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“Who wants to know?” She brought a hand up and poked a sarette between her lips “You a cop?”

“No But I need to talk to him”

“Well, he ain’t here right now” Her cigarette bobbed as she spoke “Fact, I ain’t seen him for two, three days maybe”

“So who else was here to see him? And when?”

She lifted her hand and rubbed her fingers together “Fork it over,” she said

I gave her a twenty, wondering if it was enough It seeers and a cloud of s molar on the upper left

“A big, bulky guy in a fancy suit coht-blond, buzz cut hair He acted like a cop and I could tell he carried a piece” She patted the area just below her shoulder

“A gun?”

“Naw, a piece of cake Yeah, a gun Whatta ya think?”

I soldiered on with the questioning, despite the odd feeling that I was starring in the Philadelphia version of The Wire, as written by Daain?”

“About three days ago, I guess”

“That was the last tiht?”

“Right Cooper didn’t seeuy”

“Not happy how?”

She shrugged “I dunno Not terribly upset or nothin’ Just not happy”