"What do you make of it, Detective?"I turned to the voice beside me, shrewish, slightly balding man with a pencil-thin mustache that went well with hi... sallow,rat-like face. He could have been 42 or 62 - men like him always seemed a caricature of middle-age - and he looked worn out from a life spent catering to the debauched pleasures of the rich and powerful. One wouldn't think that would be so hard on the body, but given a place like this the mileage no doubt accumulated pretty fast. Her's. " Thanks you Colonel."I danced with a few of the women I knew when I went to school with them. Elizabeth, and Jeri danced with some of the guys that were alone. As redneck are, one of them decided to get a little fresh, and the first thing anyone knew James Smith was sitting on his ass. Having gotten put there by Jeri. I went over to see what happened.Jeri told me, "This piece of shit tried to gab me, so I hit him..."James, looked up at the crowd and started to say something, them he saw me,. More

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