Sublime

“What’s the line? ‘Down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean.’ ” “What’s that?” “Raymond Chandler. On how the private detective must be a man of honor. Of course, he had never been one. Dashiell Hammett was one, and he had different ideas.”

Silence held for several minutes, in the darkness of the coupé’s interior, and then the detective’s harsh voice put a sceptical question: “And who are these certain parties that want her out of the way?” “Be yourself!” Scuttle Zeipp admonished him. “I’m laying down on ’em, right enough, but I ain’t feeding ’em to you.” “What are you giving me all t