"The doctor - oh my God, Mr. Crane, how much do we owe you? What in the world happened to my poor son?" Her eyes wandered to her drink before fixing back on him. "Shut up, James!" she snapped back at her son before looking back to the constable.

Meanwhile, the bartender whipped out a pitcher and topped it up, sliding it toward whoever that familiar-seeming fellow of Constable Crane's was.