Scene: exterior, Boston Police Department. A smartly dressed individual walks toward the main doors and is accosted by a street person who grabs his hand.
    The man recoils with an expression of disgust, glances at his hand. His expression changes completely. The beggar passes him a photograph. The man walks into the building, checks his driver's license and wanders among desks until he finds the matching name. He sits down, looks around until he finds the not-very-well-hidden password, starts up the computer. Scans in the picture, runs an ID check on a circled individual. Prints out hardcopy, waves vaguely at someone who says hello in passing. Walks back outside, back to where the beggar waits, passes him the information and the photograph and goes back inside.
    The beggar folds the papers, tucks them into a pocket of his ragged trenchcoat, and shambles off, whistling happily.

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