Casebook 4: A Score Settled - 4.5[index]
I looked up from my sandwiches to see the smirking detective. He was not looking his usual satisfied self.
“Sir, the Austrian hotel room. It's a suicide.”
I was so surprised I spat tuna paste across his shirt front.
Back at the office, I unearthed the paperwork from my desk. The file contained our operative's observations for the month he had been in Vienna; there was nothing of interest. I looked again at the note that had fallen from the record sleeve.
I looked up from the note to gather my thoughts and my eye caught the clock on my desk. The display read:
I looked at the note again for a moment and then scribbled on my notepad:
| July August September October November | December January | February March April May |