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Dear william i enclose your check which i was not

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Unformatted text preview: he chair and the railing, I saw the sniper. The courthouse had an oddly flattened dome, on top of which was a small cupola with four open windows. He'd made his nest there, and when I first saw him he was peeking just above the sill of one of the windows. He appeared to have a black face with white hair, and this sent more chills through my body. We were dealing with a world-class psycho. He was reloading, and when he was ready he rose slightly and began shooting completely at random. He appeared to be shirtless, which, given the situation, seemed even stranger since it was around thirty degrees with a chance of light snow later in the afternoon. I was freezing and I was wearing a rather handsome wool suit from Mitlo's. His chest was white with black stripes, sort of like a zebra. It was a white man who'd painted himself partially black. All traffic was gone. The city police had blocked the streets and cops were darting about, squatting low and hiding behind their cars. In the store windows an occasional face popped out for a quick scan, then disappeared. The shooting stopped and the sniper ducked low and disappeared for a while. Three county deputies dashed along a sidewalk and into the courthouse. Long minutes passed. Wiley Meek bounded up the steps of my office and was soon beside me. He was breathing so hard I Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html thought he'd sprinted from his house out in the country. "He hit us!" he whispered, as if the sniper could hear. He was examining the broken glass. "Twice," I said, nodding up at the broken panes. "Where is he?" he asked as he moved a camera with a long-range lens into position. "The cupola," I said, pointing. "Be careful. He hit that door when I opened it." "Have you seen him?" "Male, white, with black highlights." "Oh, one of those." "Keep your head down." We stayed huddled and crouched for sever...
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