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In the sugar bowl. Well, that might be an explanation. It was a two-story brick building with a flat front. Downstairs was the bar and card-gaming area and upstairs was the main hall, which was large enough to seat probably 500 persons if all the chairs were up, which they werent. Only fifty or sixty folding chairs had been set up in five or six rows in front of the speakers podium. The podium rested on a long table. Stone pressed another button on the desk phone. She stared at him for a long moment, something building in her expression that Devines drug-induced thoughts could not readily interpret. So why do it? The police had maneuvered the duo off to the side and even further down the wide lane. Three police officers dealt with them while the other three split up the crowd and waved it on to the building. Promise? Okay, the Candidate said, whos back of it? Been any since then? Mason asked. Ive already filed, she said. Ill get the clearance. Yes, Your Honor. I agree, it is, Campbell conceded. Chapter 18 The fellow looked like a well-worn slab of granite. His gray hair was bristly and cut short. His features were chiseled and fierce. The salt-and-pepper eyebrows swooped in all directions. The decades-old suit never had been expensive or of good quality when brand-new, but it was so unremarkable as to still be serviceable now. The red-and-blue-striped tie was too wide for the times, the collared button-down shirt a bit worn around the edges. He couldnt see the mans shoes from here, but if he had to guess, Devine would speculate they were black, and pedestrian, and shined to spit-polish perfection...