Appearances, copyright 2006, 2007, by Etienne. All rights reserved.
If the idea of two men loving each other and expressing that love in a sexual manner offends you, then you have clearly come to the wrong place. Feel free to leave.
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“Every time we go out to Gwinnett County, to do a job,” Steve said, “a Deputy starts following us.”
“It’s almost like they’re watching for us,” Roger said. “They even pulled us over a couple of times last week, and again this week.”
“They don’t give us a ticket, or anything,” Steve said, “they just take a lot of time looking at our licenses, registration, and insurance, and then they inspect the truck and trailer, to see if they can find anything wrong. They also make a few nasty comments about cocksuckers and stuff.”
“We always have one or two helpers with us, who are earning $10 per hour while all this is going on,” Roger said “and it’s costing us.”
“It costs even more when the truck is driven by our crew chief,” Steve said.
I asked a few questions, and listened to their answers. Finally I said, “This is a job for super sleuth.”
“Who?” Roger said.
“Whom do we know that detects for a living?” Philip said.
“Richard Greene,” Steve said.
“Bingo.”
I got Richard on the phone, and asked him to come over after dinner in an official capacity.
We went downstairs for dinner with the family, and were back in the study waiting, when Richard and Bruce arrived.
“What’s up, Charley?” Richard said, without preamble, as he entered the room.
“This involves the incident at the Mall of Georgia,” I said. “Remember. You interviewed Deputy Briggs for me.”
“Right,” he said.
“Steve and Roger are being harassed by Deputies every time they go into Gwinnett County,” I said, “and I want you to document it for us.”
“The boys will give you their schedule for visits to customers in that County,” I continued, “and every time they get in their truck to head that way, I want someone discreetly following them. I want to document the fact that they are being followed, and occasionally stopped and harassed. I want video, and I want them wired for audio. If you can’t get the names of the Officers on film, at the least, I want to be able to identify them and their County vehicles. Plus anything else you can think of that might help.”
“You’ve got it, Charley,” Richard said.
“I just had an idea,” I said.
“Are you going to keep it a secret?” Richard said.
“Let me run it by you,” I said, and I did so.
“I like it,” Richard said.
“Me, too,” Philip said.
“Steve, you and Roger can go do your homework while I call this guy and get him over here,” I said. “If he agrees to do this, I’ll introduce you after a bit.”
The boys gave Richard a copy of their schedule, and exchanged contact numbers with him. They said goodnight, and went to their room to do their homework.
I placed a call to Brian Scott, and told him I had a part-time job for him, if he wanted it. I gave him just enough hints to entice him to come over right away. He said he would be here in half an hour.
We poured some wine for our guests, and visited while we waited for Brian to arrive.
True to his word, Brian was at our door thirty minutes later. I led him upstairs to the study, where the others were waiting.
“Brian,” I said, “this is Richard Greene, and his partner, Bruce Lawson. You already know my partner, Philip. Guys, this is Brian Scott, ace television reporter.”
Philip gave Brian a glass of wine, and I gave him a few minutes to get acquainted with the others.
Finally, I said, “Okay, Brian, here’s the deal. You remember reporting on the incident at the Mall of Georgia?”
“Of course,” he said, “I got a lot of brownie points with my boss out of that one.”
“Two of the five boys that were attacked operate a lawn care and landscaping service,” I said. “They have a number of clients in Gwinnett County. Ever since the Mall of Georgia incident, they have been harassed by Deputies every time they enter Gwinnett County.”
“You sort of hinted at that on the phone,” Brian said, “and I think it’s terrible.”
“So it is,” I said, “and we are going to do something about it. Starting next week, one of Richard’s investigators will be following the boys’ truck every time they enter Gwinnett County. The boys are going to be wired for sound, and the investigator will be filming everything that happens. I’d like to have one of your cameramen with the investigators, and I’d like to have you in the jump seat of the boys’ truck. You look young enough to pass as one of their employees, especially if you wear a baseball cap, and kind of keep your head down. Are you interested?”
“Am I interested?” he said. “Of course I am. This is a chance to strike a blow for our side.”
“I told you he was family,” Philip said.
“My partner is justifiably proud of his ‘gaydar,’” I said. “That aside, the important thing in all of this is that you have to sit on this story for a while.”
