Chapter 16: Freud Again
Dove and Hammer Pub
They seated themselves at a table near a window fronting the busy street and ordered two large lagers from the barmaid.
“What did you mean when you said we’re closer to figuring out this mess?” Leslie took a gulp from his drink and wiped his mouth with his coat sleeve.
“I wouldn’t rule Bertie out just yet. At least not until we see him in the flesh.”
“Look you said yourself Father Anselm in a lucid moment didn’t remember a boy with a limp.”
“Right.”
“I don’t, either, and neither does Dot Perkins, for that matter. And if we’re right, Bertie—”
“Didn’t have one, either.”
“I don’t understand,” Leslie said. “Enlighten me.”
“The boy did have a limp,” Robert said.
“I don’t follow any of this. Drink up. It might clear your head.”
Robert laugh
