Suddenly I could see Walter at our kitchen counter, turning an apple slowly in one hand while the knife worked in the other.

He never cut himself.

He used to give me the largest piece and claim he preferred the smaller ones.

I had spent so much time studying his suspicious death that I had almost lost the ordinary man who had been alive before it.

Celia said he had become anxious near the end.

He started asking for receipt numbers rather than summaries.

He stopped accepting conversations that happened only by telephone.