The Puppet Master (V-03: Film Noir)
The rain in Los Angeles didn't wash anything away; it just turned the grime into a mirror. I sat in my office, the scent of stale tobacco and cheap bourbon clinging to the curtains like a bad memory. I was Dr. Elias Vance, a man who knew where all the bodies were buried because I was usually the one who had signed the death certificates. I didn't play by the rules of the Medical Board—rules...
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