It rang two times and quit.

The bank teller counted out the money twice and still eyed me as though I’d made some error.

“Three thousand five hundred dollars,” she said.

“A cashier’s check made out to Thomas Bellamy Law.”

I nodded and pushed the withdrawal slip back over the counter.

That morning the account had had eleven thousand four hundred dollars in it.

Now it had less than eight.

At one o’clock I walked into the lobby of the Bellamy office on Tryon Street and gave the check to Thomas in person.