His handiwork was noticed though; he made sure of that. He was sitting in a cafe, about a block away from the city park in the middle of this town. Fr...m his seat near the front he could see down the block to where the police cars were parked haphazardly around the park, lights flashing, several officers in the street waving everyone by while a group of others were standing in the middle of the park looking at something by the base of a tree. He knew they could see his handiwork and appreciate. And to work instead, sans supervision, under theassumption that he was competent enough to do the job he'd been hired todo, to be treated, in other words, like the professional he was."I am a man who enjoys being a man," his employer continued, "even inmy...somewhat...erm... diminished...capacity. Perhaps..." and he gazed outside,fondly, towards the pool, where three turquoise dolphins were playing,"all the more so for my diminution."J. Loft didn't speak; he wasn't paid to speak, so he was. More

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