“Where were you?” Arfa groaned.”The key was in your bag, so I could not get in,” Amy answered.“Where were you last night then? ” Arfa aske..., searching for the keys in her handbag.“Well, riding someone,” Amy grinned ears to ears.“Wait… What? And how?” Arfa asked, surprised after finding the keys.Last night, Hari had dropped Amy at the parking of her apartment. Amy walked towards her apartment, trying not to shake her melons since her bra was donated to Hari. But she had forgotten the keys. A visit by the Runners found the place deserted, with more copies of forged documents and seals of state lying strewn around. Slade had the landlord brought in for questioning, but all he could tell us was the house had been rented to a tall, red headed, well-built young German by the name of Erich von Stroheim.Krish's account, of how grateful and appreciative the Davenports had been when the body of their son had been brought home, reminded me of the young French officer we had buried on the. More

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