The car rolled under the concrete overhang, and the garage door came down behind it.

Arthur had the statements fanned out across the kitchen table before I even had my coat off.

“May through September,” he said.

“Sit down.”

I sat.

Gordon Bell set his briefcase on the counter and left it shut.

Arthur turned the yellow legal pad around and pushed it over to me.

He had ruled four columns by hand and filled them in with ink.