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The Star of Egypt

It doesn't take you long to spot Frank's, the local bar that your suspect frequents. You step inside. The bar is almost completely empty, which makes sense, given that it's still early in the morning. A man wearing black slacks and a white button-up is wiping down one of the tables. He looks up when you come in.

"Hello, miss!" The man has a friendly smile and a mustache as thick as your thumb. "Welcome to Frank's. Just let me know if I can get ya anything."

"Actually, I'm looking for Jacob Moore," you respond with a smile of your own.

"He's right of there," Frank points at the only other person in the establishment, a dirty-looking young man who's slouched over the bar with a beer bottle clutched in his hand.

"Thanks." You turn away from Frank who returns to cleaning the table and walk towards Jacob.

"Um, excuse me?" Jacob remains slouched over the bartop. "Excuse me, Mr. Moore. Can you answer a few questions for me?" You hear a muffled snore as a response.

I'm probably going to regret this, you think just before you box poor Jacob's ears.

"Yow!!!!" Jacob startles awake, jumping in his stool which teeters under his shifting weight before falling back in place. "What da bloody 'ell was dat foh?"

"I'm sorry to wake you, Mr. Moore, but I need to ask you a few questions, if that's alright with you."

"Sure, sure," Jacob waves his hand and takes a swig of his bottle before making a face. "Yuck. Nothin' worse dan warm beeh. Bahtendeh!" He waves Frank over and orders another drink while you formulate your first question.
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