Tuesday, March 20


The meeting with K has had me all mixed up, scattered my thoughts like ashes on the wind. I can't understand why she's helping me. Might just be my winning smile, but I don't like the taste of that biscuit. No, she has some sort of motive. Could be that she's working for Thompson herself, to gain my trust and put me off the scent. But why go to the trouble? Why not just kill me and have done it with it?

To top it all, everytime I turn my head I get a faint taste of that perfume, and it all comes rushing back in an arctic breeze.

Lights off, whiskey cradled in my hand, I gaze through the blinds of my office at the world outside. It's cold tonight, no-one moves. I try to decide whether to sleep here, or head home to my apartment. These days, the office is more home to me. Besides, the flat has dreadful views. I feel trapped there, stuck in the dark, waiting for the alcohol rush to pass and a new day to dawn.

None of it is getting me anywhere. I still don't know where to find Thompson, and I've still got nothing on Seth's cousin.

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