Sunday, June 30, 2013

Monday, January 6th


Monday,
January 6th

    Jack Morgan had the night off. He should have been happy to have it, stay home, stay warm. He couldn’t. When the guys hauling snow the night before returned from their coffee break, they took joy in belittling him about his deer. “You sure you aren’t sucking in our fumes and hallucinating?”
     Jack decided he’d prove them wrong. He spent the night driving from one end of town to the other, looking for his deer. He drove along the Canal and he pulled up to the entrance to the forest preserve. Snow had closed it in. He was tempted to use the old road behind the cannery, except that hadn’t been plowed either. As surely as he’d pull back there is as surely as he’d get stuck in a snow drift. He pulled up at the side of the road and sat there for a while. He couldn’t stay though. Wahlberg was a two lane highway, and snow piled on either side of the street made it tighter than usual.

***

     Bonnie and Florence showed up Monday morning intending to clean up their mess. The front window was boarded up, and there was glass eve­rywhere. The mirror had shattered into thousands of pieces, and had fallen into clean dishes, into the open retarder where food was stored, and it crunched beneath their feet. The light fixture sat on the floor. The antique globe was shattered and the brass fittings were bent.
     The clock wall was devastated. Bonnie was disappointed. Florence looked to be as well. A lot of very nice people had contributed to it. “I wonder how many we can tape together,” Florence said. It was the first time either of them spoke.
     “A few. There are stores though. Walgreens sells wall clocks. I’m sure....”
Florence nodded, but didn’t respond. She bent to pick up the cat clock. The tail broke off in her hand.
     When the floor was swept clean and the retarder emptied, the pair sat down to their first cup of coffee together in years. “We need help,” Florence commented. “I will kill you if I have to work with you much longer.”
     “Only,” Bonnie commented, “If I don’t kill you first. What if Willow comes back?”
      “Fine. Until then?”
     Bonnie nodded and rested her chin on her upraised arm. “We need help.” Before the day ended, she dug out a help wanted sign. She put it in the window, and did so with a sorry heart. Willow wasn’t easy to work with. She was stubborn, and not very bright. But she was there every day. She could be counted on. And she bright­ened the place up with her songs. Bonnie sincerely hoped Willow would return soon.

***

      Felix Boca came in early on Monday to meet with Tim Ryan. They had a lot to cover. First off, Boca wanted to talk to the owners of the hardware stores in town, or whoever it was who did their ordering. They wanted to talk to this Oscar as soon as they could.
    “He makes it into town twice a week,” Scott Jefferson of Jefferson Hardware said. “Tuesday and Friday. Got his number you want to talk to him.”
    “Thank you. We appreciate it,” Boca said.
   “You know this is a good guy. Real decent type. Doubt very much you’d find he’d do something illegal or inappropriate.”
    “Didn’t say he did.”
    “We’ll keep that in mind,” Ryan, a green eyed, red head said.
    Ryan took the number and the pair retreated to the station just long enough to contact Oscar Flores of P&P Plumbing Supplies. “Is tomorrow early enough?” Flores asked. “I’m planning to be in Portland then.”
     “You did see the plea on the news, right?” Boca asked.
     “No. Got stranded down in Ottawa. Just got back last night.”
    Tomorrow is fine. Can we get you at this number if we need you in between?”
    “Sure. My cell phone.”

    The pair wanted to talk to both Stubs and Borenstein. Short of that, they’d speak with neighbors. Borenstein wasn’t home again. “He took off this morning for Su­san Marie’s,” the same woman said when they knocked on her door.
     “Detroit? Right?” Boca asked again.
    “I guess. He says it’s on the Canadian border. Detroit? That’s where the border is, right?”
    Boca made a note and thanked the woman for her time. When she closed her door, he turned to Ryan. “Small border.”