“How long?” Brian said.
“Until we have enough evidence to convince a Judge to issue an Injunction, ordering the Sheriff’s office to cease and desist.”
“How long do you think that will take?” Brian said.
“Two, possibly three weeks,” I said.
“I don’t have a problem with that,” he said.
“What about your boss?” I said. “Will he or she grant you that much leeway?”
“After the scoop you gave me last time,” he said, “my boss will give me all the leeway I want.”
“Good,” I said. “I can promise you at least an hour’s lead time after the Judge issues an Injunction. If you have your report ready to roll, that should give you a leg up over the competition.”
“An hour is more than enough,” he said. “We can headline it as a breaking news story.”
“Let me introduce you to the boys.”
“They’re here?” he said.
“Steve is Philip’s nephew,” I said. “His boyfriend Roger lives here also.”
“There must be a story behind that.”
“True, but since they are minors, it can’t be published,” I said. “Are you familiar with the recent lawsuit against that Baptist preacher and his church?”
“Yes I am.”
“Roger’s parents let him live here with us because his younger brothers were two of the preacher’s victims,” I said. “After Roger came out to his family, his brothers were constantly telling him that he was going to hell because he was gay.”
“The bastard,” Brian said.
“That about sums it up,” I said. “Philip, why don’t you ask the boys to join us?”
Philip went down the hall, and returned a few minutes later with Steve and Roger. We introduced the boys to Brian, and told them what we had in mind.
“So, guys,” I said. “Want to take on a new, and somewhat temporary, employee?”
“You bet we do, Uncle Charles,” Steve said.
“All right,” I said. “Lets get this thing organized.”
We spent another half hour planning our little operation, and the boys said goodnight a second time, and went back to their room.
At our invitation, Brian hung around long enough to have another glass of wine. He left when Richard and Bruce did, and Philip and I went to the door to see them out.
Two weeks later we had Mason, Angela, and their younger sons over to dinner. I noted with interest, that the younger boys’ attitude toward Roger appeared to be thawing just a bit. After dinner, Roger’s brothers were picked up by their grandmother, and the rest of us retired to the upstairs study, where we were joined a little later by Brian Scott.
I introduced Brian to the Cartwrights, who already knew what we had been up to, and gave Brian the floor.
“I understand you have something to show us, Brian,” I said.
“Two somethings, actually,” he said.
He handed me a DVD and asked me to play it.
“This is the piece that we are going to run on the early news next week, just as soon as you get your Injunction and give me a heads up,” he said.
We watched the DVD with interest. It was a clear and concise report detailing the harassment the boys had been going through. Brian had even concealed a tiny camera in his hat, and had captured some very close-up and personal shots of various Deputies giving Steve and Roger a hard time, complete with crude and vulgar comments.
In his voice-over commentary, Brian managed to convey the fear he felt while sitting in the cab of the truck, experiencing the harassment. The film ended with a summary of the legal action I had taken, and included a reference to one Deputy’s sworn statement that they had been ordered to ‘have fun with the fags.’
The film ended and we all congratulated Brian on a job well done.
“What’s the ‘other something’ you wanted to show us Brian?” I said.
“Well,” he said, “Steve and Roger have probably told you that in addition to the trips to Gwinnett County, I have been following them around with a cameraman for the past week. I’ve put together a twenty minute human interest story on two teenagers who are working hard to pay for their education, even though they don’t have to do so. I would like very much to obtain permission from you folks to run the piece.”
“Let’s have a look at it,” I said.
Brian handed me another DVD, and I inserted it in the machine in place of the one we had just seen.
The story was extremely well done. Brian had evidently interviewed the two boys at length, before paring the interviews down to just enough details to get a sense of their lives, including the reason that Steve was living in Atlanta. They had even been interviewed on the school campus, standing in front of the Administration Building, and some footage from the previous summer’s car wash had been thrown in for good measure.
The camera picked up a typical day for them, beginning with practice with the swim team, which was their last school activity every day, following them from school to several of their jobs. There was some amusing speeded-up footage of Steve, Roger, and two of their employees mowing, trimming, and edging, followed by a brief interview with the four boys in their sweat-soaked tee-shirts, after a hard afternoons work. The story ended with a slightly longer version of the previous video we had been shown.
