1 The Question Of The Missing Head - Plot & Excerpts
Ms. Washburn, sitting in the driver’s seat of her car, did not look at me because she was concentrating on the road. And her inflection was difficult for me to read. I hadn’t done anything; I was sitting quietly in the passenger’s seat, mentally going over the last meeting with Ackerman and trying to understand what had happened. “Do what?” I asked. “Tell Ackerman that I did what you wanted me to do. I could have taken the heat for what happened, and you would have been able to go on trying to find the answer to the question.” My eyes were tired, and I rubbed them with my thumb and index finger. “What I said was true,” I told Ms. Washburn. “You did do what I wanted you to do. There was no point in denying it.” “Sure there was. You could have kept the job.” She made a turn onto US Highway 1 heading north. We would be back at my home in fourteen minutes at this speed.
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