Angela. I love what you left behind. Your scent, melony, yet sharp and immaculate as yogurt. Your diaphragm, placed, according to the promise, in my nightstand drawer as a token of fidelity. And the pearls. The pearls.

During the course of last year's Lake Como weekend conversazione on the subject of crime writing, it was suggested that the participants might enjoy (not that there wasn't enough to do given the