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Lots of it. Theres also quite a bit of my own separate property. There were two press conferences in the morning. The girl splashed into the water. Skully was good at doing two things at once. Who else is on the board? Fuck off. You knew it was substituted? Judge Sedgwick asked. Stone, Man or woman? Mason asked. I think bad people are bad, Stone replied. I could make a case that you are one of them, but Ive come to think better of you. But you knew afterwards? The ABC reporter was first off the mark with,Senator, some people say that this campaign is foundering. Youve got the reputation of being one of the most astute politicians in the country. Are you here to help try to put the campaign back on the track? She didnthave to say that, you grumpy old bastard. Havent you ever seen the way she looks at you? How would you really know whether or not youre the father, if you had sex with her? He didnt know? Sara the traitor. Stamos, well, Im not sure. But her wounds reflected the killers anger at maybe losing Sara, and Stamos and Sara were in love. And Saras parents’ hearts were destroyed. And from what I learned of their relationship it might mean the killer knows about Sara and her mother’s estrangement, too. The killer intimated that it was difficult for him to find their hearts, and that the world was better off without such people. That was my driver, Dino said, getting to his feet. I turned off my cell, so he had to ring the bell. He tossed off the remainder of his brandy. “Im going to go home and hide there,” he said. “Tell Helene it was a wonderful dinner, as always, and you two sleep well. Or something.” He departed. Hurt, not anger, was in Skullys voice. Hed been cooperating with Showalter. He had to wonder why the man had turned on him. I told Ruth that Id write the stuff on my way to Washington. I had also discovered that while driving I could usually compose a line a mile. In the bedroom I opened the closet and studied the remnants of a once fairly resplendent wardrobe. Time, fashion, and personal indifference had reduced it to one London-tailored suit (the last of six), which I planned to be cremated in, a couple of tweed jackets, some jeans, and a seersucker suit with suspicious labels. I chose the seersucker, a blue shirt, a black knit tie, and when I looked in the mirror I thought I looked quite natty — providing that one still thought of 1965 as a natty year...