This is a serialized story. Start here for the first episode.
“Jesus, Viv. You don’t have to be some bitchy dame about it. Sure sure, I’ll help you out. Always have, haven’t I?” he grumbled, grinding his cigarette in a graveyard of butts in the overflowing ashtray. He muttered something low and ugly and, with a wave of his hand, coaxed the frost to slink back into the frost-encrusted case like a beaten dog.
“First things first,” he added, his voice a low gravel. “Let’s get that little bit of nasty into containment.”
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