“It was a bad time of day to be there—the matinees about to start, the soldiers on leave, the hawkers, three-card monte dealers, and pickpocket teams gearing up for action. And the traffic lights. “I’m sorry, boss,” Shrevnitz said. ‘There’s no way to beat all these new lights they’re putting up.” “Never mind,” Cranston said from the rear, “I’ll walk the rest of the way.” Shrevnitz angled the cab curbside, and Cranston climbed out. He put on his black homburg and set off at a brisk pa...ce, one leather-gloved hand in the pocket of his overcoat as he negotiated the pedestrian flow. A couple of blocks away, he began to slow down, waiting for the crowds to thin out. Then, just past Zamansky Jewelers, he cut left into an alleyway, its brick walls painted with advertisements for Personality Cigars and Zalo bread. On the right was Stern Brothers, Embalming, then a local chapter of the Young Men’s Total Assistance Society.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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