“Signed by whom?”

“Charles R.

Baldwin, temporary managing trustee.” He pushed the copy across the desk and kept two fingers on the corner of it.

The seal in the lower left was raised, silver gray, pressed hard enough to pucker the paper.

Under it was a commission number, six digits I didn’t recognize.

“Who’s the notary?”

He read the name off the stamp.

“Dolores Prine.”