I haven’t hung out in Tick-Tick’s company for so long that she can’t, now and then, make me gape at her. “I would, would I?”

“You wouldn’t put it so. But indeed, my cabbage, our fine policeman’s actions don’t bear much scrutiny.” She sat down on the chair Linn had occupied and stretched her long legs out in front of her. “His partner has forbidden you to dabble further in this—the most probable reason being that she doesn’t care for the thought of waking up some morning and finding that all your recoverable parts can be stored in a space the size of a post office box. She, at least, recognizes the difference between choosing to risk her own life and choosing to suggest someone else risk his.”

“Now here’s Linn, who doubts his partner’s judgement. Instead of confronting her with his doubt, arguing the matter over with her, and abiding by the decision, he comes away in this furtive fashion to undermine what she has done. He does not hide from you that he doubts his partner. He does not want to accept responsibility for it if you defy Rico and continue the search. And he has offered you nothing but a share in his guilt. Your successes will be the hole-in-corner successes of the informer; your failures will be described as just what one would expect from an amateur; and your death, if it happens, will not be called a hero’s death but the sordid result of your own folly.”

The teakettle was working up to a good kazoo-like hum. I grinned down at Tick-Tick and eased myself off the window sill. “You’re pissed at him for reminding you you’re an elf.”

“You think I’m too hard on him?”

“Yeah.” I turned the gas off and peered into the teapot. “Are these leaves okay to use again?”

“Blessed Mab, they most certainly are not. You may be as slovenly as you like in your own house, but in mine you’ll make a decent pot of tea. Use the last of the Darjeeling.”

I scraped the old leaves into the compost, rinsed the pot with a little hot water from the kettle, and left the new leaves to steep before I returned to the question of Linn. “Okay, he’s running roughshod over a couple of my principles, but he’s doing it in the interests of the public good, at least. He wants to get this guy.”