Marty Fish was a collections man without equal. Unshakable as a shadow and relentless as the tide, Marty squeezed the deadbeats with a voice like a viola. Or a fist.
Nobody made you get that card, Marty liked to say, and You’ll pay what you owe, by God. They always did, and not by God–by Marty.
When Marty stopped coming to work, the agency replaced him. It’s too bad, his supervisor said.
When the police found Marty stabbed to death in his tidy bachelor apartment, nobody was surprised. His debts were apparently paid in full, plus some accrued interest.