” Courtlaw refused brusquely, almost rudely. She took it up in her many-ringed hands and read it judicially. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree. “Are you in the Service?” She asked him. "He acts queerly, too. This morning I met him at the dock, and he wouldn't take the other fifty. Let me go, Sir. ‘None of them means anything to you at all? How odd. Why don’t I just go and get the key from Pottiswick?’ Alderley flicked a glance back at him over his shoulder.
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