When you write something over a long period of time and don't have a chance to go back and edit/revise, you create quite a few consistency problems (content, tone) and pacing is a real challenge! This has certainly been a learning experience . . .

Sonny Corinthos' funeral was arranged for the next day. His body had finally been released by the coroner, and his family had made elaborate preparations for its internment: a large funeral mass at the cathedral, burial at the most exclusive cemetery just outside of Port Charles (in a plot on the top of a hill with a view of the city skyline), and a "celebration of his life" at the ballroom of the Metro Court Hotel. Attendance at the mass and celebration was by invitation only. At Dante Falconeri's request, and to avoid potential further violence, Anna had arranged for a visible police presence at each of the venues. She'd also arranged for detectives in unmarked cars to stake-out the various gatherings, cameras at the ready. She wanted to know everyone who attended the funeral or tried to attend the funeral. She needed to know who was in league with whom. She'd know better in twenty-four hours once all the information was in.

In contrast, Shawn Butler's funeral, the day before, had been small, attended only by his nephew and a few close friends. The other two murder victims remained in the morgue; no one had collected their bodies on release. Anna suspected that they would eventually be buried without fanfare at the state's expense. The fates of the four bodies, she thought bitterly, illustrated better than anything society's differing treatment of innocent victims, minor criminals, and crime bosses. The first two were largely disdained while the latter were feted and lauded.

Anna fidgeted at her desk. It was only 9:30 in the morning; the funeral was scheduled to start at 2:00 and the gathering would continue well into the evening. All she could do now was wait.

Gino Giordano woke at his usual time. He got up, took a leisurely shower, ate his usual breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast. He knew it might kill him; his father had died of a heart attack at sixty-two. But Gino hoped his exercise regimen was in some way protective and that he might squeeze a few more years out of his life. At least he didn't smoke like his father, who'd burned through two packs of cigarettes a day, frequently chased with a luscious Cuban just before bed. Gino didn't even smoke after sex any more, and only indulged in the odd cigar, usually to mark some important event: the birth of a baby, the death of a rival.

Giordano went to his closet and considered his choices. What to wear, he wondered. He decided on a smart dark grey suite and a conservative-blue tie.

An early riser, Mei Wu had been awake, showered, and dressed for hours. She sat sipping tea and watching the local news. She noted with some satisfaction that most of her business in Port Charles continued well under the radars of the local press and of the local police. But with more satisfaction, she realized that she could legitimately claim part in the most interesting and significant events reported during the newscast: the shootings of the previous week and Sonny Corinthos' funeral. Like an iceberg, most of her influence and effect lay hidden under the waterline, while one-tenth loomed spectacularly above, inspiring fear and awe.

She would be the iceberg today, a vision in white. Everyone would notice her but no one would truly understand the threat she presented. And if anyone came too close, she would tear him open from bow to stern.

At noon, Robert dropped by Anna's office with take-out from Kelly's. When he arrived, Anna and Rubin were deep in conference. Robert made as though to leave, but Anna waved him in. "We're just finishing up, Robert. Rubin and I could both use a break. Rubin, take lunch, but be back in forty-five, okay?"

Rubin nodded, gathered up his papers, and practically ran out of the room.

Robert grimaced. "The younger generation have no work ethic."

"Says the man," Anna teased, "who never arrives at the office before 10:00 in the morning."

"I work odd hours. But I put in my time."

"I know, I know," Anna sighed. "But I don't blame Rubin for wanting to bolt. Things have been tense around here lately. I've been tense. Corinthos' funeral is today. We're not sure what might happen."

Robert gave Anna a meaningful look. "You're staying away from the funeral, right? Because if you're not, I'm officially designating myself your escort."

Anna shook her head. "Unnecessary. I'll be in the office all day, feeling useless."

"Are you expecting something to go down?" Robert began unpacking their lunch.

"No idea. But whatever happens, we'll be watching carefully. That's all we can do right now: watch and wait."

Robert frowned. "You've never really been good at that, Luv."

Anna sat down, opened the lid of her coffee cup. "Neither have you. Do you still flip your pen around in that maddening way when you're on a stake-out?"

Robert smiled. "Wards off arthritis. Keeps the digits nimble."

Anna laughed. "Shut up and eat your lunch, old man. In two hours we'll start to receive intel. You might need your energy then."

Robert looked away from her, unwrapped his sandwich. "About that – I need to step away for a bit this afternoon. I shouldn't be gone for long. You can spare me, right?"

