|Title||:||murder rides a wheelchair|
|Plot||:||+ It was late in the afternoon when this fellow Van Horn called. He gave an address out in one of the better residential districts and Brad Runyon told him he’d drive out the night and see him. The house was strangely quiet and Runyon got the idea that it was too big for the number of people living there. Van Horn was sitting in a wheelchair looking up in the direction of the moon; he was the thinnest man the fat man had ever seen…|
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