That was when he noticed something unusual.
A narrow section of the bookcase moved.
The entire shelf was mounted on hidden hinges.
Behind it was a small concealed closet.
Inside hung three garment bags.
Two contained black suits.
The third contained the red one.
Pinned to it was a note bearing Eric’s name.
Mr. Lawson stared at him.
Then he asked one strange question.
“Did you check the pockets?”
Eric shook his head.
Mr. Lawson pulled us away from the other mourners and began examining the jacket.
The pockets were empty.
Then his fingers stopped over Eric’s chest.
He pressed the lining.
Something crackled underneath.
Mr. Lawson looked at us.
“Your father told me I would know when the time came.”
He opened his briefcase and removed a tiny pair of scissors.
I stared at him.
“Time for what?”
He didn’t answer.
He carefully cut several stitches in the jacket lining.
