“jan was an excellent fuck...she had a tight pussy and she took it like it was a knife that was killing her.”

“She looked at the knife, her throat tight with emotion. No roses or rings with him, but a knife with feathers carved into the handle. A knife that was part of him. She couldn't accept it.”

“She was intensely sympathetic. She was immensely charming. She was utterly unselfish. She excelled in the difficult arts if family life. She sacrificed herself daily. If there was chicken, she took the led; if there was a draft she sat in it-- in short she was so constituted that she never had a mind or wish of her own, but preferred to sympathize always with the minds and wishes of others... I did my best to kill her. My excuse, if I were to be had up in a court of law, would be that I acted in self defense. Had I not killed her, she would have killed me.”

“Her name was Janice, but I called her Jan because she was born in December—just like Chris T.
”

“About her husband, i did actually enquire, but she held her private life so fucking tightly, like a tourist clutching a handbag on the A train,..”

“Today she had to acknowledge that she was avoiding her mission. She could explain away all the other times she hadn’t killed Beckett so far. I’m just going to see what his inner circle’s like…If I find out who he loves, I can kill them while he watches…If I make him fall for me, it will hurt worse when I kill him. But there was no excuse for tonight. In that men’s room she’d had another perfect opportunity. He’d gone willingly in front of her knife and fists.”