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Ive just thought of something, Mason said. That junk that disappeared. Hang it, Della! Thats significant. Dont be arch, it doesnt suit you. Do you still have the envelope? Vullo Pharmaceuticals, Murfin said. The voice was old and urgent. To the Woodman& Weld trust account and to me. I got waylaid by a traffic accident. Had to take the long way around. So what do we do? In the old days the supporters of the other side would generally have been better dressed and more reserved. But such issues as abortion, gun rights, gay rights and education had changed the (if youll forgive the jargon) psychographics. My first impression was that the small interior had been tossed. Somebody had been looking frantically for something. But as I followed the beam I realized that, no, this was just the way some men lived. No mom, no wifey around, what the hell. Shes still my client, Mason said, and fitted his skeleton key to the lock in the door. Gauging the size of my balls. Murfin led the way toward the house. The two men followed behind him for about five paces and stopped. The blond man went into a crouch and raised his gun with both hands. I recognized the crouch although the last time I had seen the blond man go into it he had been wearing a ski mask. A red one. So had the man with the caterpillar eyebrows, although his ski mask had been a different color. Blue, I remembered. The sheriff led the way down to the basement. They found a long stepladder and, after some maneuvering, managed to get it up the stairs and into the big spacious study. George Alder was in a predicament. He didnt dare to destroy the letter because that would have been tantamount to an admission of guilt—and then of course Pete Cadiz knew about the letter and Dorley Alder knew about the letter. Made it or received it? Why not? Mason asked...