Philip walked on the trading floor. A particular busy day on the markets with the Dow plummeting a few hundred points had everyone running around like mice on steroids. His attempts to grab the attention of the traders were in vain. ‘Bob Knoff, you said? Wait, that sounds familiar. Can we talk after the closing bell?’ And then a 415 number came up on his cell. “Philip Crouse? This is Inspector Jacobs from SFPD. I think we may have a body that would be of interest to you…’
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