Drug-dealing and corruption are at the center of Cliff Hardy's 24th case I was about to punch in the number when a man loomed up beside me. When I say loomed I mean loomed--he was tall and wide with a shaven head, and the pale hand that plucked the mobile from my grasp and threw it away was super-sized. "Hey," I protested. He just stood there, a pace away now--a hundred kilos of bone and muscle in T-shirt and jeans. I had a gun...