Dread Brass Shadows (Garrett, P.I. 5) by Glen Cook

By Glen Cook

Every person desires to locate it—a treasure so wealthy it makes even a hard-boiled detective like Garrett worried. It’s the mythical ebook of Shadows, made from brass and retaining secrets and techniques no mortal used to be ever intended to master—and Garrett needs to be certain not anyone ever has the opportunity to paintings its spells on an unsuspecting and unprotected global.

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He mistook her for somebody else. " I got up and walked around the desk. " She started to get up. I sat her down. "You made your mistake when you told somebody somewhere that you were thinking about coming here. That worried somebody. He tried to off my lady. Spill. " Actually, I was being gentle. I had the Dead Man across the hall. All I needed to do was keep her mind frothing so he could get at anything interesting in there. She tried to get up again. I sat her down with more force. She looked more irritated than scared.

Morning is the lousiest time of day. The lower the sun in the east, the lousier that time is. The racket in the street started about the time I got my feet on the floor. A woman screamed. She was frightened. Nothing galvanizes me so quickly. I was down at the door with a small arsenal before I started thinking. Somebody was pounding on that door now, yelling my name and begging to be let in. I peeped through the peephole. One ounce of brain was working. I saw a woman's face. Terrified. I fumbled at bolts, yanked the door open.

Dean turned. "People shouldn't ought to do like that, Mr. " "You're right. They shouldn't ought. You're a religious sort. " He nodded. He's a gentle sort generally, a hardworking old fellow trying to support an ungrateful gaggle of eligible but terminally homely nieces who give him more grief than any ten men deserve from their female kin. Generally. Right now he had him a bloodthirst bigger than a vampire who hadn't fed for a year. I couldn't relax. It was over, but my nerves just wouldn't settle.

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