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I scouted out a small table at the far side of the room while Derek went to the bar. He came back with two healthy shots of Scotch and a small pitcher of water.

He held up his glass and I clinked mine against it. I took a sip and let the heat trickle down my throat, warming my insides all the way to my stomach.

“Better?” he asked.

“Not yet,” I said, and took another sip, and felt the warmth slide down my throat. I put my glass down on the table and sat back. “Getting there.”

Derek poured several drops of water into my glass. I took another sip and savored the subtle change in flavor.

“Even better,” I admitted. “Thanks.”

“Good.” He sat back in his chair and studied me as he sipped his Scotch.

“Oh, crap,” I said, smacking my hand on the table and squeezing my eyes shut.

“Now what?”

I shook my head in disbelief. “I completely forgot to tell him about Perry.”

“Perry?”

I glanced around the room, then related an abbreviated version of the Robert Burns story. I told him that Kyle had shown the book to three people. The only one I knew for sure was Perry.

“This man Perry is a prime suspect,” he said. “How could you forget to mention it?”

I rubbed my forehead. “I started to but we were interrupted. Then I dropped the ball. Maybe the sight of that bloody hammer caused my brain to empty.”

He shook his head. “Only you.”

“I know.”

I pulled MacLeod’s business card out of my pocket. “It’s late. Maybe I should wait until tomorrow.”

Derek checked his wristwatch. “Call him now.”

I sighed and dialed the number. When MacLeod answered, I told him everything Kyle had said about Perry. I also remembered to mention the poison-pen letters Kyle had told me about. Unfortunately, he’d thrown them away, but you never knew what might help the investigation. He thanked me and promised we’d talk again tomorrow.

I disconnected the call, then noticed Derek staring at me so intently, I began to squirm. “What is it?”

He smiled. “It occurs to me that you owe me a boon for your freedom.”

“I don’t owe you a boon.”

“Of course you do.”

“Hey, what’s a boon, anyway?”

“That’s for me to decide.”

“I don’t think so,” I said, then blurted, “Maybe you should just go home to your little family.”

“My what?”

“You don’t have to pretend with me.” Now that I’d opened the can of worms, far be it from me to shut up about it. “I saw you outside Heathrow this morning, getting into a Jaguar with a very pretty woman and her small child who looked just like you, Dad.”

He looked puzzled, then thoughtful. Then he chuckled. “Oh, that’s rich.”

He laughed a little more.

“It’s not funny.”

“No, it’s hilarious,” he said, and barked out another laugh.

“Oh, stop it,” I said grumpily.

He grinned at me. “Where the hell were you? Why didn’t you say hello?”

“Oh, and when would I have done that? When you were hugging your wife? Or maybe when you were laying a big fat wet one on her lips? Or maybe when you were cooing at your little baby who, I repeat, looks remarkably like you, God help him?”

“He is the handsome lad, isn’t he?” he said with a chuckle.

“Oh, whatever.”

He laughed again. “A big fat wet one?”

“I should go now.” I took one last sip, then pushed my chair back.

He grabbed my hand to keep me seated. “You silly git, that wasn’t my wife and baby.”

“I’m a silly git now?” I said, my voice rising. “Git. What does that mean, anyway? Some kind of feeble-brained nutball or something? That’s real nice.”

I tried to stand but he clutched my arm tightly to hold me down.

“It means you’re wrong, love.”

“Yeah, yeah. Doesn’t matter. It’s been a long day. I should-”

“No.”

“Yes, really, I’ve hit my quota of humiliating moments for the day.” I managed to stand. “Thanks for vouching for me earlier. I appreciate not having to spend the night in a cold jail cell. Good night. Sweet dreams. Ciao.”

He stood, too, and blocked my escape. “You’re jealous.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I’m delighted.”

“And I live to delight you.” I turned and walked out of the pub.

He caught up and took hold of my arm. “Listen to me, those people are not my-”

“ Brooklyn, is that you?”

I turned at the sound of my name. “What? Oh. Hi, Helen.”

Ignoring Derek, she threw her arms around me. “I’m so glad the police let you go.”

“Well, of course they let me go,” I said with a nervous laugh as I pulled away. “What did you think?”

“But I saw you leave with that detective,” she said, wringing her hands. “Nobody’s seen you for hours. I was so afraid they’d arrested you. I don’t know what I would’ve done if-”

“I’m fine,” I said, rubbing her arm consolingly. The woman was turning into a basket case. “Helen, this is Derek Stone. Commander Stone, this is my friend, Helen Chin.”

He frowned at me, then turned to Helen and smiled politely. “How do you do?”

“Oh. H-hello, er, nice to meet you, Commander,” she said, her eyes wide, clearly intimidated by Derek. She looked back at me. “Please say you’re free for breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“Okay. Sure.”

“I can meet you at the concierge desk at eight or eight thirty.”

“Can we make it nine?” I asked, desperate for all the sleep I could get.

“Yes, of course,” she said. “Thanks. I’ll meet you at the concierge desk at nine.”

She cast one last anxious look at Derek, then said good night.

Derek turned to me. “What was that all about?”

“What do you mean?”

“Commander Stone? You’ve never called me that.”

“That is your title, isn’t it? And it was kind of weird how she reacted, don’t you think?”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

He pulled me to a quiet corner so nobody could overhear us. “Don’t tell me you suspect that tiny woman is capable of bludgeoning a man of Kyle McVee’s height and weight.”

“Of course I don’t suspect Helen, but I’m no more capable of bludgeoning Kyle than she is. So why am I number one on the suspect list?”

“I’m sure you’re not.”

“I would appreciate your putting a little more enthusiasm into that.”

“I’ll talk to Angus.”

“Thank you.”

“And just to be clear, your friend Helen is not on your imaginary list of murder suspects. Correct?”

“Absolutely.” I folded my arms across my chest. “There’s no way I would suspect her of murder.”

“Honestly?”

I fudged. “Well, I guess anyone is capable of murder under the right circumstances.”

“Here we go,” he said.

“Okay, no,” I whispered. “Of course not. I would never suspect Helen of killing a fly, let alone another human being.”

“Then why’d you pull the ‘commander’ nonsense?”

“I don’t know.” That wasn’t entirely true, so I started over. “I wanted to see her reaction. I’m tired of being the first one accused of murder once again. I know I didn’t do it, but that doesn’t mean MacLeod will listen to me. So it’s in my best interests to figure out who might’ve done it before the police toss me in the dungeon and throw away the key.”

“That won’t happen,” he said firmly.

“Easy for you to say,” I muttered. “Look, Helen thought Kyle was going to marry her. What if she brought up the subject and he laughed in her face? Maybe he’d just broken up with her. Maybe she saw him with me and it pushed her to the edge of insanity and she couldn’t take it anymore, so she broke into my room and stole my tools. Or maybe she… are you listening to me?”

He was gazing upward, toward heaven, I supposed, as though praying for divine intervention.