В сердце большого города скрываются тайны и загадки. Каждое утро открывает новый слой этой истории, напоминая о безвозвратности прошлого. Внутренние драмы и судьбы, переплетающиеся в пространстве и времени, создают непредсказуемую атмосферу будничной мелодрамы.
“What is it you would like Claudel to do?”
I gave that a few moments’ thought.
“Canvas the neighborhood. Learn more about the building. Research previous residents. Find out who owned the place. Who lived there. How long the first floor has been commercial. What businesses have occupied the premises. What building permits were issued and to whom.”
“There you go.” Again, the upraised palm.
“That’s the second time you’ve said that.”
“Don’t force me to three.”
“Where do I go?”
“To the solution to your problem.
It was too early. I wasn’t making the bridges.
“Which is?”
“Do it yourself.”
“Claudel would go ballistic.”
“How could he? He says the bones are old. He sees no reason to explore further. You’re doing additional research.”
“It’s not my job.”
“Apparently Claudel thinks it’s not his either.”
“Claudel has no interest in my suggestions, but if I do anything that even loosely resembles detective work, he gets overtly hostile.”
“Look. You don’t have to make a TV series out of it. Just poke down the burrow and see what crawls out.
"I thought about that while Anne entered, erased, then reentered thirty-four down in her puzzle. She had a point. What could it hurt to check out old deeds, tax records, and building permits? If Claudel was right, I’d be working with the archaeologists anyway. Besides, he was going to be tied up with this sting Ryan had mentioned. Also, when Claudel was free again and heard I was looking into things, though furious, he might feel obligated to do more investigating himself, just to guard against my finding things that he had not.
At that moment, the doorbell chirped. When I answered, SIJ announced its presence. I buzzed the team in, pointed out the damaged French door, Anne’s room, and Katy’s painting, and asked if they’d mind starting in the living room.
While the techs shot photos and dusted for prints, Anne and I retreated to our respective quarters to dress and brush and apply whatever makeup each deemed essential. During my toilette, I considered options.
It was Friday. Public offices were closed on weekends. If I examined the third skeleton today, I wouldn’t have access to the courthouse or City Hall until Monday.
I could work at the lab anytime, over the weekend if absolutely necessary. I couldn’t research records anytime.
Decision.
Once again, full analysis of the third skeleton was being deferred.
After replenishing Birdie’s food and water, I checked with the SIJ techs. So far, zip.
