“You know, I’m not really in the mood for surprises. I have had the longest two days in history.”
He smiled slowly. Abby realized she was getting to like that smile; she was even coming to understand his strange ways. He could be unerringly polite, especially when someone else was acting like an idiot, and manage to get what he needed. He gave information out, but held on to what he felt he needed. Close to him, alone down in the magazine, she was aware of how attractive he was. Old-fashioned courtesy, combined with rugged masculinity, would make him appealing to most women.
Maybe she was one of them.
She stepped back. She tried to remind herself that he’d made a fool of her a few times, and yet...he’d seemed so puzzled that she’d felt that way.
“I’ll talk to David as we leave. Let’s get back to the Dragonslayer.” He looked at his watch. “It’s after nine now. I’m ready for that drink Dirk suggested. And I won’t be driving to my hotel. I can easily walk, but I won’t have to. I’m sure I can catch a ride.”
“Malachi!”
They heard his name shouted. He stepped past her and hurried up to the deck. As she followed him, he turned back for her, helping her make the hop-over to the dock. David was at the gate with a five-man crew of investigators, and they walked down to meet him, opening the gate to allow them all entrance before handing him the key.
“Anything?” David asked.
“No blood or guts,” Malachi said, waiting until David’s team went by.
When they had, he said, “We found a map. May or may not have been Helen’s.” He produced it and showed David. “You might want a man or two to check out the area.”
“That’s the middle of a sidewalk.”
“So Abby told me. But it is marked on the map,” Malachi said. “Okay if I hang on to this?” When David nodded, he folded it, returning it to his pocket.
“There may be something in the area—a restaurant, someplace Helen might’ve gone to meet someone,” Abby explained. “And, actually, it could have been anyone’s map, but since we’re grasping at straws here...”
She let her voice fade. David shook his head, lowering it. “Yeah. We are grasping at straws, but we need to grasp quickly.”
“That’s why I suggested searching the Black Swan—tonight,” Malachi said.
“But then you beat me to it.”
“We haven’t got the forensic talents to find what your crew might,” Malachi told him. “We just did a run-through. After all, we already spent hours on the ship.”
“Hmm. I’m reconsidering the map. How about handing it over?” David asked.
Malachi smiled serenely. “What map? Do you have a map, Abby? Did I mention a map? Lousy memory,” he said.
David looked at Abby. She looked at Malachi, who guilelessly returned her stare.
“I don’t have a map,” she said.
David groaned. “Yeah, okay. You hold on to it, Malachi. See what vibes or whatever it gives you.” He wagged a finger. “You should be grateful, my freelancing friend, that I’ve seen you in action before and that I’m willing to turn a blind eye to the way you ignore procedure. So, X marks the spot. I’ll send a car tonight. And they’ll call me and say that I sent them to stare at the middle of a sidewalk.”
“Probably. But it’s worth a shot, right? Call me if there’s anything.”
“Yes, I will,” David said. “And you do the same.”
“Let’s go back to the Dragonslayer, Abby,” Malachi suggested. “Let the detective get on with his work.”
As they headed to the tavern, David called after him. “Don’t forget. Call if you discover anything!”
“You know it,” Malachi called back.
He kept walking; he had long strides, but Abby kept up with him. “Are you running for that drink you said you need?” she asked.
“What? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking.”
“Yes?”
“We should call your friend. The tour-guide-slash-mapmaker, Roger English. It’s his map Helen had.”
“You can pick up that map at any souvenir store in the city.”
“Still, it’s his map. We’ll have him show us around the city.”
“I know the city!”
“You said you didn’t know it like he does.”
“True,” she agreed. “Roger’s always been a fanatic, obsessed with the city.” She smiled. “Gus occasionally let him stay at the Dragonslayer, just because he loved it so much.”
“Can you call him?”
“Of course, but I might not need to. He hangs around the Dragonslayer after his tours sometimes. They end around nine.”
“Good.”
Malachi opened the door to the tavern for her. Once they’d stepped inside, he walked up to Grant Green, on duty at the host stand as night manager. Trying to keep an eye on him, Abby went to the bar where Dirk was, as usual, seated between his two old friends, Bootsie and Aldous.
“Anything?” he asked her anxiously.
“Not that we could find, Dirk, but the police are there now.”
“Yes, I told Detective Caswell that I was happy for him to search,” Dirk said.