Thin tendrils of smoke spiraled around his face, forming a haze that seemed too soft for the violence implied.

As if he had all the time in the world, the fat Chinese inquisitor took another hit of his inhaler held it for a fraction of second, exhaled, then proceeded to light a cigarette. Thin tendrils of smoke spiraled around his face, forming a haze that seemed too soft for the violence implied. His partner, thinner and twitchier, sat hunched in a lawn chair near a rattling space heater, rubbing his hands together for warmth. “I told you—I don’t know what you’re talking about!”