I went back to my office to gather all my notes, run a razor over my chin and get a new tie. Harry's Thai sauce seemed to have found a home among the pattern of leaves. Garth Meadows, sergeant of detectives was sitting in front of my desk.

"How did you get in?"

"It was unlocked."

I stared at the door. How come I needed a key all the time. "What can I do for you, Detective?"

"You can tell me about Carlos Desmond."

"Who?" My armpits came on like a lawn sprinkler.

"Carlos Desmond, the man who supplied Luther Sloan who supplied Rodney Semple who is the killer of Luther Sloan and fiancé of Felicia Smythe-Frye and daughter of your client Bennett."

". . . Oh him . . . what about him?"

"Carlos was found in a post hole on the site of the new yacht club dry dock."

It wasn't exactly fishing but it was close to water. I felt Meadows' stare burning into my face.

"I uh, spoke to him after the Sloan shooting."

"Why?"

"Well it was just to see if there was more to- to Rodney's involvement than just uh- just buying some drugs."

"And what did you learn, Hart?"

"Nothing! Nothing at all. He clammed right up."

"So you stuck him in a post hole."

"Huh? What! No! How do you know I spoke to him anyway?"

Meadows' guttural laugh filled the office and he stood, pointing at me and shaking his head.

"You're so easy, Hart." I was too pumped and worried to reply. "We found your card on him."

"Aaah, yeah. I left it with him in case he changed his mind."

"You mentioned drugs, anything you want to tell me about your clients?"

"Privileged, Detective."

"Only if I don't beat it outta you."

"True, but that's not really you. Is it."

He snickered and walked to the door, pausing to give me his, wise in the ways of the world, weary cop look.

"Semple links your clients to Desmond, my friend. We'll be speaking again I think."

I cursed my office ceiling and wondered what else might crop up before this mess was untangled. All I had to do was deliver the necklace to Smyth-Frye and my job would have been done . . . except now Meadows was sure to find Desmond's connection to the Druids and straight back to me.

I did the things I came back to do then left . . . locking the door.

*******

"I don't understand. Why can't you just tell the cops what happened. They aren't going to get all worked up about your family's personal problems . . . other than Rodney . . . but that wasn't your family's fault." I watched Bennett put the necklace in his study desk. Guess he didn't want me following him to the bedroom. "You can bet they'll hear it from me if I get hung out to dry about the Druid's involvement."

Smythe-Frye poured himself a drink and studied me, sipping it.

"The police have already questioned my family and the necklace never came up. As far as they know the entire incident was simply drugs. I'm not an unreasonable man, Mr. Hart. I understand that it was Rodney's rather rash action that put us in the eyes of the police." He sipped a little more of his drink. "The problem now is preventing a similar rash act by yourself."

"I don't consider saving my neck a rash act, Bennett."

His face tensed at the informality. "Yet that is precisely what is at risk here."

"Let's stop beating around the bush, spit out whatever you have to say or I'm outta here."

Bennett finished his drink and set the glass down, carefully clasping his hands in front. "Smythe-Frye and Associates are one company audit away from financial ruin."

Look for a fastball you get a curve. I stared at him.

"I made a sizeable investment in a project that went belly up - details aren't important here. What is important is that I needed to sell that necklace to keep the company afloat. When I discovered it was gone I panicked."

I helped myself to a drink, unrestricted, and sat down.

"When I confronted Deborah I knew her surprise was a poorly performed lie but I wasn't sure. All I needed then was a domestic disaster on top of one with the business. I thought if it was Deborah and you could get it back . . . I kept questioning her and when I finally told her I needed it to save my company she came apart. She told me James Cord was making arrangements with the insurance people." He wagged his head helplessly. "I forgot the necklace and demanded to know what the hell she and Cord were doing behind my back." He sagged onto the corner of his desk and closed his eyes.

"So you knew that your wife had taken the necklace and that she was in an affair with your lawyer when you first came to me." I tossed back my drink and got up, setting the glass on his desk. Bennett looked chastened. "That was a hell of performance that day in your office then. All stunned and betrayed."

"It wasn't a performance . . . not all of it. I never knew about my daughter until that moment. I thought Rodney was trying to help my wife."

"Well it was Deborah and I did get it back, so what's the problem?"

"When James ended the negotiations with the insurance company because the necklace was really gone and they couldn't get it back, it queered any chance for me to make a claim. They would have had their noses up smelling a fishy wind. Besides, the window of opportunity is about to close."

"Okay but you said originally that you wanted to sell it to save your company. What's changed? Sell it now."

Bennett stood and walked to the window behind his desk. "Rodney had the lead on the buyer."

My mouth fell open. Did he really say that Rodney was arranging the sale? This was the most convoluted mixed up bag of Marx Brothers high jinks I had ever come across. Rodney actually defied Bennett and used the necklace to try and protect Felicia even to the point of murder!

"Ironic isn't it?" Bennett turned and sat on the window sill.

********

Verna wiped her mouth with the serviette and sighed. "Those turkey wraps are just heaven."

"Your favour wasn't bad either." I said, folding my arms behind my head on the pillow.

Her look was a resigned patience. Those eyes! My God those eyes!

"So your big case is all wrapped up?" She giggled at the pun.

"Seems so. Talk about a dog's breakfast. Bennett was going to sell the necklace to save his failing company. His wife took it and gave it to her lover to fake an insurance claim to pay for a drug debt she and her daughter got into. The daughter's fiancé tries to do the deal for them with the drug supplier and winds up killing him. And the capper is the fiancé was finding the buyer Bennett was going to sell to in the first place."

Verna shifted under the sheet to face me. "So now what, his company fails? Can't he still sell the necklace?"

"He said it was too late. The audit is taking place as we uhm- speak?" I rolled over to face her.

"You're going to go broke buying turkey wraps, Hart."

The first few bars of the Four Aces singing Heart of my Heart shattered the moment and I grabbed up my phone angrily.

"Yeah, what!" I listened silently with an incredulity matched only by the expression on my face.

"What?" Verna asked as I finally closed the phone.

"Felicia Smythe-Frye has been kidnapped."

"What?"

"The buyer Rodney found has decided he didn't like being stood up and he wants the necklace or a cash equivalent. Only now it's on his terms."

"Why did they call you? Why not go to the police this time, they have nothing to hide anymore?"

"Hang onto your turkey wrap, Verna, you ready for this? Bennett is still trying to save his company. He made a deal with Whitehouse Auctions for seventy-five percent of the appraised value. He doesn't have the necklace anymore and now he is procrastinating over whether or not to save his ass at Smythe-Frye and Associates or his daughter!"

"What?"

"If he calls in the police about Felicia, the audit will expose his investment blunder and that will be the end of the company as far as Bennett goes."

"But my God, it's his daughter!"

"Right, and for another five thou plus a successful conclusion bonus, he wants me to get her back without paying any ransom."

"You?"

"Hey, Verna. I'm not just good here, I've handled a few dicey cases in the past."

"Is that how you promote yourself to clients? You are good in the sack so you naturally can take on kidnappers?"

"You really think that?"

"Well you said it."

"I mean that I'm good in the sack?"

This time the pillow hurt and left a welt next to my eye.