When it ended, I turned off the Television, and Philip broke the silence, saying “Wow, that’s prize winning material.”
“It certainly is,” Mason said.
“The question is,” Brian said, “can I use it? My boss wants to run it in four or five segments over several evenings.”
“Mason, Angela, what do you think?” Philip said.
“I don’t have a problem with it,” Angela said.
“Neither do I,” Mason said.
“Steve, are you and Roger okay with this?” I said.
“Yes Sir,” Steve said. “We think it’s kind of cool.”
“Especially since we got in a plug for this summer’s car wash, and the Jimmy Anderson Memorial Scholarship,” Roger said.
“Then I say, go for it,” Philip said.
“Just one thing, Brian,” I said.
“What?”
“I want some assurance that what will be aired, is pretty much what we just saw,” I said. “It would be very easy for someone to chop it up a bit, and place the boys in a bad light.”
“If you’re worried about any rampant homophobia at the station,” Brian said, “you needn’t be. I have total editorial control over this story, and more important, my boss backs me completely.”
Mason and Philip signed the necessary consent forms, and Brian left. When I came back upstairs, I said, “Mason, was it my imagination, or were your two younger boys just a little less uptight than before?”
“It’s a subtle difference,” Mason said, “but I think you’re right.”
“They’ve still got a very long way to go,” Angela said.
The following Friday I was in Gwinnett County, waiting to see Angus Ferguson.
When I was shown into his office Angus stood to greet me, and we shook hands. He was about my height, with thinning blonde hair, and appeared to be fairly fit. He was still a year or so on the good side of forty. “I saw your name on my appointment list, Charles,” he said, “and I assumed it had something to do with the Mall of Georgia incident.”
“It does, but not in the way you might think,” I said. “I’m about to file some fairly serious charges against Sheriff Roscoe. Take a quick look at these documents, and we’ll talk.”
I handed him a file folder, and settled down to wait for him to peruse the documents it contained. It took a while for him to digest everything I had placed in front of him.
Finally, he put the file down, and said, “That stupid son of a bitch.”
“I couldn’t have said it better, myself,” I said. “I’m going to file the suit, and then I’m going to ask Judge Ivory to grant a Temporary Injunction putting a stop to the harassment.”
“Judge Ivory has a heavy schedule, do you have an appointment?”
“Yes I do, and I have scheduled a press conference on the Courthouse steps for about an hour after that. Want to go with me?”
“You bet I do,” he said. “Give me a minute to return two calls.”
Angus went with me to the Clerk’s Office, and waited while I filed my paperwork, and obtained some certified copies. From there, we went to Judge Ivory’s office, where a plump middle-aged lady politely asked us to take a seat. After a short wait, we were ushered into the Judge’s Chambers.
Judge William Ivory rose to greet us as we entered his office. He was a tall, distinguished looking, and very thin black man. It was difficult to judge his age, but I guessed him to be pushing sixty. He greeted Angus warmly, and Angus introduced us.
“I am pleased to finally meet you,” he said, “I’ve watched your career with a great deal of interest. You’ve accomplished a lot in just a few years.”
“It’s mostly a case of being in the right place at the right time, and knowing the right people,” I said.
“Don’t be modest, young man,” he said. “Some of what you say may be true, but if you didn’t have what it takes, you wouldn’t be where you are today.”
“Thank you,” I said, “but I have to ask why you have been following my career.”
“Because,” the Judge said, “when your grandfather was first appointed to the Federal Bench, he saw potential in a young, wet-behind-the-ears, colored boy from Augusta, and made me his first Law Clerk. I had just finished my first year of Law School at the time. In a lot of ways those two years with Judge Barnett were the best two years of my life. Your Grandfather had one of the finest minds I’ve ever encountered. There were a lot of folks back then, myself included, who thought that, had he lived, Judge Barnett would have been on the Supreme Court in a few short years.” The Judge sat back in his chair, and there was a faraway look in his eyes for a moment or two.
When he came back to the present, he said, “Have you ever considered following in your grandfather’s footsteps?”
“The thought has crossed my mind from time to time,” I said, “but right now I enjoy what I’m doing too much to give it up. Ask me again, in twenty years or so.”
