Authors: Harold Robbins
The lawyer cleared his throat again as he handed me a manila envelope. “This is the contact information for the Colombian lawyer. I suppose that once you get this, uh, fire matter cleared up with your insurance company, you can decide what you want to do about your inheritance.”
“Insurance company?” I began laughing, not with humor but the sort of hysterical laugh I’d give if my doctor told me that he had amputated the wrong leg.
That vitally important document in the cash box I couldn’t find in the rubble was the overdue payment on my insurance policy.