She expected him to return with another binder, or maybe an encyclopedia of animals, but when he sat down again there was only a single photograph in his hand. “Did he look like this?”
Phoebe examined the photo. It was older, glossy and developed from film. A yellow date stamped on the bottom corner dated it to 1997. In the picture there were two men. The man on the left had the aspect of a falcon, and the man on the right was the one who had attacked her on the train. Even though his eyes had more light in them, and his face hadn’t been worn as much by age, she was certain that it was, indeed, the same face.
She flipped the photograph over to reveal scrawled text which read “Ivan and David.” In Cat’s handwriting, “Morevna (left)” and “Connell (right)” were written underneath, so that the full inscription became “Ivan Morevna (left) and David Connell (right)”.
“That’s him, David Connell.” she said.
Cat leaned back in his chair, his expression cold.
“Okay,” he took a breath and stopped the tape recorder, “We’ll need to confirm that. We can’t be making assumptions. We’ll need to find him and see if he has an alibi, hear his side of the story. And in all my years of trying I've never been able to get a hold of him. Shit, that doesn’t help his case.”
Not much to report.