“If I’m still around in twenty years, I may do just that,” he said. “Have a seat, gentlemen,” he said, “and tell me what brings a prominent Atlanta lawyer to our little corner of the world.”
“In a word, Your Honor,” I said, “I’ve just filed a lawsuit charging the Sheriff of this county with misfeasance, malfeasance, and a few other things. I am here to ask you to issue a Temporary Injunction in the matter.”
“Those are serious charges,” Judge Ivory said, “please elaborate.”
“I’d be happy to, Your Honor,” I said. “Are you familiar with an incident that took place at the Mall of Georgia a few weeks ago, where some local red necks went after four gay boys, and a straight friend of theirs?”
“I know a little bit about the case,” he said, “why don’t you start at the beginning, and fill me in?”
I gave him a quick summary of the incident.
“The Deputies arrested the victims at the scene, and allowed the instigators to walk,” Angus said. “Later, when Mr. Barnett called me from the Sheriff’s office, I directed Roscoe to release the victims into Mr. Barnett’s custody. I also directed Roscoe to have the instigators picked up, booked, and then released to their parents.”
“The parents of the victims have pending actions against the families of the boys who started the fight, and I have filed charges against the Sheriff and his Department,” I said. “Which brings us to the present problem.”
“And that would be?” the Judge said.
“Do you have a DVD player and a television set in your office?” I said.
“I do,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
“If you have a few minutes, I can show you the reason for the suit,” I said. “Two of the victims in that incident operate a Lawn Care and Landscaping Service. Ever since that incident, the boys have been harassed by Deputies nearly every time they enter this County. I’ve had a Reporter riding in the back seat every time one of the boys’ trucks entered your county for a period of two weeks,” I said. “He has been working on a human interest story about two teenagers running a business to pay for their education. The miniature camera he wore while in their trucks caught three different Deputies in action.”
I pulled a DVD out of my briefcase, and handed it to him.
The Judge opened what I had taken to be an Armoire, revealing a well-equipped media center. He picked up a remote control turned the equipment on, placing the DVD in the player. After a few minutes, a menu displayed on the screen.
“Track one is a rough cut of the full story,” I said. “Tracks two through seven contain raw footage, taken in the cab of the truck on different days.”
The three of us sat through the story, and three of the other tracks before the Judge turned the device off, saying, “Enough.”
“As mentioned in the piece we just watched,” I said, “deputies have interviewed some of the boys’ customers, telling them that the boys are ‘under investigation’ for things unspecified.”
“Are you certain that the Sheriff is aware of what his people are doing?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” I said. “I have affidavits from three of the boys’ customers. I also have affidavits from two of the Deputies to the effect that they were personally ordered by Sheriff Brown to ‘have a little fun with the fags,’ whenever they could.”
“Oh my sweet Jesus,” Judge Ivory said, “the man has lost his mind.”
“Either that, or he’s living in the wrong century,” I said.
“He is certainly totally out of control,” Angus said. “I’m planning to launch a Grand Jury investigation of the Sheriff and his Department.”
“I would certainly hope so,” Judge Ivory said. “When will the story we just watched be aired?”
“The Reporter agreed to sit on it until after I filed suit,” I said. “I understand that it will be aired in four or five segments some time next week.”
“I trust you have given Mr. Ferguson a copy of these videos.”
“Oh yes,” I said, “that and much more.”
“Good,” he said. “May I see your Complaint?”
“Certainly,” I said, and I handed him the file.
He quickly scanned the Complaint, and glanced at the attached Affidavits.
He put the file down after a few minutes. “Your writing style reminds me of your Grandfather,” he said, “clearly you think like he did.”
“I’m flattered that you think I’m anywhere close to being in his league.”
“Oh, you are,” he said, “I spent two years doing research for Judge Barnett, and during that time I became well acquainted with his thought processes, and those same processes show up in your pleadings. Let’s have a look at that Injunction.”
I reached into my briefcase, pulled out the document, and handed it to him.
He read the document, then he took a pen from a holder on his desk, and scratched through a few things on the page. He punched a button on his intercom, and said, “May Belle, can you come in here for a minute?”
The middle-aged lady from the outer office came into the room and walked up to the Judge’s desk.
“May Belle, this is an Order granting an Injunction,” he said. “I want you to retype it exactly as you see it, except those places where I have scratched through the word ‘temporary’.”
