“Drink that before it grows a skin,” he said.

I looked at my watch.

Seven minutes to eight.

I drank half of it and left the cup sweating on the wood.

By eight thirty Gordon had a forensic technician sitting at his conference table.

The man unpacked a laptop, a square card reader, and a coil of gray cable.

Gordon adjusted his silver-framed glasses.

“Start with whatever the bank sent.”