He opened her desk drawer and found the folder in which she kept her canceled checks. He extracted one, pleased with the sample of her signature. Cora A. Padgett with a little loop on the last t. He had a nice supply of tracing paper and he could whip out a decent approximation in no time at all. He endorsed the check-well, “Cora A. Padgett” endorsed the check-and then he put his tools away and picked up the stack of mail. He sorted through rapidly, disregarding bills except for the ones he didn’t want her to see. The last envelope in the pile was a letter addressed to Loden Galsworthy from an out-of-state bank. He reached for the letter opener, slit the envelope, and read the correspondence signed by a “Lawrence Freiberg,” one of two vice presidents. Mr. Freiberg, or “Larry,” as Tom was already fond of calling him, was writing to inquire about the above-referenced account on which there’d been no activity for the better part of five years. Interest had been accruing and was, of course, properly credited, but the bank was wondering if perhaps there was something more they might do for him. They’d recently established an investment arm for valued customers. Since Loden Galsworthy was numbered among their very best, Mr. Freiberg suggested that perhaps the bank might put him in touch with one of their financial experts for an analysis of his portfolio. Tom read the letter twice. This had to be an account of Loden’s that Cora had either overlooked or knew nothing about. Mr. Freiberg had probably never met his valued customer and clearly had no idea he was writing to the deceased-the late Loden Galsworthy. When he turned to the next page and his eye settled on the account balance, he barked out a laugh. $65,490.66.