“What movie?” Doyle asked.

Larkin smiled but didn’t look up. It was a smart and simple detail to confirm, one that could catch a liar in a snare. “Whitmer didn’t ask.”

Doyle muttered something under his breath before moving to the cart window as the purple-haired woman walked away with her prized bag of bagels. “Got any egg-and-cheese left? Great, two, on bagels, please.”

“I said I already ate.”

“Are you a vegetarian?” Doyle asked.

“No.”

“Allergic to anything?”

“Strawberries.”

Doyle said, “You need to feed that big, beautiful brain some protein.”

Larkin finally glanced up from the file. “He’s going to put American cheese on it.”

“Yup, probably.”

“The amount of sodium in a single slice of that plastic-y, cheese byproduct—”

“And you ate cake batter for breakfast.”

Larkin pursed his lips before saying, “Nothing with a shelf life of half a year is healthy.”

Doyle paid for the late breakfast, accepted the foil-wrapped sandwiches, and joined Larkin. He held one out with a placating smile. “Out-in-the-field, rule two: if being hangry can be avoided—avoid it.”

Larkin snapped the folder shut, tucked it under one arm, and took the offering. The foil was warm, and as he unwrapped the food, had to admit that it was difficult to be annoyed by Doyle’s insistence when the aroma of melted cheese, hot egg, and the unique majesty that was a New York bagel hit him hard and fast. Larkin’s stomach growled. He took a bite, and while standing on the street corner beside Doyle, who had left the conversation of HSAM behind in the bathroom, who hadn’t pushed for an inch more of information, who had allowed Larkin to collect himself and pretend he was okay even though he wasn’t, so he could focus on the job, well… Larkin didn’t really care all that much about the cheese’s shelf life anymore.

“What’s typically your first move on a case like this?” Doyle asked between bites.

“Visit the crime scene, dump site, or last known location of the victim.”

“Despite twenty years having passed?”

“Twenty-two. Yes.” Larkin looked up and added a bit more gently, “I understand it seems a waste of time, but seeing a location, or as much of a location that still exists, bridges the gap between the past and present. It’s humbling, in a sense, to be reminded of people who lived and died before us.”

Doyle didn’t argue. “The apartment he and the roommate shared, then?”