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Summary: He’s like a prostitute, except he kills, not thrills.
And he’s nothing more than a weapon. Call him up whenever there’s a problem and he’ll take care of it. He’s like a prostitute, except he kills, not thrills. The black hat and matching gun tell stories to the damned.
William calls him all the time. Darling, I have a pest control problem, and Robert’s off.
William’s all sloppy codes and lips smiling over secrets. When he looks at Robert, eyes dark under the slant of his hat, Robert knows that not even the assassin is immortal, and William smiles like a knife.