Dear Darling

Fourteen

Sunday, June 12th, 1925.

"Dear Darling,

As was planned, I picked up the key from Brady at W.S's Auto Body Shop at three o'clock sharp. I clutched it tightly in my hand the whole cab ride back to the RPD, letting the small groves indent my palm.

At the office, the whole group of police men brainstormed ideas of what the key could open. Our best idea was that it was either a safe or a building that Woody Silverman owned and wanted to keep closed while he went on a "vacation" with Sam Silverman. Honestly, I was still confused who Woody Silverman was and what part he played in the killings, but no matter who he was or what he did, his key could possibly lead us to Sam Silverman, and I knew that's what mattered. But since Woody mysteriously had no background files, we knew it would be hard to base a search off of the fact he was a mechanic.

Richard stood up while we were babbling off things the key could unlock, and offered the suggestion that we split up and check the Silverman residence and the auto shop for anything with a lock. Then we could use process of elimination to find what it opened. Since Bart was elected the temporary leader in Mr. Kramer's absence, we all looked at him for a decision. He nodded his head at Richard and began to split the whole department into groups, one to check the house, and one to check the shop. I was placed in the former group along with two women, Lucy and Amelia, and three men, Richard, Frances, and Bart.

It was unanimously decided that we should act as soon as possible, but it was already late, and many officers had families to get home to. I headed back to the hotel after Bart dismissed us all, and ate dinner alone on my bed, missing your comfortable presence beside me.

I remember the first time I took you home. It was raining and we had just returned from the local juice joint on the corner, drunk as a door knob. We were still underage back then, and I knew your daddy would get very angry at the both of us if I returned you home in your state of mind. So instead, I offered you to stay the night at my place, because I lived alone beside from Petunia the dog. It was, may I say, a pleasurable night, Sheba. Of course we forgot to phone your family that evening, so your dad was even angrier at us in the morning because he was worried sick all night long. But we made it out okay, and were attached at the hip ever since. I love you so much Sophie Hart.

With love,

Charles."