Dagger Magic

"I practically had to sign my life away, but at least we're semiofficial," he said brusquely at Peregrine's look of inquiry. "I also got the map coordinates on the stretch of coast where Scanlan and his mate went missing. What's going on?"

Before the artist could respond, Adam leaned out of the car and offered McLeod the cell phone.

"Why are you giving this to me?" McLeod muttered, adding fatalistically, "Don't tell me, let me guess: You want me to call Jane and tell her I'm not coming home tonight."

"Right the first time, I'm afraid," Adam said, "but I'll tell you what I've learned, before you make the call."

Inviting his two associates to join him in the car, he briefly recounted his conversation with Lady Julian.

"So I've spent the last little while trying to get in touch with at least one of the two men she spoke of," he informed them. "The route was not exactly direct, but I was finally able to get through to this Lama Jigme, who's agreed to see us.

"The bad news is that Jigme's not at home in Dumfriesshire, but out on Holy Island, off Arran, where he's been supervising some conservation work. The good news is that Julian's old master, Tseten, is there on the island as well, though he's on an informal retreat. Once Jigme has heard us out, he'll decide whether or not Tseten should be disturbed on our account. In any event, I've said we'll contrive to meet Jigme tomorrow morning, as early as possible."

"On Holy Island?" Peregrine asked.

"Correct. Which leaves us with the logistics problem of making the rendezvous. It's just past five now. I'm sure we could make the last Arran ferry - at this time of day, it's a couple of hours' drive down to Ardrossan - but aside from that being a bit unfair to Julia, whose honeymoon has already been interrupted, it would involve our trying find accommodation on Arran at very short notice. Under the circumstances, I think it will be better for us to spend the night somewhere on the mainland, with the intention of catching the first ferry out in the morning."

"When is that?" McLeod asked.

"Seven o'clock," Adam said with a raised eyebrow. "Which means we ought to plan on being at the dock by no later than six forty-five - which, in turn, means a six-thirty rendezvous. That's why I'm suggesting we not go back to our respective homes for the night. Think you can manage that, Peregrine? Noel and I will find a B & B near the ferry terminal, so you're the one who'll have the really early start, if you're still in Glasgow tonight."

With a groan, Peregrine settled back in his seat. "So much for a leisurely breakfast with my wife, with bacon and sausage, and fruit scones with butter - "

McLeod choked back a snort and began punching in a number on his cell phone. "With the breakfasts and dinners you've probably been putting away on your wedding trip, old son, I expect you can afford to skip one full breakfast. And at least you'll have the pleasure of your wife's company."

"Speaking of which," Adam added, as McLeod waited for his wife to pick up, "why don't we take a rain check on that dinner I promised? If I'm going to steal you away from your bride tomorrow, the least I can do is give you back some privacy tonight. Just don't miss the boat in the morning."

Peregrine pulled a lopsided grin. "I'll try."

"Good. The main crossing takes just under an hour and I've been told there'll be a boatman to meet us at Lamlash just after eight o'clock. He'll run us out to Holy Island itself, where, hopefully, someone will be able to give us some of the answers we need."

Chapter Twenty

"I wonder what the weather's like in the Gulf of Corinth A just now," Julia Lovat remarked with a sigh, as she turned west off the A78 the next morning, following the signs for Ardrossan and the Arran Ferry. The early morning sky was gloomy and overcast, with a light mist in the air, and she had the headlights and wipers on.

"Probably clear and balmy," her husband said around a yawn, hunched down in his seat beside her.

"Hmmm, yes." Julia down-shifted to overtake a milk float whose driver had stopped to make a delivery. "I find I have a sudden, unaccountable yearning to eat baklava and take a bus tour to Delphi."

The comment stirred Peregrine out of his early morning fog, and he removed his spectacles to rub at his bleary eyes. Despite an excellent meal the night before and a blissful evening spent in the arms of his loving wife, his sleep had been broken by fitful dreams, leaving him with a dull ache in his head and a flat metallic taste in his mouth. The disturbing quality of the dreams themselves was something he intended to take up later with Adam. In the meantime, blinking my-opically out at the blustery Scottish dawn, he asked, "Are you regretting we didn't book a cruise of the Aegean?"