When Graveyards Yawn
I pulled my bottom lip. "Looks like the bastard shot you from behind, too."
Billings made fists of his dead hands and pounded the arms of the chair. "I want him!"
"All right," I said. "How'd it happen?"
Mr. Billings looked uncomfortable as he squeaked around in his seat. I knew the look; he was about to be fairly dishonest with me.
"You must realize the importance of--confidentiality." His eyes did a conscientious little roll of self-possession until they came to rest on me again, quivering and uncertain like bad actors. They were indefinite and restless on either side of his hatchet nose. Perfectly unconvincing so far.
"You may not believe this, but under all this makeup, I'm a god-damned angel," I sneered. "Besides, there are few people who take my word seriously." I flashed him a quick idiot grin.
"May I ask?" The dead man nervously pulled out a package of ci
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