I grabbed her arm as she dashed past me toward the bathroom. ‘‘Oh, no, you don’t. I know all about you and your three-hour-long baths. You’re not going to escape something unpleasant by hiding in the tub again.’’

‘‘I’m a naiad! I can’t help it if water makes me feel better.’’

‘‘You’re only going to make things worse if you don’t tell me everything,’’ I pointed out, releasing her arm to lean one hip against the low chest of drawers. ‘‘Go on, get it over with.’’

She sighed, her head lowered as she peeked up at me. ‘‘I’m . . . I’m being blackmailed.’’

‘‘Oh, Cy, not again!’’ I said. ‘‘I thought that after the last time—’’

‘‘This has nothing to do with that!’’ she said quickly. ‘‘Well . . . not so much. Really, it’s barely connected with the unfortunate incident.’’

‘‘You’re the only woman I know who could refer to the act of taking an aquarium hostage as an ‘unfortunate incident.’ How many fish did you kidnap this time?’’

‘‘I didn’t!’’ she protested, a righteous look on her face. ‘‘I promised you faithfully after that incident I wouldn’t try to free any more ocean mammals, and I haven’t, I swear I haven’t. It’s just that . . . I . . . we might have blown up a couple of helicopters and maybe two or three ships.’’

My jaw dropped a few inches as I stared at her. ‘‘You what?’’

‘‘They were baby-seal hunters!’’ she said, crossing her arms over her chest. ‘‘Horrible, evil, cruel people who wanted to go out and kill innocent, sweet, furry little baby seals.’’

‘‘Oh, my god,’’ I said, sliding down the chest of drawers to the floor. ‘‘How many people did you kill?’’

‘‘May!’’ she gasped, her face horrified. ‘‘No one! What sort of a person do you take me for? We bombed the helicopters and ships when they were empty.’’

‘‘Well, thank the twelve gods and all their little minions for small miracles,’’ I said, relaxing slightly. ‘‘I take it the ‘we’ you mentioned were your usual cohorts in crime?’’

She lifted her chin. ‘‘My fellow naiads and I only have the best interests of the planet at our hearts.’’

‘‘Uh-huh. So who’s blackmailing you?’’ I asked, willing to forgo a lecture on the impropriety of bombing things in order to get to the bottom of the situation.

‘‘I think it was one of the people at the fur processor. Last weekend when I was in London, I received a note saying that there was a film of myself and the other naiads at the airport in Nova Scotia, bombing the helicopters.’’

I groaned and rubbed my forehead.

‘‘The blackmailer said that unless I give him something, he’ll turn the tape and other evidence over to the mundane police.’’