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Talk about high-impact journalism (“Taking a Powder,” 6/29): Word has it that the coolest bars on 18th Street were almost empty last weekend, except for more than the usual number of narcs. Why? Because the ghost of the dear departed Patrick Tracey rumbled through town in the pages of his old Washington City Paper. The cops were riled, and their prey went to ground. It was a fine weekend to stay sober, maybe raise a glass of juice to the blighter safely holed up in London.
Cabin John, Md.