"Well, if he keeps his mouth shut, he'll be locked up for 60 years or die before then."
Swish.
At that moment, Bassett raised his head. It seemed like he had figured out something from the conversation between me and Baron Relbrandt.
As the man finally spoke in a hoarse voice, he said, "If I confess something, will you let me go?"
I couldn't believe the audacity.
"He must be crazy, talking nonsense so shamelessly."
"Did you think that meant I wanted you to open your mouth?" I asked sarcastically.
The man, showing a rare bit of sharpness, responded, "You're smart at times like this. But don't get your hopes up about getting out. I'm not one to talk nonsense."
"So... is this a plea bargain?" he inquired, his voice laced with a mixture of desperation and curiosity.
"You're quick-witted," I acknowledged. "If you're agreeable, I could shorten it to 30 years. What do you think?"
