“I put the limb down against the porch steps and went up, and he was sitting inside with his feet propped on a stool, reading a fish-and-game magazine. He looked up when I knocked, gestured for me to come in. “How goes it, buddy?” he asked. “Pretty damned lousy,” I said. His forehead wrinkled and he sat up. “Something happen?” “Yeah, but I don't know what it means.” I sat down on the second of the Naugahyde chairs. “When was the last time you saw Walt Bascomb?” “Bascomb? Hell, I don't know. Why?...” “You see him today at any time?” “If I did, I don't remember it.” “Well, he's not in his cabin now and the way it looks, he hasn't been there since yesterday. But his car hasn't been moved.” “Maybe he went somewhere with somebody…” “Sure, maybe. But why hasn't he been back in better than a day? Why are all his belongings still at his cabin? Same questions if he went off by himself on foot.” Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Listen, how come all this sudden interest in Bascomb?MoreLessRead More Read Less
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