During detention she orchestrated Ray Plote's murder. Listening on the dimlit landing, he saw Roding’s face muscles tighten. “Why are you so distant? Why all the mystery? What are you, a narc? Double-oh-seven or something?” She steeled herself, refusing to react. " Many wrinkles appeared at the corners of Ah Cum's slant eyes—as if the sun hurt—but the rest of his face remained as passive as a graven Buddha's. ’ ‘What about the lad?’ said the captain suddenly. . Mr. Wood obeyed. ” “I suppose not.
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