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That's when she became really bitter and angry. I think that until then she hoped you'd come back. She showed me the letter, it was cold and heartless. I couldn't believe it was from you; it was so out of character. But when it's there in black and white..." So Peter, you couldn't believe I would have written such a letter. But she did – easily! How it was that when I had no memory of any of you here, I was able to write such a letter? I assume I signed it. Have you seen my signature since I've been able to write?"I got some paper and a pen, wrote my name and slid it over to him.Peter sighed, "It was a forgery."I smiled. Nothing more was said. There was nothing more to say, but as they were leaving Greta as usual hugged me, and Peter shook my hand.They left and Jenny gave me a hug."Very restrained," she smiled, "but if they've any brains they'll realise that Derek's involved in your attempted murder. Now it's time for a little relaxation."She led me upstairs and undressed me, then. It was now time forhim to finally meet the woman that had vexed him all this time.When Loudon entered the room, Wexler seemed startled to the point ofbeing upset. Loudon knew that the prissy little man hated him. It wasthe only fact about Wexler that Loudon felt he could ever like aboutthe man. She didn't stop until the door with no handle behind herclicked and swung open. She could not turn to see who had entered theroom. She saw only a distorted reflection in the black glass wallopposite from where she sat. There, the vague shape of a tall man withan older appearance in a black suit, with a white shirt and red tiestood reflected in the dark glass. "Agent Loudon...Sir," the puny, pudgy man with the electronic clipboardsaid, sounding rattled. "I was just..." Bullshit you little rat," Loudon said contemptuously. "I've beenwatching while you tortured this poor woman. Get the fuck out." Thefat little man scrambled up and out, using the opposite side of thetable for an escape.
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