Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

space by the window where my pine drafting table had sat before he took it.

“The corporate archive is private property,” Frank said. “We cannot get a court order to search it without an active fraud case, and we cannot file the fraud case without the documents.”

“So we are done,” I said.

“Not quite,” Frank said, lowering his voice. “I spent the morning continue reading …