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all the strong places

Le 4 janvier 2017, 05:31 dans Humeurs 0

on himself was chafing in impotent fury at his lack of means, his failure, and the undignified figure he cut before the world. By the aid of his mother, a number of Frenchmen flocked over the frontier during the winter of 1582-3, and at length Marshal de Biron himself joined the Prince, and the plot that had long been hatching was attempted. This was nothing less than by a coup-de-main to326 seize and garrison  in Flanders with Frenchmen. If this succeeded, Alen?on might demand his own terms, either from Philip or Elizabeth, and the combined attempt was made on the 16th of January, 1583. Alen?on himself took charge of the affair at Antwerp, wherein one thousand additional Frenchmen had secretly entered. This being noticed by the burghers aroused suspicion, and certain despatches from Alen?on to Marchaumont in England having been intercepted and read by Orange, the latter gave timely warning to the Antwerpers. A large body of Frenchmen arrived suddenly before the town, and an excuse was made that Alen?on was to review them outside the Burgerhout gate. As he sallied from the gate of the town with his Swiss and French Guard of four hundred men, he was joined by three hundred French horsemen, and turning towards the gate he cried to his countrymen, “Courage, comrades, Antwerp is yours!”

This was the signal, and the Flemings at the gate were massacred. The slight resistance overcome, the main force of the French, with banners flying, entered the town with cries of “The Duke and the mass.” The burghers, unaware at first what the tumult meant, were taken by surprise, and sought refuge in their houses. But soon pillage and murder began to remind them of the “Spanish fury” of six years before. Alen?on and Biron, however, were very different men from Sancho de Avila and Julian Romero; and the stout Antwerpers turned upon their false friends, blocked the streets, mustered their companies, and fought like the heroes they were in defence of their homes. Fire-eating327 Fervaques was taken prisoner, as were du Fargis, le Rieux, and Bodin. Biron’s son, the nephew of Cardinal Rambouillet, the Duke of St. Aignan, and his son, and two hundred and fifty other gentlemen were killed; the French loss altogether reaching two thousand men, one-half of their entire force, whilst the burghers lost only about one hundred. Alen?on, from afar, outside the town, watched with sinking heart the failure of his treachery, and when he saw that all was lost, fled with difficulty, by the swollen rivers hotly pursued until he arrived at Vilvorde, where the French had succeeded in gaining the upper hand, as they also had at Ostend, Dixmunde, Alost, and Dunkirk, whilst they had failed at Antwerp, Ghent and Bruges.

The news came to England confusedly and in fragments at first, and the Queen was inclined to bring her suitor over to England for safety; but when full accounts came from the Prince of Orange, and the treason was thoroughly understood, all England growled at the falseness of Frenchmen in general and Alen?on in particular. Orange sought to fasten some of the responsibility upon Elizabeth, because, in answer to all remonstrances as to his action and the increased number of Frenchmen with him, Alen?on had invariably said that he was there as the Queen of England’s lieutenant, and was acting with her full connivance.

organized crime is the price

Le 15 décembre 2016, 05:21 dans Humeurs 0

There's only one way a jock can win a race, but there's twenty ways he can lose one, with a steward at every eighth pole watching, and not able to do a damn thing about it if the jock knows his stuff. That's legal gambling, pal, clean honest business, state approved. So it's right, is it? Not by my book, it ain't. Because it's gambling and it breeds gamblers and when you add it up there's one kind of gambling— the wrong kind." "

Feel better?" I asked him, putting some white iodine on my wounds. "I'm an old tired beat-up cop. All I feel is sore." I turned around and stared at him. "You're a damp good cop, Bernie, but just the same you're all wet. In one way cops are all the same. They all blame the wrong things. If a guy loses his pay check at a crap table, stop gambling. If he gets drunk, stop liquor. If he kills somebody in a car crash, stop making automobiles. If he gets pinched with hong kong offshore companya girl in a hotel room, stop sexual intercourse. If he falls downstairs, stop building houses." "Aw shut up!" "Sure, shut me up. I'm just a private citizen. Get off it, Bernie. We don't have mobs and crime syndicates and goon squads because we have crooked politicians and their stooges in the City Hall and the legislatures. Crime isn't a disease, it's a symptom. Cops are like a doctor that gives you aspirin for a brain tumor, except that the cop would rather cure it with a blackjack. We're a big rough rich wild people and crime is the price we pay for it, and we pay for organization. We'll have it with us a long time. Organized crime is just the dirty side of the sharp dollar." "What's the clean side?" "I never saw it. Maybe Harlan Potter could tell you. Let's have a drink." "You looked pretty good walking in that door," Ohls said. "You looked better when Mendy pulled the knife on you." "Shake," he said, and put his hand out. We had the drink and he left by the back door, which he had jimmied to get in, having dropped by the night before for scouting purposes. Back doors are a soft touch if they open out and are old enough for the wood to have dried and shrunk. You knock the pins out of the hinges and the rest is easy. Ohls showed me a dent in the frame when he left to go back over the hill to where he had left his car on the next street. He could have opened. the front door almost as easily but that would have broken the lock. It would have showed up too much. I watched him climb through the trees with the beam of a torch in front of him and disappear over the rise. I locked the door and mixed another mild drink and went back to the living room and sat down. I looked at my watch.

