Beside the teapot, a second page lay half under the bakery box.

It was a notary acknowledgment form, blank except for the date.

The date was Friday.

Edith Mallow had the parcel file on the counter before I had finished signing the request slip.

She squared it against the blotter and brought the wooden stamp down twice on the top page.

“Two-three-one Maple,” she said.

“Your certified copies came back from Albany Thursday morning.”

I put my left hand flat on the folder so it wouldn’t slide.