I slid my right hand into the inside breast pocket, expecting to find his pocket notebook or his metal tape measure.

Instead my thumb grazed a thick patch of blue flannel lining that had been ripped open and stitched back up with black thread.

Something hard and cold slid against my knuckles inside the lining.

I reached in farther, working two fingers into the hidden pocket behind the silk label.

My fingertips found a flat piece of metal attached to a little leather tab.

I drew it out slowly, keeping my eyes on the kitchen doorway.