“Don’t know. Might have been last week. Maybe yesterday. I can’t know. I haven’t drawn him for a while. I know that. Years maybe. He does something at the harbor. Seasonal work maybe. I used to do that until I banged up my leg. He’d come in here a lot then. He slugged me a couple times because I was looking at his girlfriend. All I was doing was drawing her. He didn’t believe me.”
“You know anything else about him?”
“She was an uppity woman. Didn’t like me sketching her either. Called me a drunk. Why do you want to know? Is he in trouble? I hope he’s in trouble. I really do.”
Stuart shuffled through his drawings. Then his eyes lit up. “Here she is,” he said. “It took me a few tries, mostly when her back was turned.”
The sketch presented the woman in an odd profile, mostly showing the b
