The Catalyst of Thomas Callahan
The rain fell on Chicago like bullets on a July night in 1925. Thomas Callahan stood in the doorway of his speakeasy on South State Street and watched the water run down the sidewalk, mixing with the spilled gin and the discarded newspapers and the mud that the horses had left from last winter. Inside, the jazz was loud and the whiskey was cheap and nobody was looking at anybody else's face....
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