I helped her hobble down the hall and into the bathroom. I dug some more towels out of the linen closet, then passed them into her through a mostly closed door. She locked it behind her and started the shower.

I shook my head and went back down the hall, dialing Father Vincent's phone number. On the fifth ring, he answered, his voice sounding tired and strained. "Vincent."

"It's Harry Dresden," I said. "I know where the Shroud came into Chicago and who was buying. It got intercepted by a third party and they have it now."

"You're certain?" Vincent demanded.

"Yeah."

"Do you know where it is?"

"Not exactly, but I'm going to find out. I should know by this evening, maybe sooner."

"Why will it take until this evening?" Vincent asked.

"Well, uh. It's a little hard to explain," I said.

"Perhaps the police should handle the rest of the investigation."

"I'd advise against it."

"Why?"

"I have some information that indicates your mistrust may not have been misplaced."

"Oh," Vincent said. His voice sounded worried. "I think we should meet and talk, Mister Dresden. I'd rather not discuss this over the phone. Two o'clock, at the room we spoke in last?"

"I can probably do that," I said.

"Until then," said Vincent, and hung up.

I paced back into the living room and found Susan sitting and reading the morning paper with coffee and a doughnut. One of the sliding glass doors that had previously led to the back patio was open, and on the other side was a lot of bare wood and plastic-the addition Michael was building. The rasping of a saw came through the open door.

I stepped out and found Father Forthill at work. He'd taken off his coat and collar. He had a short-sleeved black shirt underneath. He wore leather work gloves and safety glasses. He finished sawing a beam, and blew dust off the cut before rising. "How is Father Vincent?"

"Sounds tired," I said. "I'm going to talk to him later, assuming we don't have something going on first."

"I worry for him," Forthill said. He held up the beam to the top of what would eventually be a window. "Here, hold this for me."

I did. Forthill started driving in a few nails, clenching several in his teeth. "And Miss Valmont?"

"Taking a shower. She's going to cooperate with us."

Forthill frowned, taking a nail from his lips. "I really wouldn't have expected that from her, from the sense I had of her."

"It's my charming personality," I said. "The ladies can't resist."

"Mmmm," Forthill said, around the nails.

"It's the only decent thing to do. And her back is against a wall, right?"

Forthill drove the nail in and frowned. He looked at me.

I looked back at him for a moment and then said, "I'll just go check on her."