He exited the building, morning sunlight casting a soft glow in the east.  The darkened buildings nearby were nothing but silhouettes against a painted flat backdrop, the few people on the street an August Edouart arrangement in black.  Thirteen stood in the doorway for a few seconds to admire the stark elegance of his surroundings, then shoved gloved hands in his pockets and descended the steps to the sidewalk.

 This task had been as pointless as he had earlier suspected, but there had been no arguing with the Others.  They required he cover all avenues, and the police department had been first on his list.  With the FBI already involved, it was clear to him that all the evidence from Mr. Montgomery’s apartment would be kept in their offices, but he had to admit there was a minuscule...

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