Swamped

"Well, there's something that's been bothering me for a while. It's about the escapee."

Razor doesn't respond. He probably wants you to get to the point.

"I got ambushed poking my head into a hidden storage room in the Roost. There's no way a newmuck would know anything about that when I bet hardly anyone on our side does. And for that matter, why send Grey-maw to check there? Seems an odd place for a one-armed Bogknight to be hiding."

Razor simply smirks.

"Why, hello, Crook," he calls out. "I was just about to leave, but why don't you join us for a moment?"

Crook wanders over to the table. Wow, he looks nervous. Even more nervous than usual for someone Razor's called over.

"Now, Crook. I understand you were on duty when our prisoner went missing."

"Um. Yes, sir. Very careless of me."

"Careless indeed. Why, I remember seeing you heading down the ladder to the Roost, and found myself wondering when exactly you had learned to write. And you know, it's odd, but I could swear that was right in the middle of your shift."

"Ah, I can explain..."

"Might the explanation be that you were somehow involved in the prisoner's escape?" Razor says. He never was good at sticking to the subtle approach.

Crook looks pale as a sheet. He's clearly searching for an excuse.

Now this is the Razor you know. He's terrifying. You don't know if Crook really helped the escapee or not, but you can't help but pity him.

You can't say you're comfortable with how Razor's handling this, even if it turns out Crook really did do it. Maybe you should intervene. Take over the questioning yourself, try a better approach than this.

But what is that, exactly?