Anna watched him from the corner of her eye. "Of course. Don't worry about me. Does it have something to do with the Thompson case?"

Robert shook his head. "Nah – just personal stuff. It'll take an hour, tops."

Anna took a bite from her sandwich and thought, not for the first time, that Robert's worst trait as an agent was and always had been his inability to tell a convincing lie.

The first to arrive at the cathedral were members of Sonny's immediate family – Olivia Falconeri, Dante, Sonny's other sons, and his daughter. Then his ex-wives and ex-lovers appeared, careful to look fabulous in their "widow's" weeds. Brenda, having surveyed her surroundings, aimed a cutting look at Carly. Carly ignored Brenda and made a show of comforting her children, who were genuinely distraught. Alexis rolled her eyes and did what she could to avoid both while keeping a careful eye on her daughter Christina and offering her support.

The other guests who arrived by and large included the usual suspects: Sonny's known associates and friends in Port Charles as well as from New York. Luke Spencer was in attendance, his photograph taken, with all of the others', by a plainclothes detective parked across the street from the cathedral's main doors. Duke Lavery arrived and was photographed, his expression neutral. His attendance was noted by two men in dark coats who had arrived earlier that morning on the shuttle from New York. All three nodded at one another (another photograph preserved the moment) and entered the church in single file. Each presented an invitation (printed on fine white paper ringed with a black border) to the very large and very intimidating ushers stationed at the door. Inside, they were greeted by Dante on behalf of his mother. Too emotional, Olivia had excused herself and was waiting alone in the sacristy for the service to start.

Then a dark limousine pulled up. The driver stepped out, opened the passenger side door, and offered his arm to the person inside. It was lightly grasped by a gloved hand, and Mei Wu emerged, dressed in pure white: a sharply tailored jacket, a pencil skirt, and elegant white pumps. She stood on the sidewalk, not looking back but waiting. Gino Giordano rose up out of the car, tugged down and straightened his jacket, and moved to stand beside her. He offered her his arm, which she took, and together they ascended the staircase to the main entrance.

There, Giordano presented his invitation to the security duo at the door. They waved him into the cathedral.

Everything was, of course, recorded by the detective below in the car, who, though familiar with Sonny's known local associates, had absolutely no idea who Giordano and Wu might be.

Anna was parked in front of her computer screen. "We should start receiving images any minute now," she told Robert. "Are you sure you have to leave?"

He responded by putting on his coat. "Sorry, Luv, I've got to go. I won't be long. Promise me I'll find you here when I get back. If you need to leave for some reason – if something happens – call me. If I can pick up, I will. Leave me a message if I can't and I'll get back to you as soon as possible."

Anna looked unhappy. "And you promise to call me if something happens on your end. Be careful, Robert."

Robert smiled. "Like I said, nothing serious. Personal business. I'll be back in no time at all."

Dante, who had just finished talking briefly with Duke, turned to welcome the next guests in the queue. Not recognizing either of them, he smiled carefully and offered his hand to the man in the dark grey suit. "Thank you for coming," he said; "I'm Sonny's oldest son, Dante Falconeri. I don't think we've meet."

Giordano took his hand. "Gino Giordano," he replied; "and this is my very close friend Mei Wu." The handshake was warm; Anna had been careful not to share her suspicions with Dante, not before she had evidence. Wu didn't offer her hand but merely nodded. "My father Vito and Joe Scully were close friends," Giordano continued; "I met your father when we were both young men. We later became business associates and cooperated on a number of … initiatives. I was very sorry to hear about his death. You have my deepest condolences."

Dante nodded comprehension. They belonged to the mob, were members of his father's other family. The family Dante had rejected. For one day, though, Dante resolved, they would put aside their differences to honour his father's memory. "Thank you," he said.

Stephen was waiting for Robert when he arrived, sitting at the same table they'd met at weeks before. Arms resting on the table, his shoulders were slumped, and he looked troubled. Robert was aware that he was largely responsible for raising the spectre haunting the other man. Somehow Robert had to put it right, had to put Carolyn to rest again. He approached the table and sat down.

"Stephen," he nodded hello. "I'm sorry to involve you once again. Thanks for agreeing to meet me one more time."

Stephen shrugged. "It's okay. Anything I can do to help."

"Pardon my saying so, but you look like hell. Is everything okay?"