She took the document, said, “Yes Sir,” and was about to leave the room when I stopped her.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” I said.
“Yes Sir?”
“I have that document on a diskette,” I said. “It will save you some work, if you care to use it, and you have access to Word Perfect.”
“Is there any other Program?” she said, with a smile.
“Not in my office,” I said. I fished the diskette out of my briefcase and handed it to her.
“Thank you,” she said, and she left the room.
The Judge looked at us, and said, “What those boys have been going through is frighteningly reminiscent of what my people used to go through, back in the day.”
“I totally agree,” I said. “However, I’m not sure some of the more vocal Black activists would concur.”
“Those people,” Judge Ivory said, with a snort of contempt, “seem to think that they have a patent on suffering, and no other group’s pain even comes close to theirs.”
“You know, Judge,” Angus said, “this whole situation is going to stir up the proverbial hornet’s nest in this County.”
“I know,” the Judge said with a sigh, “but we’ll just have to muddle our way through it.”
Our conversation was interrupted by May Belle, who entered the office bearing a document which she handed to the Judge.
He read through it, and handed it to me.
I looked it over, and said, “That’s fine with me.”
“Good,” he said. He signed it with a flourish, and handed it back to the middle-aged lady. “You know what to do with this, May Belle. After you’ve processed it, bring Mr. Barnett two or three Certified Copies.”
“Yes sir,” she said, and she left the office once again.
“Wow,” I said. “She’s as efficient as my secretary.”
“May Belle has been with me for a decade,” he said, “and she is a treasure.”
We made small talk for a minute or two, and May Belle returned with three Certified Copies of the Injunction. She handed them to Judge Ivory, and he handed them to me.
“I expect you are going to hand this to the Sheriff yourself,” he said.
“I certainly am,” I said, “and then Angus and I are going to hold a small press conference on the Courthouse steps.”
Judge Ivory told me again, how pleased he was to have finally met me, and Angus and I left his office. “Give my regards to your grandmother,” he said, as we left the office. “I still remember her many kindnesses from all those years ago.”
Angus led me across the Judicial complex to a building that I recognized as the one in which Steve and the others had been held. While we were walking, I called Brian on my cell phone. When he answered, I said, “We have our Injunction, you may proceed when ready.” He thanked me, and ended the call. Angus and I entered the Sheriff’s office, and found the Sheriff at his desk. Angus didn’t waste any time with preliminary chit chat.
“Roscoe,” he said, “you remember Mr. Barnett, don’t you?”
“How could I forget?” the Sheriff said.
“He has just given me a batch of paperwork that involves your department,” Angus said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that your Deputies have been harassing two of the boys that were involved in that affair at the Mall of Georgia,” Angus said. “They have a lawn care and landscaping business, and every time they come into Gwinnett County, your Deputies are following them, stopping them, and harassing them.”
“Says who?” the Sheriff said.
“Says the two boys. Says several of their employees. Says a firm of Private Detectives, who have been following them around for three weeks, taking video and some audio of your Deputies’ activities. What the hell were you thinking, Roscoe?” Angus said. “Your people have even interviewed several of the boys’ customers, telling them that the boys are ‘under investigation’.”
Roscoe started to babble an explanation, but Angus cut him off.
“That was a rhetorical question, Roscoe,” he said. “I told you not to mess with Mr. Barnett, and I know perfectly well what you’re up to. I even have sworn affidavits from two of your Deputies, stating that they have been directed to harass the boys. I also have affidavits from the boys’ customers.”
“We were just having a bit of fun,” Roscoe said.
“Fun?” Angus said. “Fun? Let me tell you what your ‘fun’ has accomplished. Mr. Barnett has just filed a lawsuit, charging you with a list of crimes too long to mention. He also has an Injunction signed by Judge Ivory, which orders you to stop harassing those boys. Your idea of ‘fun’ is going to wind up costing the taxpayers of this County millions of dollars.”
I took that as my cue to hand the Sheriff a Certified Copy of the Injunction, and I tossed it onto his desk.
“Okay,” Roscoe said, “you’ve made your point. I’ll put a stop to it.”
“It’s too late,” I said. “Judge Ivory has already put a stop to it.”
