The Blood on Sunset Boulevard
The gun was on the desk between us, and Victor Sterling was dead behind it, and I was trying to decide whether to call the police or call Nora Davis. The problem with calling the police was the letter. The problem with calling Nora was that I had promised Nora I would never call her again. The letter was on top of Victor's typewriter, the keys still warm from the last keystroke. It was written...
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