VII.
“You don’t expect me to believe that story, do you?”
Olivér, the investigator stared bewildered at the old woman, who had made him get up at dawn. The only reason he got up at five–thirty was to come into the office and listen to this “report,” which Gran refused to impart unless he showed up in person before she left for her next “stakeout.” And Gran had certainly been spirited away by her imagination, because she kept rambling on about how the observed woman was pregnant from her lover whom she had locked in her closet.
“It’s no yarn, dearie. But rule number one is that we never smoke on an empty stomach,” she said, plucking the burning cigarette from between his fingers and putting it out in the ashtray. “I’ll soon prove to you that I’m telling the truth.”
“I doubt you have too
