There’s no change in the breathing—none at all—as I get close. I get a whiff of something unpleasant—biological, kind of like rotting meat, but not quite. And a whole bunch of different ideas all fall into place with an almost-audible click, and I don’t like the picture they make. Not one little fragging bit. Using the H & K’s flash-suppresser, I push a fold of curtain back from the figure’s head so I can see the face.