CHAPTER 10
“I have got a problem” Frank was telling Maureen next evening. Actually, he was telling himself, only that Maureen was there to listen. He was yet trying to recover from last night’s rowdy gig: a blur of noise, flashing lights, sweaty bodies, and booze. He had slept all morning and was at this time attempting to make his tender stomach accept some food. Maureen was engrossed with her accounting, but she had looked briefly up, distracted.
“What is the problem Frank?” she asked.
“I am trying to track a stolen item; there is a lot of money involved,” Frank told her.
Maureen abandoned her accounting, drew a chair, and sat next to him. She rested her chin on his shoulder. Frank found this uncomfortable, especially while trying to eat a reluctant lunch.
“I like the money bit. How
