“It’s the investigation.” Paulie grinned at her. “I got everything before you decided to jump Sandy’s desk and get Joe to take an unhealthy interest in us.”

“But that’s stealing!” Miriam ended on a squeak.

“And what do you call what they did to your job?” Paulette asked dryly. “I call this insurance.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh. I don’t think they know about it—otherwise we’d be in way deeper shit already. Still, you should find somewhere to hide it until we need it.”

Miriam looked at the disk as if it had turned into a snake. “Yeah, I can do that.” She drained her glass, then picked up the disk and carried it over to the stereo. “Gotcha.” She pulled a multidisk CD case from the shelf, opened it, and slid the extra disk inside. “The Beggar’s Opera. Think you can remember that?”

“Oh! Why didn’t I think of doing that?”

“Because.” Miriam grinned at her. “Why didn’t I think of burning that disk in the first place?”

“We each need a spare brain.” Paulette stared at her. “Listen, that’s problem number one. What about problem number two? This crazy shit from another world. What were you messing around with it for?”

Miriam shrugged. “I had some idea that I could hide from the money laundry over there,” she said slowly. “Also, to tell the truth, I wanted someone else to tell me I wasn’t going crazy. But going totally medieval isn’t going to answer my problem, is it?”

“I wouldn’t say so.” Paulette put her glass down, half-empty. “Where were we? Oh yeah. You cross over to the other side, wherever that is, and you wander over to where your bank’s basement is, then you cross back again. What do you think happens?”

“I come out in a bank vault.” Miriam pondered. “They’re wired inside, aren’t they? After my first trip I was a total casualty, babe. I mean, projectile vomiting—” she paused, embarrassed. “A fine bank robber I’d make!”

“There is that,” said Paulette. “But you’re not thinking it through. What happens when the alarm goes off?”

“Well. Either I go back out again too fast and risk an aneurism or…” Miriam trailed off. “The cops show and arrest me.”

“And what happens after they arrest you?”

“Well, assuming they don’t shoot first and ask questions later, they cuff me, read me my rights, and haul me off to the station. Then book me in and stick me in a cell.”

“And then?” Paulette rolled her eyes at Miriam’s slow uptake.

“Why, I call my lawyer—” Miriam stopped, eyes unfocused. “No, they’d take my locket,” she said slowly.