Face slack and expressionless, eyes staring glazedly at nothing in particular, L didn't seem capable of standing on his own, leaning slightly against the old Gypsy's colorfully garbed flank. He answered in a dull tone, as if slipping further away from reality with every question he was asked.
"George Foyet... the Boston Reaper... will find Hotch and stab him nine times. He'll live... but..." L wrenched his arm away from the Gypsy, looking spooked.
"I don't like this. Don't make me say more." His face was pale, making the dark circles under his eyes stand out more starkly than usual. But Madame Romani seemed dissatisfied with the answer, and regained her grip on him.