of drugs?"

Farnk : "I don't know! All I know is the son of a bitch sells drugs on my territory. I'm talking about crystal meth, the stuff they sell in public bathrooms."

Turtle : "So he's a dealer. What's the deal?"

Farnk : "There's a war going on, now. Between the users and the fucking distributors. The users are winning, but that little bastard is making money hand over fist. That's what needs to change."

Turtle : "How?"

Farnk : "Kill him. Or break his business. I don't give a fuck what. I don't want that little shit selling drugs on my territory."

Turtle : "Well, if you wanted to do that, you'd just break into his place and steal the drugs, right? Why does the inn need to be involved at all?"

Farnk : "Because I don't want some ratting little dealer rat to tell on me. I got a reputation to protect, you know. I don't want some little snitch telling my bartender that I broke into their place like a thief."

Turtle : "So, you want the son to suddenly have a heart attack from all the stress of dealing drugs. That would solve your problem."

Farnk : "Well, that'd help..."

Turtle : "I don't think you're going to get that lucky, pal. The son sounds pretty damn tough. The only stress he needs to endure is attempting to not die from a drug overdose."

Farnk : "You seem to have given this a fair amount of thought. I'm not asking you to be my mole or anything, but what do you think? If you were in my position, would you want to do the same thing?"

Turtle : "I don't know. I'm just a writer. But, I understand your situation. I need to go now."

Farnk doesn't respond, and just continues stirring his drink.

Turtle takes this as his answer and leaves.