"I told you-"
"I know what you told me, but what am I supposed to think? What's anyone supposed to think?"
What indeed? Eli thought.
He had to put a stop to this. Immediately.
He turned to Adrian. "Go to the kitchen and get me one of the carving knives."
Adrian gave him a strange look but did as he was bid and returned with an eight-inch Wьsthof-Trident Culinar carver. It looked small in Adrian's huge hand. Eli took it from him, gripping it by the dull edge of the carbon steel blade, and proffered it to Strauss, stainless-steel handle first.
"Take it."
Strauss looked uncertain. "Why?"
"Just take it and I'll tell you."
The cop hesitated, then reached out and took the knife. "Okay. Now what?"
Eli unbuttoned his shirt and bared his chest. "Now, you stab me."
"Eli!" Adrian cried. "Have you gone crazy?" He turned to Strauss. "Don't listen to him! It's the painkillers! He's not-"
"Et tu, Adrian?" Eli said, feeling a pang of regret. Didn't anyone have faith anymore? "You don't believe me either?"