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L.A. Noire Walkthrough Part 76: "The Set Up" (1 of 9)

Check out part 77 of this L.A. Noire walkthrough and beat "The Set Up" with this online demo.

Transcript

Roy: You like the fight game, Phelps?

Cole: I did a little boxing in the Marines. I found it a pretty humbling experience.

Vendor: Fix you a sandwich, buddy? Corned beef and egg salad, twelve cents. Bologna, ham, and cheese, ten.

Roy: It's strictly a mug's game. You'll like this fight though. A plucky limey is about to take a beating from an up and coming negro.

Cole: You sound pretty sure about the result.

Roy: I ought to be. I got fifty bucks on the black kid. Let's get a ringside seat. That son of a bitch Hammond made a run for his dressing room! Let's find out what's going on.

Carlo: Goddamn you, Albert! You get out here right now!

Cole: Step back. LAPD. What's going on?

Carlo: That son of a bitch Hammond has jammed the door.

Cole: And who are you?

Carlo: Carlo Arquero. I'm his manager.

Trainer: I'm his trainer.

Cole: Interesting attitude to have towards a victorious athlete.

Carlo: Victorious? We had an arrangement. We had a goddamned arrangement!

Roy: That limey bastard was paid to take a nap. He reneged.

Cole: And you're out of pocket?

Roy: Damn right. Me and a couple of hundred other people.

Cole: Stand aside.

Roy: He squeezed out the window. I'll put an APB out on him.

Cole: Why would we do that? He won the fight fair and square.

Roy: To prevent him from getting clipped. He was paid to flop. There was big money riding on this fight.

Cole: So are we here because you lost money, or because we're investigating a prizefighting racket?

Roy: Very funny. Look around and see what you can find.

Cole: Which is Hammond's locker?

Trainer: Over by the pinboard. Second from the end.

Cole: There's a phone number we can run by R&I. Plus, a bunch of names and odds. You're not the only one who likes a flutter, Roy.

Mickey: You better find that cocksucker, and you bring him to me.

Carlo: I feel bad too, Mickey. He guaranteed me he would take the flop.

Mickey: I guarantee that you will be fish food if you don't bring me... Roy, you out of pocket too?

Roy: Mickey. Seems that way.

Mickey: Don't worry about it. My boys are out looking for him.

Cole: Well, you had better call them off. This is a police matter now. If anything happens to Hammond, I'll testify that you made threats against him.

Mickey: Who's the greyhound? He's a frisky one, isn't he?

Roy: Cole Phelps. Mickey Cohen.

Cole: I know who he is, Roy. I met his brother-in-law.

Roy: I think you had the Mickster pretty scared back there.

Cole: Operator, give me dispatch.

Operator: Putting you through now.

Cole: Cole Phelps, badge 1247..

Dispatch: How can I help, detective?

Cole: I need an address for the following phone number: AL345.

Dispatch: The address for the phone number is the Hotel El Mar, 6294 Leland Way, Hollywood.

Cole: Thanks.

Roy: You know the place?

Cole: Flophouse. Quarter a night and no questions asked. You seem to have a pretty cozy relationship with Cohen and Stompanato.

Roy: Do I note a hint of reprimand in your tone, detective? Talking to gangsters comes with the turf. You should try out Mickey's place. He's got a haberdashers up on Sunset. See if he can get you of those old man's clothes that you slink around in.

Cole: It's a front for his illegal activities.

Roy: It is that, but he does carry some very sharp suits.

Cole: If it's okay with you, I'll stick with Brooks Brothers.

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