Everybody always goes to the docks for information, so you know it's a good place to dig up proverbial dirt. You head there just after sunset, ready to crack some heads to get what you need to know. You arrive amidst a crew of workers, who stand in place to look at you as you enter the scene. "I need to know about the man with the black cape and mask. Who wants to start talking?"
One man steps forward. "You know what," he says, "I'll start talking. Let me talk for a minute about how I can't go one damned night without some wannabe super hero coming down here and threatening me for information just because of where I work. Why the hell would any information you need be at the docks in the first place? And, what, you're going to beat me up to make sure I'm as ignorant as I say? Why don't you go back and tell your little super hero buddies to stop coming down here, stop messing with my work and my workers, and stop assuming all the answers just float in to the docks every night!"
"Oh," you reply. "Wow." The guilt clings to you even as you wake up.