“Climb onto the table,” I ordered Dmitri. “Sit there.”
He pulled himself up from the floor and complied, staring me down with an annihilatory stare.
“I want to know one thing,” I said, pressing the gun to his forehead. “What do you know about my wife’s death?”
The gun didn’t seem to bother him. “I promote life, not death.”
“Right.” I motioned to the chemicals on the table. “What the hell is this?”
“The universe provided these instruments,” he answered calmly. “It’s only natural that the brain and...
Published on December 16, 2013 02:00