"When was this?" I asked.
"About six years ago. June of '50. But I blamed myself for her death. That's why I asked to be transferred out of vice and into homicide. I tried for a year to determine what happened and solve her murder. But I couldn't."
"Well," I said, "maybe if we go over the evidence I've uncovered we might be able to come up with something."
He looked like a fire returned to his eyes that had long been doused.
We got to the precinct house in downtown San Francisco at about 4 am.
I was exhausted...