‘What the hell was Cynthia doing under the Eads Bridge?’ I ask out loud. There was no one in my office so I didn’t get an answer. Picking up my ...hone I call Frank Wends, a St. Louis Police Detective. He and I had worked together while I was a detective, in fact he was my training officer. He was now the commander of the Detective section of the combined south side precincts. ‘What are you doing calling me on a Sunday?’ Frank asked. ‘Hello to you too Frank. Look I just saw the blotter report. "Put these on. I handed him one of Felicity's old dresses, a drab thing of linsey-woolsey, stained and torn from long use as a kitchen rag, and an old pair of wooden clogs. Felicity tied a tattered scarf about his head, and he looked like a clean-faced beggar girl of perhaps sixteen, not too bright."Call Ivy and the boys. We promised them," I said, and their mother beckoned them to come from her bedroom. They stood solemnly looking at the bony, young lieutenant. "Where are you manners,". More

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