The Margin of Error
The first small compromise Jack made was on a Tuesday afternoon in March, six months before he found the brain. He was inspecting a diner on Sunset Boulevard. The diner was clean enough. The walk-in was organized. The fryer oil was within acceptable range. The violation was minor: the dishwasher's final rinse was reaching 78°C instead of the required 82°C. Four degrees. The margin of error on...
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