I sat back, fingers laced behind my head. If Bent Sigurdsen said he'd get back to me, he would. Good thing, too. The Star doesn't lock the file on a stiff unless it's something really out of the ordinary. I considered getting on the line to my eastern Mr. Johnson with a status report, then thought better of it. He could wait until I had the answers to a few more questions. Mi Long sure wasn't going anywhere.