Impossible

“—I don’t know where I was. There were no windows in the room. I sat there copying these Chinese letters when I heard the screams. Somebody was murdered—I didn’t see it, but I know. The cops would say I’m crazy. Do you?”
Ivy Frost lighted a long, pungent cigarette, and gazed hard at his caller. He cleared his throat finally, and said:
“‘I’ll take the case. Take off your shoes and let me see them.'”

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