“Uncle John’s waiting on his evening care, and I won’t sit here listening to these crazy accusations.”

He went out into the front hall and pulled the heavy oak door shut behind him.

I stood by myself in the silent kitchen with the cold supper plates untouched on the table.

The heavy oak doors of the county records vault unlocked at ten to nine.

Clara used her clerk’s key to get around the front counter and led me past the public search terminals to the tall metal shelves in the back room.

“We’ve got twenty minutes before the regular office staff shows up,” Clara whispered, lifting down a heavy leather ledger marked Volume 412.