Strange Brew
“N. ElrodChicago, June 1937 Hanging around this alley gave me the creeps because it looked exactly like the one where I’d seen a man gunned down in front of me. That had been shortly before my own murder.The man in front of me tonight was my partner, Charles Escott, who was unaware of my thoughts while we waited for his client to show. I didn’t like the meeting place, but the client had insisted, and Escott had to earn a living. At least he’d invited me along to watch his back. Too often he igno...red risks and bulled ahead on his own, which was damned annoying when it wasn’t scaring the hell out of me.The air was muggy to the point of settling down in your lungs and forgetting to pay rent. I had no need to breathe regularly anymore, but still found the heaviness uncomfortable in this hot, windless place. A car cruised by, briefly visible in the alley opening. The faint wash of light from its headlamps allowed Escott to see my face.“Stop worrying, old man,” he said, speaking quietly, knowing I could hear.MoreLess
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