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lip trembled and his hands were shaking. "Heart cut out," he repeated numbly. |
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Dawkins nodded. "'Course, I'm no judge of such matters, but from the looks of things I'd say that whoever did it had at least a modest amount of surgical talent." |
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Driver stared back at him. |
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"Actually," Dawkins droned, "viewing it objectively, it was a rather tidy accomplishment with a minimum amount of trauma to the chest cavity; a certain lack of technique, though, is evident from the excessive bleeding." |
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Lieutenant Proctor gulped and swallowed hard. An acid taste was swirling around in his mouth. "I'm afraid I'll have to intervene here, Inspector Dawkins. It's my duty to remind you that Colonel Driver is a United States military officer and a U.S. citizen; as such he is entitled to specific counsel before he answers anymore of your questions." |
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Dawkins' face mirrored his impatience. "So what are you telling me, young fella? You telling me I can't talk to him? You telling me I can't talk to him about a woman who was murdered in his house?" |
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Proctor's face flushed. "Not at all, sir," he stammered. The momentary bravado submerged as fast as it had surfaced. |
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"So far, Lieutenant, I haven't charged the |
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