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- Ричард Морган
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"
Often
enough
,
but
don
’
t
look
surprised
.
"
She
gave
me
a
bleak
smile
.
"
He
’
s
a
fucking
Meth
.
They
’
re
all
the
same
.
"
It
was
a
side
of
her
I
didn
’
t
like
,
an
argument
I
didn
’
t
want
to
have
and
a
view
of
Bancroft
I
didn
’
t
need
.
And
underneath
it
all
,
my
nerves
were
screaming
for
sleep
.
I
stubbed
out
my
cigarette
.
"
I
think
you
’
d
better
go
,
lieutenant
.
All
this
prejudice
is
giving
me
a
headache
.
"
Something
flickered
in
her
eyes
,
something
I
couldn
’
t
read
at
all
.
There
for
a
second
,
then
gone
.
She
shrugged
,
put
down
the
coffee
mug
and
swung
her
legs
over
the
side
of
the
shelf
.
She
stretched
herself
upright
,
arched
her
spine
until
it
cracked
audibly
and
walked
to
the
door
without
looking
back
.
I
stayed
where
I
was
,
watching
her
reflection
move
among
the
city
lights
in
the
window
.
At
the
door
,
she
stopped
and
I
saw
her
turn
her
head
.
"
Hey
,
Kovacs
.
"
I
looked
over
at
her
.
"
Forget
something
?
"
She
nodded
her
head
,
mouth
clamped
in
a
crooked
line
,
as
if
acknowledging
a
point
in
some
game
we
’
d
been
playing
.
