Chapter Eleven'Are you all right, Sergeant?' Silver looked up from the pile of documents with which he shared his desk.
'I've been better,' Watters admitted as he slumped in his chair. 'Our commander in chief is miffed that we have not yet captured his ghost.' He produced his pipe and stuffed tobacco into the bowl. 'The country is at war, we have murders and assaults in the Highway, we have what could be a major case involving Karin Stegall, and we are wasting our time chasing after a non-existent ghost that only nervous maids and bottle-headed little boys can see.'
'We failed in our duty,' Silver reminded quietly, 'Larkin is right in that, at least.'
'Larkin can go to hell,' Watters voiced his frustration.
'He will,' Silver said, 'but not today.' He leaned back, puffing at his pipe. '
