It’s a good desk.

Quiet.” The laugh rolled up out of him, big and loose, and the facilities director laughed along with him because that was what you did around Derek Vance.

All I could see was a column of four-digit numbers in a black notebook.

The shredding order in October.

The folder he had dropped at the copy machine and then couldn’t quite leave alone.

“You’ve been a busy man,” I said.