32
Sean Hinkle thought about the strange blackmail note he’d received. He knew why he received it, but any evidence shouldn’t matter. He was no murderer. Other things, perhaps, but not a murderer. He hoped he’d managed to convince Rebecca and that Freddy Kruger-looking partner of hers of that.
He sat in his apartment. He loved living on Telegraph Hill with a view of the bay. He loved looking out at the new Bay Bridge, the water, the lights of the city all around him, and to know that it was his city. He planned to become mayor some day, not just a staffer. With money and connections he could do it. He could do anything.
The night seemed oddly silent. Usually the sound of cars, music, loud conversations, and even an occasional fog horn out on the bay could be heard. But not tonight. Toni
