“What was the name?”

“It wasn’t Archibald.”

“You don’t want to say? I don’t blame you. You seen a photo?”

Keller shook his head. The man drew a small envelope from his inside pocket, retrieved a card from it. The card’s face displayed a family photograph, a man, a woman, two children and a dog. The humans were all smiling, and looked as though they’d been smiling for days, waiting for someone to figure out how to work the camera. The dog, a golden retriever, wasn’t smiling, but he looked happy enough. “Season’s Greetings…” it said below the photo.

Keller opened the card. He read: “… from the Hirschhorns-Walt, Betsy, Jason, Tamara, and Powhatan.”

“I guess Powhatan’s the dog,” he said.

“Powhatan? What’s that, an Indian name?”

“Pocahontas’s father.”

“Unusual name for a dog.”

“It’s a fairly unusual name for a human being,” Keller said. “As far as I know it’s only been used once. Was this the only picture they could come up with?”

“What’s the matter with it? Nice clear shot, and I’m here to tell you it looks just like the man.”

“Nice that you could get them to pose for you.”

“It’s from a Christmas card. Musta been taken during the summer, though. How they’re dressed, and the background. You know where I bet this was taken? He’s got a summer place out by McNeely Lake.”

Wherever that was.

“So it woulda been taken in the summer, which’d make it what, fifteen months old? He still looks the same, so what’s the problem?”

“It shows the whole family.”

“Right,” the man said. “Oh, I see where you’re going. No, it’s just him, Walter Hirschhorn. Just the man himself.”

That was Keller’s understanding, but it was good to have it confirmed. Still, he’d have been happier with a solo headshot of Hirschhorn, eyes narrowed and mouth set in a line. Not surrounded by his nearest and dearest, all of them with fixed smiles.

He didn’t much like the way this felt. Hadn’t liked it since he walked off the plane.