CHAPTER 16AND NEVER BE SURE AGAIN
THE heavy black sedan hurled itself solemnly down the curving road which would finally thrust them all into the lights of the city, and André into the steel shame of a cell in the central jail. No one said anything, not even Brigit, sitting in the back seat with Froody, the only one to whom the ride through the night was prosaic. Tuck glanced once at André. He was sitting pressed against the other door of the car, his hands clasped tightly between his knees, his eyes on the windshield. His face had the grave, accustomed sadness of an urchin’s. After they had traveled for several minutes, he asked hopelessly, “May I smoke a cigarette?”
Tuck extended his own pack sideways toward him. “Push down on that button, and you’ll get a light. It pops up in a second
