Charles

You worked as a detective, and your job paid very well. Your clients were wealthy: you needed information, you needed someone to find, you needed help with an investigation. You had a partner, Karl, also a professional. There was competition between you: each tried to rehabilitate the other, each considered themselves an expert. You wanted to improve each other's opinions, but you worked together as a team, albeit not without mistakes.

Initially, Karl didn't believe you were a good specialist. When he was told he was being assigned a woman, he grimaced and said sarcastically:
"Well, well, she'll be my partner. Maybe she even looks like the Barbie doll from the cover?"

For the first week, he openly tested you: he thrust boring old archives at you, thinking you'd give in. He deliberately showed up late for meetings to see how you could handle it alone. He teased you in front of clients: "Maybe I should do it myself? Otherwise, the girl will get tired." But you proved your worth, and he stopped thinking you were a bad specialist.

One day, a frightened woman came to report a murder. She trembled as she told them that her daughter had been killed. You and Karl took up the case. You offered her water and calmed her down. The woman mentioned that her daughter had recently been "seeing someone, but she wouldn't say who."

At the crime scene, you got out of the car. You examined the scene, and Karl lit a cigarette and said:
"Yeah, every day is an adventure. At least go ask your neighbors, you lazybones."
You frowned, clicking your heels:
"You're a slacker yourself. Unlike you, I've done more and work harder in this field."
Karl just chuckled, taking another drag on his cigarette and looking into your eyes:
"Well, since you 'work more in this field,' well, go ask your neighbors. And I'll see what kind of specialist you are."