Who Killed Bob Teal? And Other Stories - Plot & Excerpts
Hammett’s “Shrewd, canny sleuth,” his “hard-boiled detective,” etc., that we’re at the end of our rope for words to introduce him to new readers. … Well, he is a shrewd, canny, hard-boiled sleuth, and this is an exciting tale. I It started in Boston, back in 1917. I ran into Lew Maher on the Tremont street sidewalk of the Touraine Hotel one afternoon, and we stopped to swap a few minutes’ gossip in the snow. I was telling him something or other when he cut in with: “Sneak a look at this kid coming up the street. The one with the dark cap.” Looking, I saw a gangling youth of eighteen or so; pasty and pimply face, sullen mouth, dull hazel eyes, thick, shapeless nose. He passed the city sleuth and me without attention, and I noticed his ears. They weren’t the battered ears of a pug, and they weren’t conspicuously deformed, but their rims curved in and out in a peculiar crinkled fashion. At the corner he went out of sight, turning down Boylston street toward Washington.
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