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datatime: 2022-09-29 02:17:34 Author:VBOvKkFo

"Certainly not. He asked me to come out and have lunch. We talked and he was kind of depressed about his writing not going well. He decided to hit the bottle. Think I should have taken it-away from him?"

He came down the stairs rubbing the side of his jaw. Flashlights had been going off in the study for a long time. Men had gone in and out. I had just sat in the living room with a plain-clothes dick and waited.

"I'm not thinking yet. I'm just trying to get a picture. How much drinking did you do?"

"It's your tough luck you were here, Marlowe. What was the check for? The one he wrote and signed and tore up?"

"Aw, for Pete's sake. There isn't any Lennox case."

"She doesn't mean it literally."

"I searched his desk this afternoon. No gun. I'd told her where it was and to put it away. She says now she didn't believe in that -sort of thing."

I nodded. "And gambling also."

Ohls nodded. He took the chewed cigarette out of his mouth, dropped it into a tray, and put a fresh one in place of it.

I nodded. "And gambling also."

Ohls nodded. He took the chewed cigarette out of his mouth, dropped it into a tray, and put a fresh one in place of it.

Ohls sat down on the edge of a chair and dangled his hands. He was chewing on an unlit cigarette. He looked at me broodingly.

"I quit smoking," he said. "Got me coughing too much, But the goddam things still ride me. Can't -feel right without one in my mouth. You supposed to watch the guy when he's alone?"

Ohls nodded. He took the chewed cigarette out of his mouth, dropped it into a tray, and put a fresh one in place of it.

"Real considerate of them," I said. "How is Mrs. Wade?"

"You searched the desk. Why?" Ohls lifted his hands and put them on his knees. He was looking at me indifferently, as if he didn't care what I said.

He came down the stairs rubbing the side of his jaw. Flashlights had been going off in the study for a long time. Men had gone in and out. I had just sat in the living room with a plain-clothes dick and waited.

"Gunshot suicides always interest me," Ohls said loosely. "So easy to fake. The wife says you killed him. Why would she say that?"

"Nobody else was here. She says you knew where the gun was, knew he was getting drunk, knew he had fired off the gun the other night when she had to fight with him to get the gun away from him, You were there that night too. Don't seem to help much, do you?"

"I'm not thinking yet. I'm just trying to get a picture. How much drinking did you do?"

"I'm not thinking yet. I'm just trying to get a picture. How much drinking did you do?"

"She doesn't mean it literally."

"I'm not thinking yet. I'm just trying to get a picture. How much drinking did you do?"

"He was getting drunk. I thought it just as well to have the gun somewhere else. But he didn't try to kill himself the other night. It was just show-off."

"They all wanted me to come and live here and keep him in line. All means himself, his wife, and his publisher, a man named Howard Spencer. He's in New York, I guess. You can check with him. I turned it down. Afterwards she came to me and said her husband was off on a toot and she was worried and would I find him and bring him home. I did that. Next thing I knew I was carrying him in off his front lawn and putting him to bed. I didn't want any part of it, Bernie. It just kind of grew up around me."

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