Chapter 10I took a deep breath before entering William Archer’s office. Although I had thought about phoning before coming, I knew if I did, I’d get chewed out on the phone, and then again at the office. I knocked on the doorframe. He looked up, glaring at me for a few seconds. I could feel my body pricking from the darts that his eyes were casting.
“I sure as hell hope you have a good excuse for being so late,” he said.
“I don’t know if it’s much excuse,” I said, hoping a little humor might save my job, “but I was mugged and beaten nearly to death.”
A hint of an emotion that might have been construed to be solicitude crossed his face. A moment later his expression returned to stoic. He continued to stare at me. Only the chomping on his cigar showed any variation in his demeanor.
