Gumshoe walked away from the wreck, across the road. He felt numb all over. His right hand reached into his pocket and pulled out a Lucky Strike. Bringing it to his lips, Gumshoe lit it and inhaled deeply

And then exhaled.

The smoke drifted up and dissipated. Gumshoe was not a religious man. But deep down, he hoped that the smoke would reach all the way up to heaven.

And he hoped Gentlemens was up there, somewhere, smoking a whole pack at once.