No, it's more than that. There's...aberrations. Time is all over the place, and nothing anyone has to say lines up right with everything else.

[ Nathan has his headset on, which means he's at his desk, and the frown lines are pretty well wrought into his forehead. He carries onto himself as though deep in thought: ]

And half the time I wanna crack Caffrey's head open with a tire iron and see if it spills any of the answers.

[ Looks back up. ]

Sorry. It's just turning into one of those days. The harder I force myself to look at this the less sense it makes.