   Stubs wasn’t home either. “You want him,” one woman said, “You can usually find him working in his garage at night.”
   “With all this snow,” Ryan grunted, “Doubt he’d get back there.”
   “He’d figure out a way. Real piece of work, if you ask me. Like he’s more at home there than he is in the house. Pity about his girlfriend disappearing. She was a nice girl. Never understood what she saw in him.”
   “I’ve known him all his life,” an old man said. “Knew his parents real well. Good people. Hard working people.” The man shook his head. “Pity. He’s an only child and they spoiled the hell out of him. Drunk, obnoxious, embarrassing. They were always rescuing him after he pulled something stupid. Saw that thing on the news. If his girlfriend is missing, I wouldn’t put it past him to be the cause. She was too good for him.”
    “You know what?” Another neighbor strained to be heard over the sound of the trash hauler that just pulled up next door. “I avoid him. If he isn’t drunk, he’s picking fights with her. I hear more yelling and screaming coming out of that house than I do at a wrestling match. Damned loud. Yesterday he went berserk over animals and crap. Just him. He did all the screaming. Then he pitched an aw­ful lot of crap. Check the trash.” The man nodded at the cans on the street. Two garbage men latched onto loaded trash cans and were busy emptying them into the truck. The back came down as they worked, smashing the contents of the can and pulling it forward into the truck.
    One of the men picked up a couple of pinkish looking bags that sat on a snow pile next to the can he had just emptied. Felix reacted quickly. “Hey!” he shouted at the garbage men. “Ho! Hey!” He took off up a shoveled walkway, slipping and sliding, crawling into snow drifts and attempting to walk or run on the top of the drifts. As he waved his arms, his feet sank again, allowing the snow to fill his boots one more time. “Hey, hold up.” The sec­ond man retreated to the curb to replace the can he held. He reached out for one of those bags. The men stopped. “We need those!” The men looked confused. As Boca struggled, he pulled his jacket open, revealing his badge. “We need those bags!” The men set the bags down and backed off.

   Callaghan wasn’t happy when the pair returned to the station carrying garbage bags. “I don’t need that shit all over here. I got my own coffee grounds.”
      “Got it out of Stubs garbage,” Ryan explained.
      “What is it?”
      “Garbage.”
   Callaghan folded his arms over his breast and stared. That had Boca thinking about lemons again. “Hey, Sarg,” he soothed, holding in a chuckle, “No idea what’s in there. You want to take a chance we’re throwing out evidence?”
   “Just clean up your mess,” he growled at Ryan.
  The pair took over a vacant interrogation cell and opened the first bag. They found pillows and tablecloths, dish towels and hot pads, broken ceramics and clothing. Tim matched up three pairs of boots and six pairs of shoes. When the Chief and Callaghan popped in to see their progress, they were sorting through a collection of underwear.
   “From what I’ve seen,” Ryan began, “It’s all clean. Freshly folded, just out of the dryer. Now tell me why he’s throwing out his girlfriend’s clothing.” He sniffed. And shrugged. “Smells like dryer sheets.”
   “Now the bastard is sniffing panties,” Callaghan cracked.
   Boca scrunched up one of the plastic bags. “You think we have enough for a warrant?”
   “Doubt it. Still, let me make a couple of phone calls,” Callaghan commented as he rubbed his chin. “Inventory it in and tag it as evidence.”
    Ramos nodded. “That was good thinking.”

***

    “Hi.” Mikey stood in the doorway of Sophie’s classroom. He wore his coat, but dragged his backpack on the floor.
     “Hi,” she responded. “What are you doing here?”
     “Nothing. I was just wondering if I could wait here for a while. Grandma’s still at work and I forgot my keys.”
      “You have homework to do?”
    “Sure,” he said slipping into a desk. “I have math homework. We’re working on fractions. Kind of confusing.”
    “Maybe I can help. Although I will say I’m better with maps and timelines than I am with fractions.” Mikey could keep her company until it was time to pick up his siblings from daycare.

***

     Red returned to his job on Monday morning. Monday evening he stopped at the liquor store and bought a fresh case of beer. It was the first time he had to pay for it in years. He stopped on his way home for a bag of McDonald Hamburgers. He ate his meal with a can of cold beer, and then he shoveled the front walk. When that was done, he had another beer. Then he salted the path he and Milk had cre­ated in the back yard when they cemented the floor. He checked the floor. Another day or two, it would be dry, and he could return everything to the garage. Ha! He had her this time. He took the shovel with him and returned to the house. He’d sleep well tonight.

