Shortly after, he handed me one of the glasses with a couple of fingers of Scotch in the bottom. I sniffed, and sipped; I welcomed a slight burning in...my mouth and the first warming of my middle.“This is nice,” I commented.“It’s a good blend,” Frank said. “Do you need a little water with that?”I thought about it. “Maybe,” I admitted.“Tell me you don’t want ice...” he smiled. I raised an eyebrow. “The whole point of whisky, to my mind, is the taste. If you chill it with ice it’s a nonsense. You. Look, I can show you, it's in my pocket!"Van pulled the case out and held it up. Bobby took a glance at it and put it in a pocket of his jeans."So what happened after that?" asked Bobby in a voice so soft that Van had to strain to hear it."Nothing! I just got the fuck out of there." So Julie shot you, and you just left. She didn't try to shoot you again? She just let you go?"Van thought furiously. He thought if he told Bobby that Julie was lying on the floor dead when he left, he'd probably. More

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