Chapter 19The shriveled apparition was lying on the old couch, occasionally quivering despite the heat which was devouring the lethargic Albuquerque. After he got up from the sofa, the middle-aged man approached the window and for the umpteenth time that day checked whether the heavy wooden shades were locked from the inside, and then he returned to his couch and folded himself into a fetal position. The air in the room was pungent and stale, ready to suffocate the less paranoid and unmindful, but not Jacob Ford. He believed in the protective barrier which the stench of that room provided. He figured that nobody in their sane mind would dare venture inside with any intent of harming him. Every visitor would first have to reach the door and inevitably smell the evil which was sallying forth
