I understand.

I went back inside and opened him up and turned the shower on, using the hot water only. Then I went back to the main room. I studied the features of his buddy, who I then noted bore him something of a resemblance. It struck me that they might be relatives.

When the screaming began, he sought to compose his features. But I could see I was getting through to him.

He tested his restraints once again, looked at my clock, looked at me.

Turn it off. God damn you! he cried.

Your cousin? I asked him.

My half brother! Shut it down, you baboon!

Only if you've got something to say to me.

Okay! But leave him in there and close the door!

I dashed and did it. My head was beginning to clear, though I still felt like hell.

I burned my right hand shutting the thing down. I left my chosen victim slouched there in the steam, and I shut the door behind me as I returned to the main room.

What do you have to say?

Could you give me one free hand and a cigarette?

No, but you can have a cigarette.

How about the right one? I can hardly move it.

I considered, and said, Okay, picking up my gun again.

I lit the stick, stuck it in his mouth, then cut the tape and tore it off his right forearm. He dropped the cigarette when I did it, and I picked it up and restored it to him.

All right, I said, take ten seconds and enjoy yourself. After that, we talk cases.

He nodded, looked around the room, took a deep drag, and exhaled.

I guess you do know how to hurt, he said. If you are not government, I guess your file is very much off.