In the midst of all he saw her turn from Astor Place onto Broadway, walking downtown. The first thing he noticed was the way she moved. Not just grace...ul, fluid. Maneuvering through the crowd deftly but without any appearance of speed or haste. At the tail end of the short skirt season she was wearing a tight black skirt and black tights, a tight black sleeveless top. From twenty feet away she looked like a living statue, weathered brown but taut and strong. Her short black hair barely moved. "I would hope the same is true for you. Well, except for telling you I liked that red scarf you got me for Valentine's Day last year. That was lie. I wore it once and then gave it to Goodwill." This is a little more important than my shitty taste in female clothing," I noted."Go ahead then," Elizabeth agreed. The tone of my voice had left a worried look on her face."When did you become involve in the Huntley case?" I inquired."I was involved from the beginning," Elizabeth answered. "Up to the. More

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