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L.A. Noire Walkthrough Part 47: "The Silk Stocking Murder" (7 of 7)

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Phelps: The handbag was left just up there, overlooking the market.

Galloway: We could have come here from the start and saved ourselves a day's legwork.

Phelps: Sir, I'm... wait. You look familiar.

Feeney: Hey. From the bar, right? What brings you here?

Phelps: LAPD. Detective Phelps and Galloway.

Feeney: Clem Feeney. What can I do for you?

Phelps: Did you happen to see a young woman last night, 21 years old, Hispanic?

Feeney: Sure, she came by last night. Why do you ask?

Phelps: She was wearing a necklace?

Feeney: I didn't notice.

Phelps: You weren't paying attention, Feeney?

Feeney: Hey, you're getting the wrong idea.

Phelps: Exactly how much fruit do you sell here after midnight, Clem?

Feeney: Ah... look, not much. I sell the odd bottle on the side, to the after hours crowd. I don't want any trouble. I'm just trying to make a buck.

Phelps: The young lady arrived around midnight?

Feeney: Yeah, something like that. Used the phone for a cab and then left.

Phelps: You already knew Mrs. Maldonado, didn't you, Clem?

Feeney: Sure, I'd met her before. She seemed like a nice lady. Her husband went apeshit one day when he caught me talking to her. She hadn't been back until last night.

Phelps: Where did she go from here?

Feeney: She wanted a cab, but I couldn't get her one. I was about to offer to drive her, but a car pulled up and she got into that.

Phelps: Can you describe the car?

Feeney: A brown Ford coupe, I think. She seemed to know the guy.

Phelps: Do you mind if we look around?

Feeney: Why would you want to do that?

Galloway: Because we say so.

Feeney: I guess you can. Don't you have to get a court order or something? I have rights.

Galloway: Clem, shh. No wonder why he stays open late at night. People have to get their vitamins. Check through this stuff before we get back out there.

Phelps: Why cut someone who's already dead?

Galloway: It's a typical power thing. Once the stiff is dead, the creep usually feels they can do whatever they like. You must have seen it during the war.

Phelps: So what are we hiding in here? This thing needs a combination.

Galloway: This fruit stall punk gets about ten seconds to explain before I pull his fucking arms off.

Phelps: Clem!

Galloway: Goddammit, get after him, Cole! I'll try to shoot out his tires. Wish me luck! We should have grabbed him when we had the chance, Phelps.

Phelps: When we had the chance, we didn't know he was our guy!

Galloway: Phelps, you've got to get me closer.

Phelps: Strange that he'd leave a trail of blood right back to his own market.

Galloway: Maybe he wanted to get caught. A lot of them do.

Phelps: It's almost too perfect, isn't it?

Galloway: There's no such thing as too perfect. Hit him. Clear this asshole off the road. I'll try to shoot out his tires. Wish me luck.

Phelps: You're a sick man, Clem. You need help.

Cpt. Donnelly: Outstanding job on this case, gentlemen. The poor woman can now rest in peace. I'll pay the fiend a personal visit myself, and remind him that crime in this city does not go unpunished. When they've finished with him at the Receiving Hospital, we'll have him up before the Grand Jury. I have a meeting this afternoon with the Mayor, lads. I'll be sure to mention your names. Now, on your way.

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