The overlocker took them most of the rest of the day to figure out, and it nearly drove Paulette to distraction when she came home from the errand she’d been running to find Miriam oiling a bicycle in the hall and Brill puzzling out the manual for an industrial sewing machine and a bunch of costume patterns Miriam had bought. “You’re turning my house into an asylum!” she accused Miriam, after kicking her shoes off.

“Yeah, I am. How’s the office hunt going?”

“Badly,” snapped Paulette. Her voice changed: “Offices, oy, have we got offices! You should see our offices, such wonderful offices you have never imagined! By the way, how long have you been in business? There’ll be a deposit if it’s less than two years.”

“Uh-huh.” Miriam nodded. “How big a deposit?”

“Six months rent,” Paulie swallowed. “For two thousand square feet with a loading bay and a thousand feet of office above it, that comes to about thirty thousand bucks. Plus municipal tax, sewer, electric and gas. And the broadband you want.”

“Hmm.” Miriam nodded to herself, then hit the quick-release bolts. The bike folded in on itself like an intricate origami sculpture and she locked it down in its most compact position, then eased the carrying case over it.

“Hey, that’s real neat,” Paulette said admiringly. “You turning into a fitness freak in your old age?”

“Don’t change the subject.” Miriam grunted, then upended the case and zipped it shut. Folded, the bike was a beast. She could get the thing comfortably on her back but would be hard put to carry anything else. Hmm.

“Back in a minute.” She shouldered the bike pack and marched to the back door that opened on Paulette’s yard. “Here goes nothing,” she muttered, and pulled out her locket.

Half an hour later she was back without the bike, staggering slightly, shivering with cold, and rubbing her sore forehead. “Oh, I really don’t need to do that so fast,” she groaned.

“If you will do that with no preparation—” Paulette began to say waspishly.

“No, no.” Miriam waved her away. “I took my pills, boss, honest. It’s just really cold over there.”

“Where did you stash it?” Paulie asked practically.

“Where your back wall is, over on the other side, where there’s nothing but forest. Brrr. Up against a tree, I cut a gash in the bark.” She brandished her knife. “Won’t be hard to find if we go over from here: Main thing will be walking to the road, the nearest one is about half a mile away. Better go in the morning.”

“Right,” Paulette said skeptically. “About the rent.”