“You didn’t do this.”

“That’s what I’m saying, Sergeant.

It’s the only one of the forty that has it.”

I held it closer.

Under the receiving stamp, where the carbon had pressed through from the sheet above, the tag number had been written a second time in a slant I did not recognize.

I folded that slip into my own notebook and closed the clasp.

“Your grandmother’s bus ticket still going up in December?” I asked.