"Yes, I saw the gun."

"How?"

"You twisted slightly at one point and I saw it before we went up the stairs. I'll be honest with you now. When I saw it, I almost turned around and walked away. That scared me a little. But I guess I can understand now why you had it."

"On that subject, do mind if I take it out of my refrigerator? I'm not sure the cold is good for it."

She chuckled. "Not at all. But can you leave it in the kitchen?"

She continued as I got up. "I'm not sure how I can convince you that I'm not—wasn't—working with my sister. All I can tell you is that I didn't like her. I'm not sure I ever liked her. She was dishonest and she was a liar. I couldn't trust her when we were young and I was relieved when she left home. I saw her from time to time after that, the last time at our mother's funeral eight or nine years ago."

She took a breath. I came back and sat down. She said, "As for what she was into when she contacted you, you probably know more than I do. It seemed to be consuming her, though. She kept talking about this lost painting, and she wanted to know how much mom had told me about our grandfather—technically Izzy's grandfather. Our father—my adopted father—died about twenty years ago. His father had died a couple of years before that. I don't know anything secret about either of them. Del," she added. "I'm very different from my sister. I'm here simply out of curiosity. What was she into and why did it get her killed?"

I was beginning to believe her. I looked down at her hand and saw that she didn't have a ring. That made me really want to believe her.

"Did she tell you anything about the painting?" I asked.

"Kind of. She kept referring to it as being extremely valuable, but I don't think she meant from an art point of view. In one conversation, she mentioned that it contained valuable information, but I'm convinced she had no idea what that information was."

So how much should I tell her? Not everything yet. I figured I'd dish it out slowly and see how I felt about her.

"Did she tell you anything about the heist itself?"

"She really didn't tell me anything about anything. What I told you was everything I know."

I stood up and walked over to where my jacket was hanging and unzipped an inside pocket. From an envelope I took out the copy I made of the newspaper article. I put the envelope back in the pocket and zipped it closed.

"I found an old package in my father's attic after the police informed me about Izzy. It was a hollowed out book that included an article, which I made a copy of. I put the original back in the book. It was stolen this morning when the person broke into my apartment." I handed it to her.