"Let me guess," Tuck said, "he told you that Morty was in an important meeting and couldn't be disturbed."

"Yeah, that was it," I confirmed. "It's the perfect excuse to send any visitor away. But I was already paranoid because I had found your hat in the hallway."

"My hat!" Tuck exclaimed, realizing for the first time that he had lost his trademark fedora somewhere along the way. "Don't look at me, I'm naked," he said while covering his head.

"Oh for God's sake," I snapped. "Tuck, you're fine!"

"Well, until I get my hat back," Tuck pleaded, "no picture taking, OK? Anyway, I'm glad you were paranoid. But how did you get in? You convinced the guard it was important?"

"Not exactly," I said. "I figured you had to be in there because of your hat, and when I got close enough, I could hear Morty talking about all kinds of crazy stuff. No way was I going to just turn around and leave."

Tuck's eyes opened wide. "My God Jack, you didn't kill him, did you?"

"Fortunately, I didn't have to," I said. "Just having to do it once was bad enough." I looked down at Tyrone's body, and could hardly believe what I had done. I was probably having a delayed reaction, and the real impact would hit me later, but I felt guilty already. Still, I knew I had to do it, or Tuck would be dead and Morty would be free to do whatever he was going to do next.

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