James was about to answer when the constable already turned away and asked for... his name? The priest's name? The suspect's name? The priest seemed confused as well and that seemed rather funny to James. So he decided to add to the confusion. "I saw lots of things... like... I saw a cat when we were passing the Red Lion Bank, and I saw a cloud that looked like a hand. And I saw that your shirt was hangin' out of yer trousers at the back. And I saw the priest and Ruth. And I saw that someone was taking a piss in the harbour. What did you see?" He smiled at the constable, his palms pressing on the seat beside his legs, his feet still swinging back and forth under the chair.

Wesley immediately frowned at both as if they were the most uneducated lot he'd ever had in the building. "I need your names. I have two pages here, one for each of you. We have just started. And I will ask to identify the suspect if you are able to when we arrive there. For now, I need your names. Both of you. And when I want information on why you are here and the report of what has happened, I will make it clear. Alright? And what you saw today has absolutely nothing to do with the incident we are reporting." He said to the boy before looking down at his paperwork. If it hadn't been for the priest to obviously know how to read, he'd have had him sign some confessions to get out of his hair and maybe lock the man away. He'd have a lot of fun with the man sealed away behind bars.

While he could not help but crack a genuine smile at the child's antics, Malachi quickly dismissed it in favor of a more serious look when Roberts spoke.

“Alright. Thank you, sir,” he gave a dutiful nod. “Malachi Brennan. Do you need my middle name?”

"James Malachi Longbottom," James blurted out right after the priest had given his name. Oh he did want to report Bram, but getting the constable all riled up was just so tempting.

Wesley was about to answer Malachi when the boy answered. "Named Malachi too? Interesting but we don't need middle names I think. First and last should be enough to identify. Now.. do you have an address you csn be reached?"

He looked from the priest to the boy. He wasn't certain if the kid had a home and if he did, did he know the address?

Malachi didn't take his eyes off of the constable and his paperwork, seemingly unaffected by the use of his name.

"The church," he said first, as if that was all the answer needed... but he quickly followed with the address of the church after that.

James wondered what it was like to live in the church. Did the priest sleep in the pews? Surely if he'd just move ever so lightly in his sleep, he would roll off and fall on the floor. Perhaps he slept on the altar. It had to be nice to have a bed made of gold, though James imagine it made a hard bed to sleep on. Maybe that was why the man was so tall and thin. James mentally pictured him being flattened out from sleeping on such a hard surface like a kneaded ball of dough that sat too long on a counter. Still, it was a golden bed.

"Near Tate Hill Pier... oh... or Mr. and Mrs. Meijer's farm," he replied to the constable's question, quietly contemplating the priesthood as an alternative career choice to pirate.

Wesley frowned at Malachi about to lecture him on his self centered belief in there being only one church when the man provided the address. "Alright, then it isn't 'the church' it is THAT St. Hilda's church. Catholic." He added, was the disapproval that obvious? It didn't matter.

He looked over at James and rose his brow. "Two homes?" He wrote them down, with a note to search for the location of the Meijer farm. "Can you be more specific on the first location? There are multiple homes there." Could it be the one in most need of repair? Sounds of yelling from inside? Bottles lining up near the door frame? Either way, he was sure he could find it with a little digging.

"Occupation." He said to Malachi but quickly cut in to James. "You are a student, or you should be."

Quite clearly startled by the constable’s disapproving correction, Malachi frowned and kept his mouth shut. What did the difference in label matter? He still gave the address.

He sat back, disgruntled, and waited silently until Roberts called on him again to answer.

“Roman Catholic priest,” he said, because ‘priest’ probably wouldn’t cut it for this guy, would it?

James watched the constable curiously as he corrected the priest. He looked like an angry school master. "It's uh... when you go down to the ghaut next to the Duke of York and then you move left... or is it right? That way." He pointed left. "Down an alley, but you have to be careful where you step because there's some pavement missing and the privy you pass is leaky I think. Uhm. There's a work yard there. And there's a bike in front of our home, least there was one. I don't know where it is now. And I'm not a student it's the summer break."