Stephen smiled wanly. "I'm fine. Thanks for asking. I'm just preoccupied." He paused, then continued hesitantly. "You know, I'd thought before that I hadn't really gotten over Carolyn's death. But it wasn't true; I had, at least to a certain extent. I guess with time everything actually does become less painful. You're reminded less and less and learn to block things out. Now, since the police reopened Carolyn's case, I think about her all the time. I can't concentrate on anything else; I keep seeing her face. I feel nauseous, the way I did when she first went missing. My life feels suspended again. I feel like I'm living in the past."

Robert folded his hands on the table. "I know it isn't any consolation, Stephen, but I do understand what you're going through. And I promise you again that I'll do everything in my power to find out what happened to your wife. But before I can do that, I need to ask you a few more questions, and I need to see those photographs I asked you for."

Stephen pulled an envelope from his satchel and pushed it across the table to Robert. "These are the photos I showed you originally plus the others you requested. I'm not sure why you need these pictures in particular."

Robert opened the envelope and quickly flipped through the photos he'd already seen. What he really wanted to study were additional pictures of Elizabeth and Carolyn. "I can't explain just yet. I'm working on a hunch that may be incorrect, and I don't want to share anything in case I'm wrong." Robert reached the first of the new pictures he'd asked to see. "Are these in chronological order?"

Stephen nodded. "Yeah, just what you asked for. The first photo is of Elizabeth and me after our first year of university. It was 1981."

Robert studied it. Elizabeth was dressed in a flowing shift dress; her hair was shoulder-length and feathered; she wore roman sandals that tied up around her calves. He flipped to the next photograph.

Stephen explained, unprompted. "This was after graduation, my first degree. So that would have been the spring of 1984." Elizabeth was dressed in a purple jumpsuit with a wide black belt and ankle boots. Her hair was the same length, but now her bangs were wildly-curled.

The next photograph: "Elizabeth and I didn't see each other for a few years. I went to grad school out west; she travelled around Europe for awhile before going back to school. The next time we met up was 1991, I think. I was travelling for business and we happened to be in the same city at the same time." Stephen and Elizabeth were standing with their arms somewhat awkwardly wrapped around each other in front of a large and ornately decorated fountain. Robert didn't recognize the location. Elizabeth was dressed in ripped jeans and in a mannish, over-sized suit jacket rolled up at the wrists. Her hair was much shorter and cut in a complicated asymmetrical design.

Robert flipped to the next picture. Stephen cleared his throat. "This is the first time Carolyn and Elizabeth met. It was 1992." The three were seated together at a restaurant table, Carolyn and Stephen on the one side, Elizabeth on the other. Carolyn was partly hidden behind Stephen; she seemed to be wearing a floral print dress. Elizabeth, on the other hand, was wearing a bright abstract print blazer over black pants; her hair was cut short and aggressively styled, tufted out in various directions.

"Carolyn and I moved to Port Charles in 1995. Elizabeth was in New York and we saw her more often. This is a photo from '96 or '97. She'd just started dating Alan then. This was taken when we went out for drinks after seeing a show in the city." In the photograph, Carolyn was much more visible. Her eyes were shut – she must have blinked at just the wrong moment. She was laughing. Her dark hair was longer than before and gathered back in a simple ponytail. She was dressed in a longer skirt and over-sized sweater, both tan. Robert thought again how much she reminded him of Anna. Elizabeth sat across from her, her blond hair no longer short. It was now below her shoulders and one length. She was wearing linen pants and a linen jacket, both a faded blue. She was smiling, but to Robert her expression seemed forced. Stephen and Alan looked into the camera, but Elizabeth's eyes were trained off slightly to the right.

"The next is the last photograph I have, and you've seen it before. It's the picture of Carolyn and Elizabeth when we were on vacation."

Robert looked at it again: the two women embracing, their long hair blowing in the wind, both in sun dresses, both tipsy and relaxed, both wearing exactly the same smile. When he'd first seen the picture, Robert had originally thought them opposites, distracted by the differences in height, body type, and colouring. He'd failed to notice the many, now disturbing, similarities between the two women. In hindsight, in some ways they seemed mirror images.

Robert cleared his throat. "It's odd," he remarked, making a careful attempt at nonchalance, "in the early photographs, Elizabeth and Carolyn seem to have very different sensibilities and styles. But in this photo, they have the same haircut and almost the same clothes."

