“You know who he is, right?” the detective’s partner mumbles. The stocky dark-haired man lights up a Lucky Strike, still not removing his calm gaze from the two policemen. The detective lowers his voice to a whisper. “How long has someone like that been coming here?” First time? The house thinks, sending a chime through the dining room chandelier again. Four years ago, end of ’50. And wasn’t that a night to remember!
