She was trembling a little. “Is this true, Annabel? Is he dead?” She nodded. " "Take time to consider of it," replied Wood sulkily, "there's no hurry. “But I—I went to Nigel Ennison for help. She killed a man who was squatting outside of a freezing brick shanty on the southern edge of Chicago as he waited for his dealer. Ennison stood still for a moment, swinging his latchkey upon his finger. If only he had known it, sympathy was almost entirely with him. “Diedermayer’s a kiss-ass. “You are very good,” she said.
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