They sat at the table, lit starkly by the bare bulb overhead. Between them the deck of tarot cards. Two cards face up; three of swords, romantic betrayal, five of swords, victory through deceit. The last card, face down. Licking her dry lips she reached out, flipped the last card

Jerry glanced down at the photograph in his hand, then back up again at the woman sitting alone at the back of the cafe.