Death Mask by Michael Devaney Page B

for sneaking around a graveyard.
    After a short, bumper-to-bumper taxi ride to the hotel, they checked into separate rooms and unpacked their bags. A quick change of clothes into more concealing attire and they were set to begin their sleuthing efforts. According to Finn’s records, John Piperr’s registered burial plot was located in a cemetery named Whitechapel Hills and was only a few blocks from their hotel on the west end of Central Park. With any luck Finn hoped to locate the cemetery, find what they were after and be out, undetected, within a couple of hours.
    While Finn busied himself checking then double-checking his gear and a variation of notes and maps, Andria, ever the willing participant, watched stoically and awaited further instructions. She and Finn had done well together so far. They seemed to instinctually feed off each other’s energy and expertise. As an extension of that reality, she had blindly trusted him when he had suggested their next move, or clue, resided in New York. Because of their recent progress it seemed natural to go with the flow, but now, with time to think, she wondered how, or what, made Finn so certain they’d find something significant here. Not being shy, she did what came natural…she asked.
    “Listen,” she said. “Before we do this, I’ve got a question.”
    “Shoot,” Finn said, a little distracted by his OCD-like preparatory methods.
    “I didn’t bother prying earlier to ask where, and how, you’d gotten your information that brought us here tonight and what made you so sure of yourself, but now my curiosity is getting the better of me.”
    Finn stopped his preparations and sent her a peculiar glance.
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize…” In mid sentence a humorous thought crossed his mind triggering a satisfied smirk to grow across his face. “Wait a minute. You’re not scared are you?” he asked.
    Andria rolled her eyes and grunted. “Of course not,” she said. “Don’t be ridiculous. I handle centuries old bones and artifacts on a regular basis at the museum. I just want to know the plan that’s all.”
    “If you say so,” he said, tongue-in-cheek.
    “Yes, I say so!”
    “Okay, okay. I was only kidding. But you do make a good point about the need for a quick huddle session before we head out.”
    “Okay, great. But…”
    “But what?” Finn asked. “You’re not having second thoughts about going with me tonight are you?”
    “No, no. It’s nothing like that,” Andria said. “I’m actually excited about our little…field trip. And I’m certainly not doubting you. As a matter of fact, it’s quite the opposite. I’m seriously intrigued to know just how you came about your information and were able to piece the details together so quickly.”
    “Hmm. Well, while your confidence is flattering, I’m not sure my powers of deduction would rival that of Sherlock Holmes, but even so, keep in mind that no respectable detective reveals his sources, regardless of the circumstances.”
    “Funny,” she said.
    Finn wiggled his eyebrows up and down several times in a joking manner. “All jokes aside I do have a bit of an admission to make.”
    “Really?” Andria said, her tone turning suspicious. “And what might that be?”
    “While the information I have would most certainly be classified as a solid lead in any investigative circle, it’s definitely no slam dunk. It’s more of an educated hunch.”
    “A hunch? You flew me to New York City on a hunch?”
    “An educated hunch,” Finn said, smiling sheepishly. “I’m sorry if I lead you to believe otherwise, but before you lose too much faith, take a look at my notes and decide for yourself.”
    When Finn finished his explanation Andria was enamored; his intuition, at least in this case, bordered on genius.
    “Touché, Mr. Winters,” she said. “I’ll have to admit, this definitely looks convincing on paper. I just may need to buy your dinner to show my