Even if she could. And I had no leverage to make her try.It helps me, for some reason, to talk with Hank. It frees me to sort out my thoughts. To focu.... Let my subconscious work on things.I looked off into the middle distance, not really seeing the cemetery. But remembering Hank’s funeral. That sunny day, all that law enforcement presence.I smiled to myself as a half-recalled image of Emile Chanson swam to the surface. How he stood at solemn attention at the graveside. Black Homburg held over. "Yeah it was good thanks mum," I replied. "Laura's made somenew friends," Dad told mum. "They came over this afternoon." "That'sgreat," mum said. "One of them is a boy," dad said winking at mum. "Ohreally?" mum asked. "Do you like him?" she said. "Dad!" I whined at him."It's nothing like that. George and I are just friends and we've onlyjust met." "Ok Ok," mum said chuckling, "is he pretty though?" Um, yeah I guess." I hadn't really thought about it when I met him butnow I guess you could say I. More

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