A hidden microphone hummed, and the truth slipped away. In the early nineteen sixties, on a winter evening in Georgetown, a technician hunched over a reel-to-reel recorder. The tape ran while a radiator ticked and brakes hissed outside in the cold. Across town, two men spoke in a bright dining room, but the machine caught only the laughter from the next table and the soft thud of a closing door...
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