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“Poor Clarence”

“Why ‘poor’?” said Roy

“He’s in this, too Otherwise, as he outside the Brown Derby? Coincidence? Hell, no Soreat portraits Roy, we got to go back and save them”

“We,” said Roy, “got to go straight on ahead”

“I wonder,” I said, “what kind of note Clarence got? What did it say to him?”

“What did what say?” said Roy

Roy ran another red light at Sunset in order to catch up with the taxi, which was halfway to Santa Monica Boulevard

“They’re headed for the studio!” said Roy “No”

For the taxicab, when at Santa Monica, had turned left past the graveyard

Until we reached St Sebastian’s, just about the least-significant Catholic church in LA Suddenly, the taxi swung left down a side street just beyond the church

The taxicab stopped about a hundred yards down the side street Roy braked and curbed We saw the Beast take the woht He was gone only a moment A door opened and closed solided to the next corner, hts were out The taxi flashed by Roy cursed, banged the ignition, revved the car, , and ere back at Santa Monica Boulevard, in time to see the taxi pull up in front of St Sebastian’s and dislodge its passenger, who then fled up the walk into the lit entry of the church, not looking back The taxi drove away

Roy glided our car, lights out, into another dark place under a tree “Roy, what’re you—?”

“Silence!” hissed Roy “Hunch Hunch is everything That guy noin the burlesque chorus—”

Minutes passed The church lights did not go out

“Go see,” suggested Roy