The letter was refolded and neatly tucked into her pocket, but she had read it five, maybe six times before leaving for the station. Now, as she sat on the bench with the key in her hand, she imagined his distinctive voice in the words. There was no one to question her dreamlike gaze here. No concerned interruptions from Danny, or unruly suspects being dragged into the coffee room by Andy. So, Diane let herself drift into a strange reverie of meditation, savoring Harry's letter like a guilty pleasure and struggling to understand what he was trying to say.

It was the twelfth gong of the clock that finally broke through her spell. All of the voices and sounds of busy people going somewhere suddenly rushed in on her. She bit her lip and strained to see through the undulating masses of people toward the bank of lockers on the other side of the great room. Having no luck, Diane rose and made her way across the expanse.

The lockers were numbered, but the layout seemed to have no rhyme or reason. Walking back and forth and leaning down to read the small face plates, Diane searched for two thirteen. She managed to trace a pattern of numbers to one ninety-nine, but the next row started in the three hundreds and a very unladylike expletive shot out before she had a chance to swallow it.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" a tall station attendant offered as he peeked from around the corner.

"I half expect to find a minotaur in this labyrinth you've got here," she replied coarsely. Holding up her key to his eye level she added, "Does this number exist here, because I can't find it."

He squinted, and rubbed his jaw with his hand as he read her key, and then made a small noise which Diane took as a sign of recognition. "This way if you please," he said as he turned away from her. She followed him to a row of new lockers in one of the main halls, directly across from an aromatic and colorful flower stand. Bending down with obvious dedication to duty, he located her number and placed the key in the lock.

"NO!" she shouted, startling him. "I, uh...need a few moments." He looked at her dubiously. Diane tried to cover her nervous excitement by flipping out her badge. "It's police business. I'm not exactly sure what's in there. You may want to stand clear."

He slowly removed his hand from the key, still lodged in the lock, and crept backwards. She nodded and moved in, opening the locker with deliberate caution. She sighed dramatically as she glanced inside and turned back to the very nervous attendant saying, "Looks all right. Nothing but a few papers. Thanks for your help."

He smiled broadly and gave her a little satisfied wave, "Tsk! Just doin' my job. Glad to be of help." Diane watched and waved as he moved on, then thrust her hands into the locker to retrieve the single manila envelope.