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They were black, werent they? One of the telephones rang. By the time I drove back to my hotel the rain was little more than a drizzle but the sky was a roiling blackish-gray and the sound of thunder was steady and ominous. Filthy Frankie was to have been best man at the marriage of Murfin and Miss Bzowski and doubtless would have been had he not been found floating in the Monongahela River on the wedding day, the back of his head blown off by a shotgun blast. Uh-huh, I said. She was named after her Uncle Priams first wife. He was coming undone. I hadnt heard that in him until just now. Big bad Showalter was starting to feel the pressure. He was beginning to realize that badge and gun could protect you only so far. You own the place? Explain in fuller detail. Guilt, or thinking it might help him somehow. People under stress do strange things. I was sitting with my back to the entrance of the bar and couldnt see Freddie Koontz when he came in. But Murfin spotted him and waved to let him know where we were. I started walking back to my car and, as I did so, I saw somebody just clear the sizable boulder and start running away in the direction of the road. Yeah, she was very nice. She couldnt restrain herself. A few sobs, then more tears. And then what? She shrugged. Wow. Thats kind of abrupt. Mix didnt care for you, did he? I dont know, it might..