He had a white dress shit, he was wearing some old white dirty shoes and black socks. He had blue eyes, white hair, he had really tan skin and did eve...yone else that lived in the villages. He had a lot of wrinkles on his face, he had big strong veiny wrinkly hands. I put my pants on as he was coming towards me because this wasn't a place to have sex, we could easily be seen. He asked me where should we go, I told him to come to my house. We then walked to my house, I asked him how old is he. “I am here to speak to Mrs. Misk about her husband’s untimely death.”“Are you investigators?” Mr. Carrington asked, his voice filled with utter suspicion.I smiled. “I was a correspondent of Mr. Misk,” I said, casually. Such a lie was easier and easier to bring forth, I had to admit. “He was interested in my technological specifications – I in his library.”“Oh, Wesley,” a feminine voice called out. “Do let...” There was a pause, then an audible sniffle. “Let them in, it is raining frightfully. More

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