Цитата #678 из книги «"Этаж смерти" with W_cat»

I flicked the knife at his belly. Slit his greasy shirt.

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I thought about it. I’d walked right by there at eight o’clock on Friday morning. Right between the two bodies.

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“Older,” I said. I gave him Joe’s date of birth. “Two years older than me.”

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“Tell him we need it kept very quiet,” I said. “We don’t want his agents down here until we’re ready.”

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“Finlay was satisfied,” Roscoe told me. “You are who you say you are, and midnight Thursday you were over four hundred miles away. That was nailed down. He called the medical examiner again just in case he had a new opinion on the time of death, but no, midnight was still about right.”

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