<div class="floatleft">(https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/5b5a/33ou2hc5dq5wb5r6g.jpg)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><div align="center"><strong> <span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Nan Rapido</span> </strong> <span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></span><div align="center">_____<br/><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">Det. Kantonspolizei Zürich</span></strong></div></div></div><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">Let’s see.  How many pictures have I seen of the Warcaofs?  And I have spoken to them.  Have I actually, physically been in their presence?  Maybe, maybe not.  I don’t doubt that I told Pussy that I’d not met them; no reason for her not to remember.  But was there a reason to mislead; don’t remember, unimportant as she says.  I shrug and nod.<br/><br/>What I am interested in is knowing where we’re headed.  The address.  So far, no information.  As for a walk, “Sure, we can take a walk.  I hope they have a garden.” <br/></span>