"I'd rather you wouldn't move suddenly, Mr. Legion," he said. He coughed, his eyes on mine. "My nerves aren't what they used to be." The gun was still on me.
"Which side are you working for?" I said. "And can I put my shoes on, or are you afraid I'll pull a gat out of my sock?"
He rested the pistol on his knee. "Get completely dressed, Mr. Legion."
"Sorry," I said. "No can do. No clothes."
He frowned slightly. "My jacket will be a little small for you," he said. "But I think you can manage."
I was sitting on the bed again. "I'm going to get out a cigarette," I said. "Try not to shoot me." I reached for a package on the table, lit up. His eyes stayed on mine.
"How come you didn't figure I was dead?" I asked, blowing smoke at him.
"We checked the house," he said. "No body."
"Why, you incompetent asses. You were supposed to think I drowned."
"That possibility was considered. But we made the routine checks anyway."