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came to check on them, she handed him the top page.
He carried it upstairs and laid it beneath Lorenzo’s lamp.
A child’s sketch.
An older man, white at the temples, dark on top, long coat, red line down the left cheek.
Not professional.
Unmistakable.
“That,” Vincent said, “is Salvatore Vieieri.”
The next morning, Lorenzo cleared his calendar for a child.
He continue reading …
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