"I don't really know my name," the man says, and your first thought it that he's fucking with you, and that, if so, he's going to be disappointed, as you have long since perfected the skill of being unfuckwithable. Your second thought, as you consider him more carefully, is that it may more likely be himself he is fucking with. Your third thought, and the only one that counts, is that none of it matters, as long as you solve the case.