Chicago Scheherazade
CHICAGO SCHEHERAZADE Prologue "I gotta tell you something," Charlie said. "What's that?" Nina pulled on her blouse. Charlie was still naked on the bed, sweating a little from his recent exertions, his rounded paunch rising and falling. He was forty-nine; his hair was graying, his face jowly, but his small dark eyes were sharp and piercing. Nina was twenty-two. She...