“And David Spiller?” I asked.
Grandfather grimaced. “Ah, that was a bit more difficult. He came to the phone right away, and when I explained what was wanted of him, he became indignant and angry at having to discuss what he had so many times told the police. I patiently waited for him to expend himself, and then I informed him that we were an official part of the investigation. I told him we could speak at the 34th Precinct Station in Washington Heights, where various newspaper reporters with cameras may be found, or he can come to my office later today.”
I thought about Grandfather. I still had trouble aligning the gentle, soft-spoken man with whom I grew up with the hard-nosed detective that he could be when necessary.
“Great work, Zaida. I see we’re off to Connecticut tomorrow.”
“Y
