“Here’s what I think,” Bernie said. We were out on the patio, Suzie, Bernie and me. They had coffee. I had a biscuit from Rover and Co. Have I mentioned Rover and Co.? Their biscuits are the best.
“What we’ve got,” Bernie was saying, “is footage of a real killing. I believe Ezra Printz, Hollywood PR flack at the time and grandfather or great-grandfather of our missing client Kelo Printz, got hold of the footage. Somehow, he ended up in the same mental hospital as the artist Martin Ramirez, and the footage got switched with a painting. What I’d like to do now is go back to Death Valley and have another look in that cave.”
“But didn’t you say the roof had fallen in?” Suzie said.
Hey! I remembered that.
“A slight problem,” Bernie said, “but – “
At that moment, I heard a car pull up in front of the house, and missed whatever came next. A few moments later, there was a knock at the front door. A heavy knock: even Bernie and Suzie heard it.
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