Chiaro sighed. The man was smart, yes, but he obviously thought Chiaro was completely foolish. He went back to his desk and shifted the papers about. Two he had folded in half, one side appearing rather ragged and ripped. The book the angel had taken would have detailed the drunkard’s wound and how he would have been able to survive it. The angel would read the book, yes. But he would have a hard time finding the middle pages. He studied them quickly, absorbing every word.