Confess, Fletch

Ten

As it was late (and as Fletch had just discovered he was apparently invisible in a restaurant, anyway) he did not go out to dinner. Tiredly, he searched the kitchen cupboards and came up with a can of hash.

The telephone rang three times while he fed himself.

The first, while he was working the can opener, was a cable from Cagna.

“Connors nice hurt man. Nothing new on father. Much love—Andy.”

So Connors was in Italy. Nice, hurt at this moment were irrelevant. He was definitely in Italy.