The super had an office partitioned off with chicken wire from the rest of the cellar. In it were a rolltop desk, an antique television set, and a swivel chair, in which sat the super. The smell of bad wine oozed out of the place. He looked at me with no sign of recognition or welcome.
I said, "I want to use your phone."
He said, "There's a pay phone at the drugstore across the street. I ain't running no charity here."
I said, "There's a dead person in room thirteen, and I am going to call the police and tell them. If you say anything to me but yes, sir, I will hit you at least six times in the face."
From the Godwulf Manuscript by Robert B. Parker
Your Tiny Hand Is Frozen
1 hour ago