Chapter Twenty Seven
Not liking any of it, Lieutenant Victor Garcia again sat at his desk, perusing the information he had received via fax, e-mail and donkey and every other way imaginable about the mysterious, Just Mal.
The Canadian Embassy had verified that Mal was a citizen of theirs, in fact an exemplary citizen who paid his taxes, still had a rambling artists loft in downtown Quebec and it seemed everyone missed the swell fellow and be sure to say “HI” when you see him.
The fact that Mal was no more a model citizen then Garcia was Swedish, the Lieutenant would never know. Having scads of money, a man could bribe and weasel his way through a countries computer system and make himself anything he wanted, which of course Mal had done, which Garcia had no inkling of what’s so ever.
A