“If you’re smart,” Angus said, “you’ll do more than that. I’m going to launch a Grand Jury investigation of your department which will very likely end with your removal from office. You might possibly save your pension by resigning immediately, but even that won’t stop the investigation.”
Before the Sheriff could reply, Angus turned to leave the room. “Let’s go, Charles, before I really lose my temper.”
We went back to the Courthouse, and were waiting on the steps when the first reporters began to arrive. When the appointed time came, I spoke up, “As most of you know, I’m Charles Barnett, Senior Partner of Chandler, Todd, Woodward & Barnett, in Atlanta. With me, is Angus
Ferguson, District Attorney for Gwinnett County.”
Brian, who was in the front row of the assembled reporters, took this as his cue, and said, “Why are we here, Mr. Barnett?”
I proceeded to tell them that Judge Ivory had just granted an Injunction, and why. Then I turned things over to Angus, who detailed his intention to launch a Grand Jury Investigation of the Sheriff’s Department. We entertained their questions for twenty minutes or so, before things wound down.
The reporters left to send in their stories, and Angus walked with me back to where I was parked.
As I was about to enter my car, I said, “Thank you Angus, I owe you.”
“I’m not sure who owes who at this point, but you’re welcome,” he said.
“I’ll be in touch,” I said, as I closed the door.
When I arrived at the house, Philip was waiting for me in the study. “I’ve got the breaking news story on tape for you,” he said. “You’re going to love it. Our boy beat the competition by almost an hour.”
“Give me ten minutes to shower and change,” I said.
Exactly ten minutes later, I was in the study, with a glass of wine in my hand. “Okay,” I said, “roll tape.”
He pushed a button on the recorder, and we sat back to watch the early news.
The newscast started with a close-up of Brian Scott.
“This is Brian Scott reporting for Channel 2,” he said, “I have spent nearly three weeks conducting an undercover investigation of the Gwinnett County Sheriff’s office.”
He went into considerable detail, starting with the Mall of Georgia incident, and ending with an account of his undercover experiences. The report switched to video excerpts of Deputies stopping Steve and Roger’s truck, and audio of some of the things that the Deputies had said.
“This reporter was sitting in the jump seat in the truck during several of the above encounters, and I can tell you that it was frightening in the extreme. These two boys and their employees have been subjected to harassment and verbal abuse of the worst sort for no reason at all, other than that the two boys are gay.”
“Earlier this afternoon, Judge William Ivory of Gwinnett County issued an Injunction, ordering the Sheriff’s office to cease the harassment. This reporter is reliably informed that a lawsuit has been filed, charging the Sheriff with misfeasance, malfeasance, and numerous other crimes. We have also learned that a Grand Jury will be conducting an investigation of the Sheriff’s office.”
Philip muted the sound at that point, and I said, “Way to go, Brian.”
“The five o’clock news was pretty much a repeat of what we just watched, with the addition of a plug for the human interest story next week,” he said. “I taped it as well, in case you want to watch.”
“Thanks babe,” I said, “but this one is enough.”
It being ‘gang’ night, we spent some time in the Jacuzzi, discussing the events of the day with the gang.
“So, Charley,” Richard said, “I guess this means ‘case closed’, and we can stop the surveillance.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” I said.
“Why Uncle Charles?” Steve said.
“When the D.A. and I visited the Sheriff, and I handed him the Injunction, there was a lot of residual defiance in his attitude,” I said. “I saw something in his eyes that bothers me.”
“Do you think he will try something?” Philip said.
“I don’t know,” I said. “However, I want to err on the side of caution.”
“Do you want me to continue the surveillance?” Richard said.
“Yes,” I said. “At least for another week or two. In addition, does anyone at the GBI owe you any favors?”
“Actually, one of the top guys over there owes me a big one,” Richard said.
“Good,” I said. “In that case, here’s what I would like you to do.” I outlined a brief plan of action.
Richard thought about it for a full minute, and said, “We can set that up, no problem.”
Later, as we were all dressing, John said, “Don’t forget tomorrow evening. Joe is going to pull out all the Italian Food stops.”
“Right,” Joe said. “I’m digging deeply into my Grandmother’s recipes.”
“Is this a special occasion?” Philip said.
“You might say that,” John said, “but it’s a secret, for now.”
-To be continued-
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