The office was dimly lit. A fan wobbled lazily overhead, and a wreath of smoke had gathered like a private smog beneath the hat-brim of the man lounging behind the desk.
Lucille Appleby knocked daintily before she entered, pausing in the doorway and throwing a truly dramatic silhouette.
"I'm looking for Zombie Cop," she drawled. "They tell me he's a man who - gets results."
The seated figure stirred only a little, turning to look at her. His eyes seemed to glow in the smoky shadows, almost as brightly as the end of his cigarette.
"Are you the man?" She asked, when he made no response.
On the wall, a clock ticked noisily; sounds of traffic filtered sluggishly in through the windows. Finally, he opened his mouth.
"Unnnnnh," Zombie Cop groaned, slowly creaking to his feet. The movement cleared the smoke and she saw a face that was long-nosed, strong-jawed, and slightly grey. Oddly empty eyes stared at her from beneath thick, mysterious eyebrows. A little tendril of smoke wove into the air through a slightly ragged hole in his cheek. Lucy smiled and held out her hand - he stared at her, making no move to shake it. Finally she shrugged, and dug into her purse for a cigarette of her own.
"Got a light?"
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