The oak-paneled room smelled of old ledger paper, cedar shavings, and stale fireplace smoke.

Douglas laid two pink land record receipts flat on the green desk blotter under the brass reading lamp.

He took off his reading glasses, pulled a white handkerchief from his coat pocket, and polished each lens twice before putting them back on.

“These came off the printer at the county registry at four o’clock this afternoon,” Douglas said.

I moved up to the edge of the desk.

“What did you find?”