The account holder name printed above the routing digits was Clara Sterling, with her home address on Elm Street listed just below it.

I held the slip under the brass desk lamp to read the fine print along the bottom edge.

The transfer had moved forty-five thousand dollars straight out of Vance Contracting’s reserve into Clara’s private account.

I set the paper on the leather blotter and opened the small mahogany box in his top drawer where he kept personal things.

The velvet tray inside held two rusty paperclips and a spare truck key, but the receipt for the expensive pearl necklace I had found the night before wasn’t there.

The burgundy velvet slot where a necklace would go was completely empty, with no sign of the velvet box from the downtown jeweler.