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Chapter 1: The Night Shift
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Chapter 3: The System I
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... ed. He was in his late seventies, at a guess. He wore a thick, tweed overcoat that looked out of place in this part of town, a crisp white shirt, and a neatly tied cravat.
His face was a roadmap of wrinkles, but his eyes were sharp and intelligent, twinkling with an amused curiosity. He looked like a university professor who’d taken a very wrong turn.
Normally, I would have mumbled something non-committal and edged away. But the question, and the exhaustion from my shift, disarme ...
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