Bamboo Style

Same principle as the fortune cookie or an engraved beer mug.” “Know where the pipe was made?” “See the way the symbols line up vertically along the bamboo stem? That’s Shanghai style, circa 1919.” “Really?” “Could be. Or a copy. Can’t tell. Been used a lot, though.” “Smoke?” “Thanks. But not right now. I was okay with the fuzzwine-” Constance dredged the dripping magnum of Dom Perignon champagne from within the ballast of the silver ice bucket. She shot some froth down her gullet. Passed the deep-greeen oversized bottle to Griffith’s waiting fingertips as he sat in a wobbly chair across from her. Their hands touched. Constance grinned like a gunman. Edgy and tough. “How’s the investigative front, Griffith? Is that horseshit I see decorating the soles of your deck shoes?” “Just now took a canter across the polo field.” “Anything show up?” “No more than what you see on my shoes.” “Any luck elsewhere?” “After my chat with your assistant Morrigana, she was eager to tour me through Charity House. Plenty of places to hide-but no pearlies.” “Surprised?” “Not at all.” “Your clothes look rather damp-uncomfortably so, if I do say, Griffith ...»