The phone woke me again. It was Shirley, and she was ready to retrace our work at the site of Cilla's death.  I begged for time to do a few homemaking chores; then I had a leisurely breakfast with Martha on my lap. I meditated over a cup of herbal tea and tried my best to prepare myself for what I knew would be a grueling day.

    About 9:30, Shirley drove up, hopped out of the car with a laundry basket in her arms, and marched up to my door. When I greeted her, she brushed past me and into my bedroom, where she left the sleeping Mikhail, and we were off.

    We walked the length of Glenmorrie Road again. Now that the FAN van was identified, Shirley wanted to check and recheck the entire crime scene area for further clues that could identify that van as the v...

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