![]() There was no sound except the tireless movement of the thick black water. “Okay,” the young cop said and went back to the cruiser and the cruiser pulled away. “I’ll stay here till I’m sober,” Jesse said. “My partner will follow in the black and white.” “I can drive you home in your car,” the young cop said. “I can smell booze on you,” the young cop said. “What division you work out of?” the young cop said. I’m leaving town, just thought I’d stand here a while before I went.” Jesse felt like he could be his father, though in fact he was maybe ten years older. Jesse said he was, and the young cop asked him why he was standing there at four in the morning. ![]() The young cop asked Jesse if he was all right. patrolman walked over to him, holding his flashlight near the bulb end, the barrel of it resting on his shoulder, so he could use it as a club if he needed to. Then the spotlight swept along the verge of the cliffs and touched Jesse and went past him and came back and held. A spotlight shone on it and one of the cops from the cruiser got out and looked into it. ![]() ![]() Before him was the uninterrupted darkness above the repetitive murmur of the disdainful sea.Ī black-and-white cruiser pulled up and parked behind his car at the curb. There was the comfortless light of the streetlamps, but they were behind him. AT THE END OF THE CONTINENT, near the foot of Wilshire Boulevard, Jesse Stone stood and leaned on the railing in the darkness above the Santa Monica beach and stared at nothing, while below him the black ocean rolled away toward Japan. ![]()
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