I read this because almost every detective story teller cited this author as setting the bar so high for good writing. I enjoyed this story and appreciate now what everyone appreciates about this author's style.
"Between the second and third periods Coyle had difficulty following the conversation between Dillon and his wife's nephew..they had a drink in the tavern on the concourse of the Boston Garden, to let the traffic thin out..Dillon had trouble walking when they got outside. and Coyle had more trouble..Dillon sat behind the driver. He groped around and found a twenty-two magnum Armini revolver, fully loaded. he picked it up and put it in his lap. when the Ford was alone on the road, Dillon brought the revolver up and held it an inch behind Coyle's head, the muzzle pointing at the base of the skull behind the left ear. Dillon drew the hammer back. The first shot went in nicely. Dillon continued firing, double action. The revolver clicked on a spent round at last. Coyle lay thrust up against the frame between the doors of the Ford. The speedometer read eighty-five. 'slowdown, you stupid shit,' Dillon said. 'you want to get arrested or something?'"
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