Chapter 94

“Holy fucking shit,” I said.

“What?”

“Would you believe there are details of seventy-three murders in these documents?”

“Holy fucking shit, indeed.”

“They date back more than ten years.”

“Bob was a busy little beaver, wasn’t he?”

“Unless he spent it all, he’s certainly a millionaire or close to it. Shit, he probably made enough performing as Monique that he could squirrel away the rest of the money.”

“Want a refill?”

“Sure.”

I opened up my word processor and began to type. Thirty minutes later, I sent a rough draft to the printer, setting it to print two copies. When they came out of the LaserJet, I handed one to Mike

“See what you think of this?” I said.

I read my copy of the draft while Mike was reading his, and I made a couple of notations in the margin of the document before I looked up.

Mike was staring at me. “What?” I said.