Pete had a penchant for illegal wiretaps. He was a big fan of planting mikes behind picture frames and slipping listening devices in among the potted ferns. I guess we all have our preferences. I put the tape recorder where it had been, replaced the lid on the box, and marked it with a big X. I’d chat with Ruthie and explain why I wasn’t returning it. Even a decade later, Byrd-Shine business was confidential. The contents should either be shredded or permanently consigned to my care.

I did a cursory search of another five boxes before I lost heart. Dietz was right. I wasn’t getting paid, so why bust my butt? I suppose I’d been hoping to find a fat manila envelope filled with spare cash, but apparently among the treasures Pete clung to, money wasn’t one. It wasn’t noon yet, but I was hungry. I was also grubby enough that I longed for another shower. There’s something about used paper and old storage containers that leaves you feeling chalky around the edges. I trotted myself up the spiral stairs, stripped down, and started my day all over again, emerging from the hydrotherapy feeling happier. I swapped out my sooty jeans for fresh and pulled on a clean turtleneck. I knew Rosie’s would be open for lunch, so I grabbed my shoulder bag and a denim jacket and headed out. I was in the process of locking my door when I spotted William out of the corner of my eye.

He was sitting bolt upright in an Adirondack chair, wearing his customary three-piece suit, starched white dress shirt, and a dark tie, carefully knotted. He had his face tilted up to absorb the October sunshine, and his hands rested on the cane he’d propped between his highly polished wingtip shoes.

“Hey, William. What are you doing out here?”

“I came to visit Ed.”

“Is he here?”

William opened his eyes and looked around. “He was a minute ago.”

We both did a quick survey, but there was no cat to be seen.

“Where’s Henry? I’m assuming you’ve met his houseguest.”

“Anna’s your cousin, isn’t she?”

“A cousin of sorts. She lives in Bakersfield unless she’s decided on a permanent change of residency. I take it they’re off someplace.”

“A beauty-supply shop. They’ll be back in a bit. You don’t care for her?”

“I don’t. Thanks to her I got stuck with a huge bar bill and then she tried bumming a ride with me. I had no intention of driving her down here so what does she do? She takes a bus and now she’s moved in next door. Don’t you think that’s pushy?”

“Very. I don’t like pushy people.”

“Neither do I.”

I pulled over a lightweight aluminum lawn chair and sat down next to him. “How’s your back doing these days?”