FIFTY-ONE
The sunshine was warm, wisps of cloud filled the blue sky, and a gentle breeze softened the warm air. Central Park was full of those who just wanted to get away from it all and lounge in the sun on the soft grass; joggers passed by, in their efforts to stay in shape for that up-and-coming holiday. The only sound was the noise of the park, dogs barking, children playing, the odd new musician trying to sell his latest album. The park was a place of peace and tranquillity, a place where even the noise of traffic seemed to be phased out by the park's serenity.
McCall sat on the stone bench opposite the Victorian steps of the Bethesda Terrace; she looked upon the almost aged sandstone steps and the underpass. McCall sighed fondly at the memory of her first encounter with Steel, how
