21The next twenty-four hours got me nowhere. I went home, had a few snorts, fixed a peanut butter and tongue sandwich, and went to bed earlier than I had in years. Slept long but badly and refused to go to the office in the morning. Didn't want to face Dotty and her nonsense. Meanwhile I saw no light shining at the end of my dark tunnel, no solutions to my problems either with the coppers or the Llama. I paced back and forth in my apartment like a trapped rat. Then I went out to a neighborhood smoke shop, where I nearly bought a pack of Old Golds. I had quit smoking a few years ago when my wife—she wasn't my ex yet—said I was smelling up our place with my cigarettes and that either I give up my filthy habit or she'd leave me. Surprise. I quit and a month later she ordered me out. I probabl
