Isaiah Bartlet talks with the police officer in the courtyard while Reginald walks into the building.
"We'll need to speak with this Baines," says the officer to Isaiah.
"Make sure he checks in with us."
Reginald Wilkins enters the building. The foyer smells, pieces of mail litter the floor, and a puddle of vomit is in the corner. The left wall is a bank of mailboxes, each labeled with apartment number and last name. An inner door leads into the apartment building proper.
The elevator is broken. An inverted whirlpool of concrete and shadow, the tenement stairwell drags up Reginal past bad smells, baby screams, staticky radios. On the fourth floor the book dealer sees the police at the end of the hallway before the door of an apartment. Reginald explains to the lieutenant about Isaiah Bartlett and the investigation. While not familiar with the murder investigation, the lieutenant is aware of it.
"You think this is connected? How? What do you know about the shooting?" he asks, scratching his forehead.
"Well look around, but don't take anything."
The two-bedroom apartment walls are covered with strange and exotic drawings; foreign books are scattered about; strange small statues and sculptures sit atop the books. Reginald sees a pile of old pages ripped free from an unseen book; his missing
Unauspralichen Kulten pages! Piles of mail are littered about, many bearing return addresses in Amsterdam and New York. The place stinks of incense and after shave and something else, something pungent and bitter, a reptile house perfume. Reginald continues looking, wondering if this warrants Isaiah's presence as well.
Baines catches up to the fleeing thief, whacks him on the back and he stumbles. The BOI agent stands over him.
The boy throws the wallet and notebook at Baines legs.
"I was just lookin for food and found your stuff!" He's starts to cry crocodile tears which Baines thinks aren't real. A few passer-byes stop to see what is going on.
"Me and my sister need money to eat! We ain't got no dad! Stop hitting me!"
