‘Have you ever killed a man with your bare hands?’
‘I beg your pardon?’ I said.
The publicist smiled. ‘Have you ever killed a man with your bare hands? You know, choked the life out him, crushed his windpipe, dug your fingers in till his larynx collapsed and the veins bulged out on his temple.’
I shook my head. ‘No, sorry.’
She smiled. ‘Garrotted anyone?’
I shook my head again.
‘Shot, perhaps,’ she suggested, ‘stabbed,…
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