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But here’s the kicker—she’s got this limp, right? X-ray shows an old break, healed crooked. Someone kicked her, I reckon. Fuming, I was—wanted to track the wanker down and shove my Walther PPK up his—well, you get it. “Truth is a cruel mistress,” Ida’d say, and damn, she’s right. Prossie’s a trooper, though—hops around, still flirts with me for treats. Surprised me, that grit. Exaggeratin’ a bit, maybe, but she’s my bloody hero.

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Jul 27,  · In fact, explained police Detective Tom Jensen, the woman Cheryl was on her way to see the day she vanished was a prostitute. That woman's pimp, Jensen said, was the .

Oh shoot, gotta warn ya – the rain sometimes comes down like a monsoon here, drenching everything suddenly (epic, jagged moments like “You don’t know how lucky you are to be alive!”). I remember one famous night I had a massage session outdoors in a tiny, backstreet courtyard near the station on Vine St. – rain tapping on the pavement, city lights blurred, and there I was, feeling every drop like a heartbeat. It was crazy, almost poetic... just like those moments in Leviathan that leave you wonderin’ about life, bloody raw and humbling.

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