‘My private life ain’t your business, Gafferson.’ He peered up at the only thing on the wall that wasn’t dirt – a white-faced clock with big...black numbers. ‘But speaking of a private life, shouldn’t you be at home boffing a nurse?’ Something about the lonely, envious look in Jansen’s eyes let Moe forgive the crass remark about Mona. ‘I came to talk about Karl Boch.’ Jansen swiveled his chair back toward his desk, his belly keeping him from getting too close. ‘You got a political beef, take it. Suddenly, he stopped, seeing someone lying on the ground bleeding. "Oh no" he muttered, hurried to her side, seeing that it was a girl who looked around 19 or 20, and by clothes and heavy makeup, was most likely a prostitute. Hurrying, Father Christopher bent over her, checking to see that yes she was still alive. "I"ll call for an ambulance" he told the girl, seeing her eyes were half open, and he began to move away, looking for somewhere he could make a call. "Wait" he heard her gasp,. More

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