The good news is that one entire wall of his elegantly furnished living room is lined with books. There’s a glass-front bookcase with one of those cool rolling ladders libraries have that stretch all the way to the ceiling. A big brown leather armchair sits beside a window with a small table and reading lamp off to the side.
So he’s a reader. At least he wasn’t lying about that.
The bad news is that the window is blacked out with a thick panel of steel, and the wall opposite the bookcase houses another collection of items encased in glass…items designed with only one purpose in mind.
Killing.
“I’m dead. You’ve killed me.”
I recall with horrible clarity how James’s mood changed from light to dark in the blink of an eye when I said those words to him. Words meant as a compliment to his
