“We both wanted to believe Kane’s explanation of how and why he had produced the fake clipping. “Unfortunately,” said Grant, eyes on the road, “Kane’s story, combined with that bruise, would be found highly suspicious by someone more objective than us.” He was referring to someone like a detective, someone like his brother, Larry Knoll. “I hate to suggest this,” I said, “but given Kane’s relationship to you, and given your relationship to DMSA, it’s conceivable that Kane’s forgery would cast you... in a suspicious light.” Grant’s knuckles blanched on the steering wheel. “That worrisome little wrinkle has indeed crossed my mind.” “Grant,” I said, touching his arm, “Larry needs to be told this—all of this.” With a barely perceptible nod, Grant agreed, “Of course. And soon. But it’s a question of when.” He pulled the car into the bank’s parking lot. It was around eleven-fifteen. “Our best strategy,” I thought aloud, “is to plunge ahead with this evening’s press reception.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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