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I sat in my office, nursing a glass of hooch and idly cleaning my automatic. Outside the rain fell steadily, like it seems to do most of the time in our fair city, whatever the tourist board says. Hell, I didn't care. I'm not on the tourist board. I'm a private dick, and one of the best, although you wouldn't have known it; the office was crumbling, the rent was unpaid and the hooch was my last.Things are tough all over. [READ MORE] [SEE ALL STORIES]




Nobody's asked the question I've been dreading, so far, the question I have been hoping that no-one would ask. So I'm going to ask it myself, and try to answer it myself. And the question is this: How dare you, an Englishman, try and write a book about America, about American myths and the American soul? [READ MORE] [SEE ALL ESSAYS]