The
startled look shared between Wallace and McCabe could have passed for a
priest’s embarrassed forgetfulness over not praying before he passed out the
crackers. I had hit a soft spot, and a red-faced Wallace darted toward his door
while mumbling something about being right back.
So,
these high-level muckety-mucks didn’t think to look in their own closets before
trying to squeeze something out of me. But I wanted to know more about the
torture inflicted on my late boss of nearly two days. “How much electrical
current can a cattle prod generate? And what parts of his body were prodded? I
hope you are not going to say what I think, because that really would make it aggravated
torture. What kind of weapon was used in the shooting and has it been
recovered?”
