“I thought it was weird that I could hear Phoebe’s watch ticking slowly,” I muttered.

I thought quickly—which fortunately I was now able to do— and worked my movements backward. I’d struggled to get into the Daimler at the Substation Hotel, so I was real me then. I could remember arriving at the secure entrance at the near of the library, then walking through the building to the front office and riding up the elevators. Real Me was somewhere between those places—in a store cupboard, I hoped, and more comfortable this time. I called Landen and told him what had happened.

“It wasn’t unexpected,” he said after a moment or two of reflection. “Do you want me to come and kill you again?”

“That’s very sweet of you, darling, but I need to make sure real me is safe. The password was ‘has to be there overnight’ after you say, ‘When it absolutely, positively.’”

Landen was silent for a moment. “You didn’t have to tell me you’d been replaced, did you?”

“I needed you to know you could trust me.”

“Okay, now I trust you—whatever body you happen to be in.”

“Thank you, pumpkin. Have the car in the loading bay at lunchtime so we can bundle Real Me in the back. And, Landen?”

“Yes?”

“I’m having those feelings again.”

“There’s nothing you can do about them, so just think of something else until we put an end to you and we can have you back.”

“I’m not going to get rid of this me. Not yet.”

There was another long silence from Landen. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I hope so, too, but I’m not offering any guarantees.”

“That’s my girl.”

He rang off, and I turned to Duffy, who had the largest frown I have ever seen etched in the forehead of anyone, before or since.

“Okay,” he said in a resigned manner, “now are we ready for the Goliath rep?”

I jumped up and glanced in the mirror behind the desk. I looked sickeningly well, and I wanted Lupton to think I was the real, damaged me. He knew about the contents of the Tupperware sarcophagus, and his knowing I was a Thursday Day Player was the sort of interest I didn’t want right now.

“I’m going to need a walking stick, a red felt marker and a box of Band-Aids—and you’re going to have to be quick.”

“Certainly, ma’am. But I must say I’m concerned. Your behavior seems somewhat . . . erratic.”

“Ha!” I said with a grin. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

22. Wednesday: Goliath

22.

Wednesday: Goliath