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And that would have been it. Given what happened next, I don’t think I would ever have seen Michael Crew again, if it wasn’t for the simple fact that his cheque bounced.
I have a small jar on my desk of what are supposed to be her ashes, though I don’t believe it for a second. I think Martin just gave me a jar of dust to try and calm me down.
“Tim, this place is very old. It has all sorts of… idiosyncrasies and not all of them are good for the people who work here.”
“I think I’d prefer asbestos.”
“(gasp) Don’t move! And, don’t you come any closer, okay?! I’ve got a, I’ve got a knife!”
“Do you? That would seem wildly out-of-character, from what I’ve been told.”