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The satphone next to Stone rang, and he picked it up. And Mason was smiling as he hung up the telephone. Think about that situation for a moment, Stone said. Sig, for reasons real or imagined, wants me dead. He was afraid to kill me himself, fearing that he would be killed or, at least, caught, so — unwilling to take that risk for himself — he asked you to risk your life to save his. Thatwas not a selfless act. Silence lingered for a few moments until Devine broke it.Did anyone check Saras social media accounts? I know she was on Instagram. And well now consider the envelope containing the contents of the purse, Mason said. Apparently there are keys, cards, a compact, a cigarette lighter—and yet the signatures on the envelope are perfect signatures. I presume the same holds true as to the signatures on this envelope. Max tried to dress like you used to, did you know that? Hamilton Burger became vociferous.It doesnt make any difference, Your Honor. It is completely incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial. This has no bearing whatsoever on the issues in this case. This is— Did he say imperative? I said. Stone blinked.Just like that? Just got a call from my office, and they insist they cant get along without me any longer. Ive asked Joan to book me on a flight home; ask her to send my bag, will you? It was great fun; lets do it again! And again, and again! Okay. Now I find myself in a position of sole responsibility and sole beneficiary under the trust fund, and I dont like it. I have no one to whom to leave the money and the responsibilities will probably decrease my life expectancy. Its Frank. May I come in? Yes, I do. Its in a desk in my office at the rectory. Mason took the envelope, placed the purse in the envelope, then held a sheet of paper over the envelope.Now, go ahead and sign your name, he said to the sheriff. They were asking about me and Sara. Did you know she was pregnant? Isnt Ted giving her his usual pep talk? Well, I guess not, no, sir. I guess youd call it a chortle. They traded them back and forth. Generations before him had ridden this very same route to make their living in the sweatshop spires of Manhattan. Many had died along the way from the usual suspects: widowmaker heart attacks, strokes, aneurysms, the slow death of neurological disorders and cancers, a liver painfully scuttled by too much alcohol, or self-inflicted deaths among those who could take the strain no longer...