Frederick Carl Frieseke Through the Vines painting

Frederick Carl Frieseke Through the Vines paintingFrederick Carl Frieseke The Garden Parasol paintingFrederick Carl Frieseke Lady in a Garden paintingFrederick Carl Frieseke Breakfast in the Garden painting
I’m wearing Rockports, not loafers. Dumping her in a sewage slough probably means he caught her screwing around, so he considers her filthy, a worthless piece of crap.”“Plus maybe he had knowledge of the jurisdictions, corruption had attained a degree of rot seldom seen outside a banana republic, though in this case a banana republic without bananas and with pretensions to glamour.A significant percentage of the politicians here operated like thugs. If the thugs saw you treatment plant, knew an easy way to get the body in there. Is that a cashmere sweater?”“Cotton. So your perp works at the plant?”Hazard shook his head. “He’s a member of the city council.”At once losing his appetite altogether, Ethan put down his fork. “A politician? Why don’t you just find a cliff and jump?”Shoving a stuffed grape leaf in his maw, Hazard managed to grin while he chewed, without once opening his mouth. After swallowing, he said, “I’ve already got a cliff, and I’m pushing him off.”“Anybody winds up broken on the rocks, it’ll be you.”“You’ve just taken the cliff metaphor one step too far,” said Hazard, spooning hummus into a pita wedge.After a half-century of squeaky-clean public officials and honest administration, California itself had lately become a deep sewage [62] slough not seen since the 1930s and about its dark side. Here in the early years of the new millennium, on a state level and in too many local