Harrisburg. The Lieutenant Governor's Office.
The click of the phone hanging up was exceptionally sharp.
Aston Monroe's hand was still gripping the receiver.
His fingers trembled. After a few seconds of dead silence, he suddenly burst out laughing.
"Ha! Hahahaha!"
The laughter held no joy, only a hysteria born from utter absurdity.
Paul Turner stood on the other side of the desk, staring at his boss in astonishment.
"Boss? What happened? What did Wallace say?"
Monroe was laughing so hard he was nearly in tears. As he pulled a tissue from its box to wipe his eyes, he pointed at the phone.
"That madman," Monroe said. "Leo Wallace has completely lost his mind."
He stood up, walked over to the liquor cabinet, and poured himself a glass of whiskey. His hand was still unsteady, and a few drops of the liquor splashed onto the desktop.
