Spend Game [antikvár]

1N^ O matter what people say, you can't help getting into trouble. And the antiques game is nothing but trouble-beautiful, lovely trouble. As far as Fm concerned that means being in trouble all the bloody time.This story starts where a pretty but terrified woman was holding my hand in a thunderstorm. We were looking down at the dead man in the ditch, and I was frightened too. In fact, I bet I was more scared than she was, because I knew roughly why he'd been killed. She didn't.The rain was hurtling down in great falling clouds. We were soaked and it was pitch black. Occasional sheets of lightning washed the silent night sky into sudden silver, letting us see his face and our own aghast paleness. It was my friend from the auction, all right. We call him Leckie. The rumble of thunder from the east seemed to shut the light away and Sue and I hung on to each other's hands for1