***

    Jack Morgan arrived on duty expecting the same harassment as the last time he worked. One of the guys did make a crack about a deer and a whole bunch of little deeries asking for him. When he didn’t come, they went home disappointed. “Packed up their hot pink printer paper and just went away.”
    “Bite me, jackass.”
    The man chuckled and placed the same unlit cigar in his mouth that he had been chewing on throughout the entire project.
    An hour later the operation stopped. A scruffy coyote dragged itself down the middle of Miami. It came across the cluster of trucks and backed away. It sat down, its tongue hanging out, and watched the men.
    “I thought they hibernated during winter,” cigar head murmured.


Tuesday,
January 7th

    “I said no more dreams,” Red shouted at her.
     She smiled, and nodded. Then she turned about and limped away. Her animal friends sat in front of him, just watching her leave.
    “You, too. Out!” he ordered.
   The coyote wagged his tail, the others shook theirs outward. Then with heads down and chattering among themselves, they followed Willie. She even opened the outer door for them.
    “About friggin’ time,” Red cracked.

***

    “I called a few people,” Callaghan commented. “There isn’t a judge in Cook County willing to issue a warrant on what we have. She’s missing. That’s it. Nothing pointing to her being anything else. Now if those things you brought in were bloody and we could match her blood type...”
     “So what do we do with her things?” Ryan asked.
   “Gee, Tim. You look good in pink,” Callaghan cracked. “Of course if you don’t want to try anything on, we could leave it in the evidence locker in case something we can use does materialize.”

    Oscar Flores arrived at the Police Station at nine o’clock in the morning. As the description was originally given, Flores stood a good three or four inches short of Ryan. He was in his mid to late thirties, and really undistinguished looking with the exception of what might have been the shadow of teenage acne. His dress, though, was precise. If he wore an overcoat at all, he had left it in his vehicle. His gray slacks were perfectly creased and matched his suit jacket. He wore a silky, peacock blue T-shirt underneath. His black boots showed little salt residue and had been shined until glowing since the last time he wore them. His coif was all the rage and his cologne was strong and sweet. He spoke with a slight accent, which made Tim think that maybe Flores was fluent in Spanish. Although immigration into the area of late was expansive  most of the Hispanics Ryan knew personally, were third or fourth generation, and didn’t speak Spanish at all.
    Ryan took him into Callaghan’s office and closed the door. Flores sat in a chair and Ryan sat at the edge of Callaghan’s desk. Before he did anything, he took a good look at this guy’s tan colored eyes. “You wear colored contacts?” he asked. 
      The guy shrugged. “Sure. Got blue, green, violet even. The ladies like blue.”
“Hump.” Tim took a moment to make a note to himself. “Wear them often?”
“Sure. Like I said. The ladies like the blue.” Flores made his chair squeak when he shifted his weight.
      Next he showed Flores Willow Pratt’s picture. “You know her?”
      “Yeah.” The man’s eyes widened. “Why?”
      “How do you know her?”
      “That coffee shop on Miami. She works there.”
      “I’ve been told that a blue eyed Hispanic has asked her out. Is that you?”
      “Sure. Look at her. She’s cute.”
      “When was the last time you saw her?”
      “Ah, last week sometime. Probably Friday. When I stopped for coffee.”
      “What did you do New Year’s Eve?”
      “Went to a party.”
      “Where?”
      “Waukegan.”
      “You have witnesses that can place you there?”
   “Sure. It was one of those banquet halls that sell tickets for dinner and music. Went with some friends.”
   Ryan handed him a pad and pen. “You mind giving me names? Someone I can call to verify this?”
   “Yeah, I do. Why were you looking for me anyway?”
   “Willow Pratt. Last seen on New Year’s Eve right here in Portland. Someone said they saw you or someone that looks like you with her last.”
   "I was in Waukegan all day. That’s not exactly a run to the corner and back.”
    “No, you’re right. You can substantiate that, we can write you off our list.” Flo­res picked up the pad and pen, and balanced the pad on his knee. When finished writing, he handed Ryan both pen and paper. “So, you ever been in Pinkies’?” Tim asked.
     The man thought for a moment, then shook his head. “What’s Pinkies’?”

   When Felix made it in, Tim showed him his notes. “It checks out,” he explained. “This Flores character was in Waukegan all day.”
      Felix tucked his hand in the waist band of his jeans. “X him off our list.”
“No warrant either.”
     Felix shook his head. “Didn’t expect it. Haven’t got much more to do here until we have a body or something.”
       "You want to give up on Stubs?”
      Boca shook his head at that. “Nope. Him and Borenstein. Talk to both of them.”


