“Yeah.” Carter stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray. Except we didn’t have an ashtray. The smell of burning wood rose from the surface of Tim’s desk. “I’m a writer, Mr. Diamond. You may have read some of my books.”

That was unlikely—unless he wrote children’s books. Tim had recently started Lemony Snickett for the fourth time.

“I’m pretty well known in the States,” Carter continued. “The Big Bullet. Death in the Afternoon. Rivers of Blood. Those are some of my titles.”

“Romances?” Tim asked.

“No. They’re crime novels. I’m successful. I make a ton of money out of my writing—but, you know, I believe in sharing it around. I’m not married. I don’t have kids. So I give it to charity. All sorts of charities. Mostly back home in the States, of course, but also in other parts of the world.”

I wondered if he’d like to make a donation to the bankrupt brothers of dumb detectives, a little charity of my own. But I didn’t say anything.

“Now, a couple of years back I heard of a charity operating here in England,” he went on. “It was called Dream Time and I kind of liked the sound of it. Dream Time was there to help kids get more out of life. It bought computers and books and special equipment for schools. It also bought schools. It helped train kids who wanted to get into sports. Or who wanted to paint. Or who had never traveled.” Carter glanced at me. “How old are you, son?” he asked.

“Thirteen,” I said.

“I bet you make wishes sometimes.”

“Yes. But unfortunately Tim is still here.”

“Dream Time would help you. They make wishes come true.” Carter reached into his pocket and took out a hip flask. He unscrewed it and threw it back. It seemed to do him good. “A little Scotch,” he explained.

“I thought you were American,” Tim said.

“I gave Dream Time two million dollars of my money because I believed in them!” Carter exclaimed. “Most of all, I believed in the man behind Dream Time. He was a saint. He was a lovely guy. His name was Lenny Smile.”

I noticed that Carter was talking about Smile in the past tense. I was beginning to see the way this conversation might be going.