It was a brand-new leather checkbook register, dark brown and stiff at the binding.

“Every entry from your old yellow pad is reconciled,” Arthur said, leaning back against the vinyl seat.

“The whole sum?” I asked.

“The four-thousand-dollar jewelry purchase, the sedan buyout, and every single monthly envelope of cash,” Arthur said.

“It’s all cleared, balanced down to the penny.”

I opened the small leather booklet and looked at the crisp blue lines.

The top balance line read ninety-three thousand four hundred dollars in dark black ink.

“I can’t pay the three of you in cash for what you did,” I said, laying my hand flat over the paper.