Friday,
January 10th

      Karolyn Mathers picked up a copy of the Suburban Daily News when she passed through Worth the day before. The Portland Police Department wanted volunteers to help pass out handbills. Just what she had been waiting for. She made note of the address and set her alarm. At eight thirty the next morning, she took off from her apartment on Chicago’s North Shore, and drove the Dan Ryan onto I-57. She got off at 127th Street, and took that straight west to Miami. She arrived just as others did.

*

       A local print shop donated ten thousand white, pink, blue, green and yellow handbills with Willow Pratt’s picture on it. It asked that anyone seeing her to call the Portland Police. About fifty people, mostly housewives, retirees, off duty po­lice and firefighters, met at Twin Sisters for a cup of free coffee and an earful of instructions.
      The day was bright and crisp, and most of these people were bundled up in layers upon layers of clothing. As they waited, they shed the outer layers. The local TV stations sent out reporters with cameras and other equipment. This created a huge traffic jam between tables.
      Pat Callaghan handed one stack of flyers to Ruth Ellen de Boer and one stack to Felix Boca. “Can I trust you two to pass these out without hitting on each other?” The pair turned away from him quickly.
     A reporter pulled Ruth Ellen over and asked her about why she was out there, and what she hoped to do. Felix saw that and rushed over. She tried to push him aside as she spoke. Since her promotion to sergeant, he had been seething and she couldn’t wait to rub it in.

*

     The Channel 7 reporter recognized Karolyn Mathers. “Are you offering your help?” Anna Lisa Heffernan asked.
   Karolyn took a green flyer from the large woman police sergeant, and rubbed it with both hands. She closed her eyes, and dramatically drew in. “I have a feeling,” she said. She opened her eyes. “I just wanted to be sure.”
   “What kind of feeling? Do you think you can find Willow Pratt?”
   One more time, Karolyn closed her eyes and drew in. “Maybe I can.”

*

  The player piano banged out ‘Hearts and Roses,’ over and over, and was really getting on Callaghan’s nerves. “Can one of you ladies turn this off?” he asked the Rennault sisters. The pair looked at each other in surprise, like they hadn’t heard the racket before, and then back at him. One finally did come forward.
   “I didn’t turn that on,” one whispered to the other when she finished up.
   “I neither.”
   “It did not turn itself on.”
   “I never said it did.”
   “That’s what you said about it last night.”
   “You turned it on last night.”
  “Ladies,” Callaghan called from the stage, “We need to get this in gear.” He held up a yellow flyer to the group that had gathered. “Okay, Detective Boca and Sergeant de Boer are passing about flyers. Take a handful. We’ll assign you a lo­cation. Some of you will pass these out to pedestrians. Some of you will tack them up on bulletin boards. I want people in the parking lots tucking these under wind­shield wipers. There’s three Metra stations in town, at least six Metra parking lots. And don’t forget the hospital parking lots and the parking lots behind Miami. I want people walking up Miami and Fort Dearborn Trail tucking these under wind­shield wipers of cars on the street. Any left over, we’ll stand in the middle of in­tersections of 119th, 123rd, 127th, 135th, and so on. If you people can come back tomorrow, please do. We’ll be concentrating on shoppers then, and finishing up what we started today. Okay, the firefighters will give you assignments. Good luck.”
  Callaghan stepped away from the stage. A pair of firefighters had provided cop­ies of maps. He no sooner pulled out a chair at their table than someone turned on the player piano again. It was loud and irritating. When he turned back to the sis­ters behind the counter, he found them arguing again. He shook his head. The re­porter finished the woman she talked to after Boca and Ruth Ellen, and had charged the table where he and the firefighters sat. “Do any of you gentlemen know Willow Pratt?” The reporter asked.
   Callaghan shook his head. The others with him were more willing to impart their experience or even discuss their call to civic action. Over in a corner he located his off duty officers. Volunteers were assaulting them, demanding flyers. Ruth Ellen pointed at Felix, tapping his chest. Felix brushed her finger away. The pair bore in on each other, mouthing and exaggerating their words. Callaghan made himself get up. “Hey, Boca, de Boer, get a room,” he barked, their way. ‘God help this train wreck,’ he thought. If this resulted in someone actually seeing this girl, he’d be surprised.