It was still early. It only seemed a long time since I had digital marketingcome home. I went to the phone and dialed the operator and gave her the Lorings' phone number. The butler asked who was calling, then went to see if Mrs. Loring was in. She was. "I was the goat all right," I said, "but they caught the tiger alive. I'm bruised up a little." "You must tell me about it sometime." She sounded about as far away as if she had got to Paris already. "I could tell you over a drink—if you had time." "Tonight? Oh, I'm packing my things to move out. I'm afraid that would be impossible." "

Yes, I can see that. Well, I just thought you might like to know. It was kind of you to warn me. It had nothing at all to do with your old man." "Are you sure?" "Positive." "Oh. Just a minute." She was gone for a time, then shecame back and sounded warmer. "Perhaps I could fit a drink in. Where?" "Anywhere you say. I haven't a car tonight, but I can get a cab." "Nonsense, I'll pick you up, but it will be an hour or longer. What is the address there?" I told her and she hung up and I put the porch light on and then stood in the open door inhaling the night. It had got much cooler. I went back in and tried to phone Lonnie Morgan but couldn't reach him. Then just for the hell of it I put a call in to the Terrapin Club at Las Vegas, Mr. Randy Starr. He probably wouldn't take it. But he did. He had a reenex facialquiet,

pawed something on his desk

Le 30 novembre 2016, 05:06 dans Humeurs 0

Right now I was his raw meat. He sat behind his desk sightseeing bus tourwith his coat off and his sleeves rolled almost to his shoulders. He was as bald as a brick and getting heavy around the waist like all hard-muscled men in middle age. His eyes were fish gray. His big nose was a network of burst capillaries. He was drinking coffee and not quietly. His blunt strong hands had hairs thick on their backs. Grizzled tufts stuck out of his ears. He  and looked at Green. Green said: "All we got on him is he Won't tell us nothing, skipper. The phone number makes us look him up. He's out riding and don't say where. He knows Lennox pretty well and don't say when he saw him last." "Thinks he's tough," Gregorius said indifferently. "We could change that." He said it as if he didn't care one way or another. He probably didn't. Nobody was tough to him. "Point is the D.A. smells a lot of headlines on this one. Can't blame him, seeing who the girl's old man is. I guess we better pick this fellow's nose for him." He looked at me as if I , or an empty chair. Just something in his line of vision, without interest for him. Dayton said respectfully: "It's pretty obvious that his whole attitude was designed to create a situation where he could refuse to talk. He quoted law at us and needles me into socking him. I was out of line there, Captain." Gregorius eyed him bleakly. "You must needle easy if this punk can do it. Who took the cuffs off?" Green said he did. "Put them back on," Gregorius said. "Tight. Give him something to brace him up." Green put the cuffs back on or started to. "Behind the back," Gregorius barked. Green cuffed my mba program hands behind my back. I was sitting in a hard chair. "Tighter," Gregorius said. "Make them bite." Green made them tighter.

My hands started to feel numb. Gregorius looked at me finally. "You can talk now. Make it snappy." I didn't answer him. He leaned back and grinned. His hand went out slowly for his coffee cup and went around it. He leaned forward a little. The cup jerked but I beat it by going sideways out of the chair. I landed hard on my shoulder, rolled over and got up slowly. My hands were quite numb now. They didn't feel anything. The arms above the cuffs were beginning to ache. Green helped me back into the chair. The wet smear of the coffee was over the back and some of the seat, but most of it was on the floor. "He don't like coffee," Gregorius said. "He's a swifty. He moves fast. Good reflexes." Nobody said anything. Gregorius looked me over with fish eyes. "In here, mister, a dick license don't mean any more than a calling card.

Now let's have your statement, verbal at first. We'll take it kanger evod pro down later. Make it complete. Let's have, say, a full account of your movements since ten P.M. last night. I mean full. This office is investigating a murder and the prime suspect is missing. You connect with him. Guy catches his wife cheating and beats her head to raw flesh and bone and bloodsoaked hair. Our old friend the bronze statuette. Not original but it works.

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