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Dusk, Sunday

He drops what has to be at least ten grand in front of me

“I hope that’s enough for you to at least listen,” he says

“It is” I take it and set it in rand I’ll listen to a drill bit shoved up someone’s ass Even if, at the end of our conversation I look this cat in the eye and tell hi his money

“I want you to work for ood at what you do” He runs the back of his hand across his upper lip Wipes aeat beads collected in his , under these circu

“I’m a private detective,” I say “Not an assassin”

“Coain?”

“If you want so froon “If you want so, I jab a thumb at the office door

“No, no, no I want someone found That’s all Found,” he says More sweat beads No eye contact Fidgeting

He wants someone murdered

Clarence T Petticoat Fifties, tan and lean Well dressed Pretty It is obvious by his appearance that his appearance iant in the city I know he handles residential stuff—? Couy, it makes sense