That was Leonardo’s motto. He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets. The great door of the Stone Hall was thrown open, and the sheriffs, preceded by the javelin-men, entered the room. He was almost frightening in silhouette, his hair uncontrollable under the best of circumstances, but that changed when you saw his face. Fresh ground, no chicory, and all the rest of it. He pulled away. Cathy chimed. "You don't recollect me, I presume?" premised the stranger, taking a seat.
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