She dialed a number and waited. A man’s voice answered after the first ring.

“It’s Sparks,” she said. “I need a largish favour.”

CHAPTER 10

Gwen approached Cecil with a dust rag.

“Hello, darling,” she said to the desk. “I’m going to clean you up. Be brave. I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

She wiped the dust off thoroughly, then patted the desk affectionately.

“You’ll hold me without making any rude comments, won’t you?” she cooed.

Then she sat on the newly cleaned surface, crossed her legs decorously, and sighed with content.

“You’re insane,” said their captive from the floor, where he lay trussed up.

“It’s been said before,” agreed Gwen, “and by people with more professional experience in that area than you have. And frankly, I’ve had a very long and trying day, the kind that would drive anyone to distraction, much less someone with such a tenuous grip on sanity as myself. So, here we are—you, the mystery assailant, tied up, lying on the floor, and me, the crazy lady, sitting on a desk. With your Mauser. Which is loaded. I checked.”

She picked it up from the desk where she had placed it.

“So perhaps,” she said, her voice rising to a shout, “given our relative positions, you might want to reconsider calling me names!”

She squeezed her eyes shut and took deep breaths until the pounding of her heart slowed to a normal pace. Then she opened her eyes, looked down at the man, placed the gun on her lap, and smiled.

He struggled for a moment against the ropes securing his hands and feet, then gave up. Gwen watched with interest.

“I wouldn’t do that anymore,” she advised him. “It might reopen the wounds on your hand. You made such a mess in our office, and we don’t want you bleeding all over this one, as it isn’t technically ours yet.”

She patted the desk again.

“But it will be soon, won’t it, Cecil?” she whispered.

“You demented—”

She grabbed the gun from her lap and pointed it at him, her grip rock steady.

“I’m glad that you’re in such a talkative mood,” she said. “Let’s have a little chat, shall we?”

“Hello, Archie,” said Iris as she opened the rear door to the building. “Thanks for coming.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t’ve missed this for the world,” said Archie as he came in.

He was back to full-on Archie apparel, wearing a charcoal gray suit with broad chalky stripes and a wide, garish purple tie. Behind him came two other members of the spiv fraternity.

“You know the lads?” asked Archie, jerking his thumb at them.

“I do.”

“Then forget ’em,” said Archie. “We don’t need anyone knowing anyone tonight. Where’s the guest of honour?”

“Upstairs. Follow me.”

She took them through the basement to the stairs, lighting their way with her torch. She turned it off when they reached the hallway by the front entrance.

“I’m afraid we’re on the top storey,” she said as she began the ascent.