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“Yeah,” answered his co by Commodore Tommy’s for a beer”

They laughed A toothless old woman turned on them “Would you mock the dead?”

“He deserves what he got Evil ”

An old rowled, “No Gopher ever killed another because he was evil, ya silly bastards They killed the Ice for his britches”

Isaac Bell shoved past and continued west

Both rong The Gophers had killed Weeks to break the chain of evidence that connected his boss to the h justice But it hadn’t been done for justice, only self-protection What link was left between Alasdair’s killing and the spy who ordered it?

He could feel the cold breath of the river now, and he heard ship horns and the piping of tugs With Weeks dead, he was no closer to the spy who plotted to kill the ined Hull 44

He quickened his pace, then stopped abruptly under a signboard above the first floor of a cru red brick tenement so old that it had no fire escapes Faded white letters on a gray field read “Commodore Tommy’s Saloon”

The building looked h the barred s He heard voices inside But when he tried the front door, it was locked Bell jerked the45 out of his coat, fired four shots in a circle around the knob, and kicked the door open

He went through it fast, slewed sideways into a diainst the wall A dozen Gophers scattered, upending tables and crouching behind them

“I’ll shoot the first un,” said Isaac Bell

They gaped, staring at hiain at the door Exchanging surprised glances, the Gopher gangsters registered that Bell was alone and rose ly to their feet

Bell switched the45 to his left hand and pulled his Browning with his right

“Everyone’s hands where I can see them Now!”

At the sight of the enraged detective standing against the ith two guns sweeping the barroom, most dropped weapons and displayed empty hands Bell aimed at tho didn’t “Now!” he repeated “Or I’ll clean out the place”