*

   Someone must have been laughing their asses off thinking of Ruth Ellen and Boca in the same parking lot, passing out flyers. If she went one way with her flyers, he went right behind her, adjusting each she put out, and returning the wiper blade to a better position. It was pure spite. That was it. Just spite. And just for spite, she dropped her flyers. She grabbed a huge handful of snow instead of picking up the flyers, and formed it into a snowball. “Hey, Boca,” she called. “What the hell are you doing?”
   He had one hand on a flyer and another on a wiper blade. When he turned to her, he opened his mouth to retort. She wound up, and let her snowball loose. It hit him point blank in the mouth.

*

   Callaghan crossed Miami in front of Twin Sisters’ on his return journey to the Police Department. He was fairly proud of the work he had just completed. Only when he came upon a mesh trash can in front of the Portland Antique Emporium, he found a huge stack of green flyers in the bottom of the can. That really pissed him off. If that person didn’t want to be bothered, why did he show up? Was someone really that crass? He grabbed the stack from the bottom of the can. He’d save them for the next day.

*

   Bill and Art Weber drove about in Bill’s unmarked squad. Art wanted to see the volunteers in action. On Miami, a woman knocked on their window. Art rolled his down. “Chief,” she said, nodding at Bill. “Mayor Weber.” She passed Art two green flyers, waved and ran off to pass another flyer to the driver behind them. Art nodded appreciably. “Who do you say organized this?” he asked.
    “Callaghan.”
    “And you passed him up for promotion for what reason?”
   Bill grunted and turned onto 135th Street. “The same reason you passed him up for me.”
   “I passed him up because I had you,” Art retorted. “You are a natural. I promoted you because I knew if I left you’d fill my place.”
     “I’m not planning to run for mayor anytime soon.”
     “Tell me you don’t think that Callaghan couldn’t do your job.”
     “Probably better than I can. You put him in the office across from me now, and I promise you I’ll shoot him in the balls before the day is out.”
     Art shrugged and crossed his arms. “All right. I don’t like him any better than you do. Tell me that Unsinger has the leadership ability that Callaghan has.”
      "Bob Unsinger is good as long as someone is there telling him what to do. He doesn’t have Callaghan’s organizational ability.”
       Art nodded at a volunteer and held up his flyer. Bill pulled up a little further, and made a right into the Metra parking lot just east of Klieg Drive. Most of the cars had been tagged with blue flyers. Green flyers littered the ground, and separated in the wind. A snowball caught Bill’s attention when it crossed the hood of his car. Another went splat all over his windshield. Looking about, he found his reason. A blonde behemoth of a woman hid behind a car on the side of the lot that ended where the Fort Dearborn Trail bridge hit the embankment. A tall Hispanic male darted in front of Bill’s squad. He dove past the woman. She jumped out at him and tackled him. As Bill and Art watched, the pair rolled about in the snow, attempting to rub snow in each other’s face. 
       “Now that’s a problem,” Bill cried in disgust. “I can’t put those two on the same detail that I’m not pulling them apart.” Bill moved up as close to the hill as he could, and laid on the horn.

                                          *

      Red stopped at the Twenty Four - Seven out on Wahlberg for cigarettes. As he passed a bulletin board, a woman he didn’t know tacked up a notice on pink paper with Willie’s picture on it. She spun about, obviously proud of herself for doing her civic duty, smiled at him, passed him another notice, and then left. Red glanced at the picture. He watched through the glass doors as the woman jumped in her mini-van and drove off. Then he tore down the first notice and wadded them both up.

*

    Evelyn and Harry Pratt watched the dinner hour news. Anna Lisa whatever the hell her name was, was supposed to be in town, talking to volunteers. She talked to that big police sergeant, and to a firefighter who helped to organize this. She also talked to a woman with bright red highlights over black hair. The woman looked like a prune with red lipstick. “Psychic Karolyn Mathers,” Anna Lisa whatever said. “Are you offering your help?”
    The woman took a green flyer and rubbed it with both hands. She closed her eyes, and dramatically drew in. “I have a feeling,” she said. She opened her eyes. “I just wanted to be sure.”
     “What kind of feeling? Do you think you can find Willow Pratt?”
     She closed her eyes again. “Maybe I can.”
    Evelyn turned to her husband. Could this woman help? She had one hell of a reputation.
     Karolyn Mathers frowned. “I don’t honestly think this girl is with us. I think she’s passed onto the next world.” She glanced about, moving her head and her hands emphatically. “In fact I can feel her in this room. If I’m not mistaken, she’s spent a lot of time right here.”
      “You think?” Evelyn asked in Harry’s direction.
     He shook his head, and again, refused to look at her. “I don’t know. How much do you trust people like her?”
       “It might be worth a shot.”
Harry looked past her towards the TV set. “We’ll see.” That was hopeful. His eyes took on a hazy reflection. Like he was looking at the TV, but he certainly wasn’t seeing it. He must have been thinking.


