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“No,” he said. “They’re not going to make me chief.”

“You sure about that?” I said.

“I’m sure,” he said.

“Whose decision is it?” I asked him.

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Finlay nodded.

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His reflection shrugged in the mirror. He was looking puzzled. He couldn’t see the connection. But he’d see it soon enough.

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So I told him how I knew. He thought about it. He agreed with me.

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I shook my head. Stopped outside the barbershop.

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