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The Client John Grisham 2022/8/8 14:56:33

MNUTES LATER, AS THE PLANE TAXIED TO THE END OF the runway, Glint eased to her side and took her hand. They watched silently as it took off and finally disappeared in the clouds.

She wiped tears from both cheeks. "I think I'll become a real estate lawyer," she said. "I can't take any more of this." "He's quite a kid," Glint said.

"It hurts, Glint." He squeezed her hand harder. "I know." Trumann appeared quietly beside her, and the three of them looked at the sky. She noticed him, and pulled the micro-cassette tape from her pocket. "It's yours," she said. He took it.

"The body is in the garage behind Jerome Clifford's house," she said, still wiping tears, "886 East Brookline." Trumann turned to his left and stuck a radio to his mouth. The agents bolted for their cars. Reggie and Glint did not move.

"Thanks, Reggie," Trumann said, now suddenly eager to leave.

She nodded at the distant clouds. "Don't thank me," she said. "Thank Mark."