‘I really appreciate it,’ I replied, smiling. She looked through the Rolodex and pulled out a card, wrote the address on a slip of paper and hand...d it across the counter to me. I looked down and realized that the address wasn’t too far away. Throwing the overcoat over my arm, I left the store and hung a left, walking down the fairly empty street. A few blocks, past a theater, a coffee shop, a bookstore, and then right down a side street that matched the name written on my card. Numbers passed. He lit a large expensive foreign manufactured cigar, ‘I’m disappointed, very disappointed.’ He looked beyond Bitterman to the man behind him, ‘Tell me Myron. Do you think Mr. Bitterman here deserves another chance?’ From the back of the room Todd Bitterman heard the man pass sentence, ‘No, this guy’s a piece of shit. Let me take him out, dump him in a fifty gallon drum, and blow several dozens holes in it.’ Myron was a psychopath. He lived to kill people, that’s why Camulos kept him around, ‘No. More

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