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So, what are you going to do? Oh, Mason said, now its a reasonable time. Before it was immediately after. A matter of seconds, I believe you said. About four hundred gallons a year, I said. A little over a gallon a day. What did they teach? Stone went to the shops door, but it was locked. A lone woman was seated at a desk across the room. He tapped his signet ring on the glass, and she drew a finger across her throat.Closed, she mouthed. He pushed it open and poked his head in.Hello, Ellen, Fred? Its Travis Devine. I just wanted to talk to you for a minute. Oh, Your Honor, Gloster said, this examination is going far afield. Counsel is evidently sparring for time. Some of the others on the board of directors. I didnt say that, Mason told him. The case you were sent down to La Jolla to work on had nothing to do with the taxi driver. Sure. Yellow-Dog Contract Theory. And you telephone in to cab headquarters, announcing when youre making a trip. In other words, you telephoned in when you started out to the country club? Valentine, with his gamer headphones on, was lying on the couch working on his laptop, as always. A beer was on the floor next to him. He looked up as Devine came in, his expression anxious. He had apparently been awaiting Devines return. Tell me about the torn canvas sacks. He had looked up the property online. The place was twenty-seven thousand square feet, a dozen bedrooms, seventeen baths, two kitchens, servant quarters in an adjacent cottage, a large guesthouse in case the twelve bedrooms werent enough, along with the resort-sized pool and eight exquisitely landscaped and private acres. There were no pictures of the interior online, which told Devine the place had been built by Cowl and had never been on the market for resale. It was tax-assessed at a figure that was less than half ofwhat it would cost to buy or build...