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. She had a bad habit of loitering in the hall, listening outside closed doors. Sure enough.
Bosk flung the door open, nearly knocking Mrs. Kasper down.
"Care to join us?" He leered.
Disgusted, she flounced back inside her apartment and slammed her door.
Bosk shut his door again, turned around to face his guest. The stranger was tall, well-built, handsome if you went for older guys with hair graying at the temples, which Bosk did not. The clothes were expensive but not ostentatious. Snaga Ohme would have approved the choice of colors: muted blues and grays. The face was a mask. The lines and wrinkles had been trained to betray nothing of the thoughts within. The eyes were one-way mirrors. Bosk looked in, saw himself reflected back.
Having once been close to some of the most powerful people in the galaxy, Bosk recognized and appreciated the quiet air of control and authority this man exuded, like a fine cologne that never overwhelms, never cloys the senses.
"I assume that you are the Adonian known as Bosk?" The stranger was polite.
"I'm an Adonian and my name's Bosk. That answer your questions?"
"Not all of them." The stranger continued to be polite. "Were you once in the employ of the late Snaga Ohme, former weapons dealer?"
Bosk swallowed. "I wasn't in his 'employ,' mister! I was his goddamn friend! His best friend. He trusted me, more'n anyone
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