The Crown on State Street
The body had a single playing card on its chest. I recognized it immediately—the Crown, printed in gold ink on black stock. Frankie Morosetti's calling card. You don't forget a calling card like that. It's the kind of thing that sticks in your mind the way a bullet sticks in a ribcage. I knelt beside the body on State Street. Rain had just started, the kind of light Chicago rain that doesn't...
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