Chapter 24I had worn out my welcome in the City of Angels. Or rather, the city had worn out my welcome for me. A month ago I had left my own city with the promise of a job, new adventures, and a relief from the ugliness of the winter months. The promise lay dashed like fresh roses under the jackboots of Nazi swine; the new adventures nearly cost me my life, and did cost the lives of others. And the weather? True, it brought none of the bitter cold and white stuff that every year made eastern winters convince me that spring would arrive at the same time as a smile and kind word from my ex-wife. The month I had spent here? Rain on some days; rain on the others. I thought people living in southern California tanned, only to learn that they probably rusted.
And what about the people I had met
