Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

two thousand and eleven.”

The paper was a photocopied bank wire confirmation sheet.

There was Arthur’s signature, written with a heavy black ink that had bled slightly at the loops of his name.

The deposit went directly into a personal savings account at the Seattle Merchant Bank.

“Fifty thousand dollars,” I said, my voice flat.

“He told Gerald the sketches continue reading …