FLEMING
I GOT one of the friendlier mugs at the Nightcrawler to give me a lift home and to take the long way so I could hear the club gossip. He filled me in, carefully not inquiring about my own state of scruffiness. Things in the trenches were copacetic, considering. Some of the guys were edgy about the Alan Caine murder, but only because the cops had hauled a few in for questioning. Chicago's finest were looking for Mitchell, but they'd have to hold a s
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