"Look, Mister 'Smith,' we can do this easy, or we can do this hard," Sergeant Moffitt growled, leaning in.
"You'll be sorry," the thin man tittered, "when the Spider arrives. He knows. He's coming."
Moffitt sat down heavily. "Buddy, I'm offering you a deal, but it won't last forever. Now are you gonna play ball?"
The perp didn't answer. Just stared up at the ceiling, giggling. Moffitt scooped up his diet-allotted container of cottage cheese. Not staring at the ceiling, he realized, as he swallowed the bland foodstuff. Something closer. Something right over Moffitt's head. Moffitt turned, craning his neck...
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