Saturday,
January 11th

     A flurry left a dusting of fresh snow. Nothing more. The weight of what was on the ground, pushed down on itself, compacting it, transforming snow into ice crystals. A crust formed over the top and when broken, razor sharp edges scraped bare skin and tore at clothing. Red picked his belongings out of the snow and re­turned them to their place in the garage. He blew on his hands to warm them, rubbed them together and shoved them in his pockets as he returned for more.
    During his tantrums he had pitched tools, spare parts, paint and garbage without regard to where they landed. He spilled oil and transmission fluid, and he cursed himself because it was something he could use rather than her pink paint. He’d find a place for everything inside, except for the pink paint. That he pitched in the garbage.
    The floor turned out reasonably well considering how quickly they did it. It seemed fairly even, and had few swirl spots where Milk scraped his trowel against it. Red was satisfied though. So much so, he decided exactly where he wanted to park his ‘baby’, and exactly how ‘she’d’ look once he had parked her there.
    He considered leaving ‘her’ on the street at least one more day. The City snow plows made a trip through the alley, but the drivers weren’t very careful about where they pushed the snow. God only knows, if these guys showed a little more initiative, they wouldn’t have to block anyone in by pushing their snow against cars or garage doors. If nothing else, the City could provide some of those losers with shovels. For God’s sake they dug out Uptown. They could do the same for him. He paid enough taxes.
     As he sorted it all out in his head, he took to the street. Milk parked ‘her’ on Si­mon Street just around the corner from the alley. He said he did anyway.
Only Red couldn’t find her. He walked uphill, down the center of the street, checking both sides. He saw a black Olds and a gray Ford, but he didn’t see his black Corvette. On Fort Dearborn, he saw his neighbor’s blue Pontiac, and his old blue F-150 pick-up, but not his Corvette. A half block down, he decided to turn back and look again. He had to bypass it somehow. Only it wasn’t on his block. And it wasn’t on the next. It wasn’t on the Simon Street on either side of the intersection.
    'Crap,’ he thought. Some bastard ripped him off good. He hurried back to the house to call 911.

    “I found it,” the 911 operator told him. “It was towed.”
    “What?”
   “It was parked in a ‘two inch’ zone. It’s at the impound lot. A hundred and fifty for the tow, plus the price of the parking ticket.”
    “What parking ticket?”
    “You parked it in a ‘two inch’ zone during the snow storm. It’s a fifty dollar violation.”
    Red pulled the phone from his ear and examined it for a long moment. He drew in and replaced it. “What the fuck is a ‘two inch’ zone?”
   “It’s a fifty dollar violation. You want your car, you bring me fifty, and bring a hundred and fifty to the impound lot. They open first thing Monday morning.”

***

   “You know,” Pat Callaghan said when he answered the phone for the hun­dredth time that day, “I haven’t talked to this woman. I have no idea who she is or what she saw. She didn’t talk to me about Willow Pratt or anything else.”
    “Do you think she can help?”
    “I have no idea.”
    “You think you should call her maybe?”
    “If the Pratt family wants this woman, fine. The Portland P.D. is not in the habit of hiring psychics.”

***

    He glanced out the back window and there she was again. Sitting on the picnic table with her back to him, looking down at the garage. She held something in her hands that looked like the wadded up notice he tossed in the garbage at the Twenty Four - Seven. Why wouldn’t she just go away? Take all those miserable little critters with her, too. He shut the curtain and went back to bed.


    When he woke up, he went back to the same window. The curtains were gone. He had pitched them with his only decent blanket. The picnic table was still buried beneath a ton of snow, and most of those animals should have been hibernating. 


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