(Here is the link to the predecessor: http://fav.me/d8oavbk)
The time was midnight of Friday morning. The scene was the ground floor, in the half-lit kitchen. A single lamp swaying above a kitchen table illuminated the motionless cast below. Four people in the kitchen, and all was dead silent.
Norway, seated at the kitchen table, was the perfect picture of calm. Not a strand of hair or a fold of clothing was out of place as he gazed leisurely upon the newspaper spread before him. His features were stolid as always, not betraying any straying thoughts or emotions he might contain. However, the page didn’t turn, not once in thirty minutes, not even crinkling like it might if he was browsing the articles. Which he wasn’t. His sharpened eyes were fixed upon a single point in the print.
Denmark sat across from him, but with his normally shining azure eyes churning in a clouded storm he did not loo