Stephen smiled. "Yeah. Carolyn and I talked about it more than once, that Elizabeth had started wearing the same kinds of things and was letting her hair grow out. You have to understand: Carolyn prided herself on being less of a slave to fashion than Elizabeth was. Carolyn liked to be a bit unique, you know? She bought organic cotton, tried to buy fair trade stuff, that kind of thing. Then Elizabeth started doing the same. To be honest, Carolyn was a bit miffed, thought Elizabeth wasn't doing it because she'd suddenly developed a social conscience but for some other reason."

Stephen shifted in his seat. "But to be fair, I noticed other changes in Elizabeth. She became a bit less – how to say it – assertive. Or maybe aggressive is the better word. Anyway, she was nicer to everyone, more considerate. We got along a lot better, and at about the same time Elizabeth met Alan, who I thought was really good for her. So I told Carolyn that I thought she was being a bit petty, that she shouldn't be so resentful of the changes she saw in Elizabeth. In fact, I told Carolyn that I thought she'd been a good influence, that I was grateful to her for softening some of Elizabeth's hard edges. And I suggested that instead of being upset she should really be flattered. After all, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, right? "

Robert stared at the photograph. He suddenly noticed the necklace around Carolyn's neck. "Do you remember this piece of jewelry, Stephen? It's striking."

Stephen leaned over, looked. "I gave that to her for our second wedding anniversary."

Robert looked up. "Do you think I could keep this photograph for a few days?"

Stephen nodded again. "I won't ask you why. But I hope you can tell me soon."

Images of the guests at the funeral began to flash up onto Anna's screen. She stretched her right shoulder up until she heard a crack, rounded her spine, and curled back into her chair. She scanned thumbnails of the photographs from left to right. Family, friends, work associates were all recorded for posterity gradually filing into the cathedral. Anna leaned forward, grabbed a cup of tea from her desk, settled back again and began to sip. She did a mild double-take: was that a reporter from the WLPC news? The woman looked familiar. Anna flagged the photo and continued scanning. She noted two of her own men entering the building, close friends of Dante Falconeri. Anna flagged the images; their attendance at the funeral of a mob boss, even for good reason, had to be noted in their files.

More photographs. And then Anna's gaze froze on a single image. She clicked on the thumbnail, enlarged the picture. It was Giordano and Wu. Anna clicked off and looked at the entire sequence. Giordano and Wu approached the door to the cathedral and entered.

They'd been invited. Why in god's name had they been invited? What was their connection to Sonny Corinthos?

The first thing Anna did was pick up the office phone to order reinforcements dispatched to the cathedral, to the cemetery, and to the Metro Court.

The second thing Anna did was pick up her cell phone to call Robert.

Stephen had left the bar; Robert sat alone staring at the picture of Elizabeth and Carolyn. Although fashion history was not his forte, he suspected that, previous to meeting Carolyn Thompson, Elizabeth had been a dedicated follower of cutting-edge fashion. After, she had patterned herself on a woman who avoided fashion trends – or rather, followed fashion trends other than the mainstream. And Elizabeth hadn't just dressed like Carolyn. She had taken on the other woman's personality, gestures, behaviours.

Suddenly, at the exact same moment, two things happened. Robert's cell phone rang, and the door to the sports bar banged opened loudly. In an automatic response, drawn to identify the source of the louder sound, his eyes darted up; they locked on Elizabeth, who was standing and staring at him across the room. He then glanced down to the screen of his phone, moved to pick it up. Elizabeth sprang into action, strode across the room toward him, and ordered, "Let it go to voicemail, Robert. We have to talk."

"This might be an emergency." Robert took the phone in his hand. "If I don't answer, Anna will wonder why."

"I don't give a fuck," Elizabeth told him. She sat down in the chair opposite. "Why the hell haven't you been in touch with me since I gave you your file, and why did you meet with Stephen this afternoon? I thought I'd made myself clear: you need to back off, walk away, and let this case drop."

Robert didn't answer his phone, and so Anna left a message. "Robert, Giordano and Wu are at the funeral. I'm sending more officers to the venues, but I really feel I need to be on-site. The service has already started; I'm heading to the cemetery, and after that I'll head to the Metro Court. I promise I'll keep a safe and respectful distance, but I think it's important that the two of them know they're being watched, and very carefully. If you decide to join me, call me before you approach." She paused. "And if you don't, if you can't, at least make sure you call me to let me know you're all right."

Anna ended the call and began to suit up. She grabbed her holster and gun, forgot her vest, and was out the door.