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."
"Go back. These two strangers offered you a job. Tell me about it."
"Uh, they tell me just a few minutes of razzle-dazzle; nothing to it. They
want me to wear this jacket, make like a nosie. Bong the door here, ask for you.
'Message from the Manager,' that's what I have to say. Then the rest like we
did-you know. When I say, 'Hey? You ain't the Senator! Or are you?', they are
supposed to close in and arrest you."
Bill looked at me accusingly. "But you messed it up. You fouled it, not me.
You didn't do anything like you was supposed to. You clamped the door on me-and
you shouldn't uh. And you turned out to be the Senator after all... and you had
her with you." His voice was especially bitter when he referred to Gwen.
I could understand his resentment. How is a sincere criminal, trying hard,
going to get ahead in his profession if his victim fails to cooperate? Almost
all crime depends on the acquiescence of the victim. If the victim refuses his
assigned role, the criminal is placed at a disadvantage, one so severe that it
usually takes an understanding and compassionate judge to set things right. I
had broken the rules; I had fought back.
"You've certainly had a run of bad luck. Bill. Let's check this 'Message
from the Manager' you were supposed to deliver. Keep him covered. Mistress
Hardesty."
"Can I take my hands down?"
"No
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