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A hard-boiled detective arrives at a small mining town only to find his client murdered and the inhabitants embroiled in complex webs of corruption.

Page 139 of 263
Table of Contents

XIV

hills. I didn’t have nothing to do with it. I just went along when she blew open.”

“Whisper was pinched this evening,” I told him.

“Hell! Then that’s it. Noonan had ought to know he’d never keep that guy screwed up⁠—not in this burg.”

We were standing still in the alley where MacSwain had stopped running.

“You know what he was pinched for?” I asked.

“Uh-huh, for killing Tim.”

“You know who killed Tim?”

“Huh? Sure, he did.”

“You did.”

“Huh? What’s the matter? You simple?”

“There’s a gun in my left hand,” I warned him.

“But look here⁠—didn’t he tell the broad that Whisper done it? What’s the matter with you?”

“He didn’t say ‘Whisper.’ I’ve heard women call Thaler ‘Max,’ but I’ve never heard a man here call him anything but ‘Whisper.’ Tim didn’t say ‘Max.’ He said ‘MacS’⁠—the first part of ‘MacSwain’⁠—and died before he could finish it. Don’t forget about the gun.”

“What would I have killed him for? He was after Whisper’s⁠—”

“I haven’t got around to that yet,” I admitted, “but let’s see: You and your wife had busted up. Tim was a ladies’ man, wasn’t he? Maybe

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