I thought I recognized you." Really? He remembered me looking like Swamp Thing? How flattering.

You got a little bit of an attitude, Mr. English, if you don't mind my saying so. I don't mind.

He said you were on the scene when that Laurel Canyon homicide went down.” “I’m lucky that way,” I said. “So are you two square again?” I halted, mid-ripping open the cookies, and stared at him. “Well, he’s pretty square,” I said. “I’m just a rectangular guy.” With latent triangular tendencies.

I thought again how odd it was to be on formal terms with someone you had once permitted to lick your ears.

You know that thing about Death Be Not Proud? Well, Fear Be Not Proud either. And Fear Be Not Elegant. What Fear be is stumbling, bumbling flight, crashing through brush, slip-sliding on pine needles, sloshing through puddles that are always deeper than you expect.

A pause followed my greeting. Then “We’re watching you ” whispered the voice on the other end. “Yeah? Did you see what I did with my keys? ” Silence. Then dial tone. These younger demons. So easily discouraged.

I didn't approve of murder on general principles. Not even of people who seemed to go around begging for it.