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Ménage à Trois. F. Paul Wilson. * * * * Burke noticed how Grimes, the youngest patrolman there, was turning a sicklyshade of yellow-green. He mo-tioned him closer. “You all right?” Grimes nodded. “Sure. Fine.” His pit-iful attempt at a smile was hardlyre-assuring. “Awful hot in here, but I’m fine.” Burke could see that he was anything but. The kid’s lips were as pale as therest of his face and he was dripping with sweat. He was either going to puke orpass out or both in the next two minutes. “Yeah. Hot,” Burke said. It was no more than seventy in the hospital room. “Get some fresh air put in the hall.” “Okay. Sure.” Now the smile was real — and grateful. Grimes gesturedtoward the three sheet- covered bodies. “I just never seen anything like this before,y’know?” Burke nodded |
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