Regardless of how uncomfortable was the couch, he had to admit that he had slept on it. Fitful snatches, but sleep nonetheless. His body still needed more after the long, tense night, but now that his mind was working again he knew he wouldn’t be able to drop olf anymore. He looked at the clock on the gray wall. Only nine o’clock? It couldn’t be, he’d only gotten here at about seven. . . .