The Man Who Was His Own Case
The file was thin. Jack Moran had seen thinner files, but not many, and never for a case that had kept him awake for three nights straight. It sat on his desk beneath the empty bottle of rye — he had poured the rest out, but he kept the bottle as a reminder of what he was trying not to become — and it contained exactly three things: a photograph of Eleanor Callahan's mother that Eleanor had...
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