Chapter 40

The three of us leaned against a stone wall in the City Hall Park, picking at salad sandwich’s we had bought at a nearby grocer’s. The murder club meets again.

“You were right,” I said to Fatimah. I passed her a copy of the security photo showing Res Beard sneaking into the Cleveland wedding.

She stared at it, her eyes focusing intensely. Fatimah looked up only when the confirmation of her first physical supposition brought out a curious half smile. “ I only read whatever that Bastard left behind.”

“Maybe,” I said tossing her a wink. “But I bet Righetti would have missed it.”

“This is true,” she allowed with a satisfied beam.

It was a bright, brezzt late June day; the air was fragrant from crisp pacific breeze. Office folk worked on their tan; gabbed in groups.

I recounted what I had found in Cleveland what had taken place by the lake between Gabriel and me.