I reached into my bag and took out the legal document Arthur had drawn up.

The paper felt heavy and final in my hand.

I set the fake estate documents carefully on the passenger seat of my sedan.

At nine o’clock sharp Glenn rapped on the passenger window.

I unlocked the door.

He dropped into the seat and brought a wave of cheap cologne and stale coffee into the cramped car.

He picked the fake estate documents up off the passenger seat.

“You really had them drawn up,” he said.