"I'm not a killer, Arthur," he says, in an almost candid tone, as though leveling with him man-to-man. "I didn't serve abroad to protect American lives just to come back here and take them. But you're not being very easy to live with right now, and neither is your friend. You have to know you can't just go into other people's houses and root around in their private belongings. This is America. A man's entitled to have in his house whatever he wants to have."

"He's right," Dick says. He'd glanced away from the mouse as it was injected; his eyes still stay on their faces, not the small body on the table, when he speaks—but there's no lack of authority in his tone, his stare. "This man did nothing to break the law. He has all the required permits to have a gun and he's a doctor, of course there are medications in his house. You, on the other hand, committed a B&E in broad daylight with multiple witnesses."