There's the job, and there's life. They pay me to hate the goddamn Vox, and I take their money, but ... what's the harm of having a drink with Fitzroy's people? Face to face at the Graveyard Shift, why, they're ... they're just folk. Hell, I guess I fell into the goddamn bottle, because I stumbled back without the evidence locker key. If Schmidt finds out ... well, there'll be hell to pay.