“Do you think he’s still around?” She paused thoughtfully. She had found the location of his firm on the internet on a library computer, tracing him to this place in New York where he practiced criminal law. This unexpected interpolation might spoil the efficacy of all that had gone before. Cheveney walked away with a shrug of the shoulders. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. The man looked hard at him. He first met her when he had caught her smoking behind the Joliet LaudrO-Matic one cool overcast day in late August. “I have been bearing this—for your sake.
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