Sly flipped on the map light, examined the item. It was a synthleather wallet that was once light tan but now was stained dark with its owner’s blood. She flipped it open, glanced through the contents. Laminated hard-copy printouts of the personal drek found on anybody’s credstick—driver’s license, DocWagon contract, gun license, etcetera drek etcetera—all in the name of Lisa Steinbergen. Probably an alias, Sly thought.