e leaned against a metal filing cabinet. "No good, Mark. You know what a hell of a time we have tracking down relatives to give the money to, because these people don't leave wills. The few relatives we find are always surprised when they get their inheritance—most of them hardly remember dear old who-ever-it-was that died and left it to them. All the other estates eventually go to the State treasury, unclaimed."
"Well, it was an idea." I opened the oldest bankbook again. "Anybody ever think of testing the ink, Lou?"
"What for? The banks' records always check. These aren't forgeries, if that's what you're thinking."
"I don't know what I'm thinking," I admitted. "But I'd like to turn a chemist loose on this for a little while."
"Look, Mark, there's a lot I'm willing to do for you, and I think I've done plenty, but there's a limit—"
I let him explain why he couldn't let me borrow the book and then waited while he figured out how it could be done and did it. He was still grumbling when he helped me pick a chemist out of the telephone directory and went along to the lab with me.
"But don't get any wrong notions," he said on the way. "I have to protect State property, that's all, because I signed for it and I'm responsible."
"Sure, sure," I agreed, to humor him. "If you're not curious, why not just wait outside for me?"
He gave me one of those white-tooth grins that he had no right to deprive women audiences of. "I could do that, but I'd rather see you make a sap of yourself."