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“Macho,” Hawk said, bending over to exalass The roach’s antennae waved at hi chocolate brownie, dude”

Pidge got up off the bed, strode to the desk, reached over Hawk’s shoulder, and re, squashing it on the Fors moved in a postterminal reflex

“Hey! Why’d you do that, man? Why’d you —”

“Ars longa, vita brevis Art is long, dude Life is short Write the dialogue for the freaking chapter, bug man, or I’m outta here”

Chapter 28

CONKLIN AND I had been working pawnshops all day, hoping one of Patricia Malone’s pieces of jewelry would turn up — and if it did, maybe we’d have a lead we could ith The last shop on our list was a hole between two bars on Mission, the Treasure Coop

I’m not sure the owner heard the bell r

ing over the door when Conklin and I came in, but he picked up our reflection fro on the walls and came out from the back of the store His name was Ernie Cooper He was a slablike man from the Vietnaray ponytail and an iPod in his shirt pocket, cords dangling froun under his jacket

While Conklin showed Cooper the insurance company’s photos of Patricia Malone’s Victorian jewelry, I looked around at the innuuitars, and out-of-date co out of its back perched on a plant stand A collection of fetal pigs was lined up on one of the four counters, which were filled edding bands, watches, old chains

Ernie Cooper whistled when he saw the photos

“What’s all this worth, a couple hundred thou?”

“So like that,” Conklin said

“Nobody brings this kind of stuff tofor, anyway?”

“Maybe hi down a photocopy of the Polaroid of Ronald Grayson

“I can keep this?” Cooper asked