He did not make some comment about the night before.

He came straight to me, holding something against his chest with both hands, and I saw that it was a thick binder bound in dark leather, heavy-looking, official.

Before I could even ask him what was going on, what could possibly have him looking like that, he held the binder out toward me, and he said, in a voice that was quiet and unsteady and completely unlike the man who had taken my four hundred dollars the night before, four words that I have never forgotten.

“I think you need to see this.” I took the binder from his hands.