Ruthless Restraint

At the Kensington Mansion, Vance leaned back on the sofa, a cigarette held between his long fingers. The white smoke stood out sharply against the quiet night.

"You know, smoking in the middle of the night only makes it harder to sleep," a voice suddenly broke the silence.

Vance glanced at the approaching Bram. "I didn't ask you to come."

"You're my patient. I need to check on you," Bram replied.