Dagger Magic

"Let's just say that I'm beginning to appreciate Jane McLeod's rationale for insisting that she and Noel take their holiday this year in Tenerife," Julia said. "As I recall, her words were something along the lines of, The further away from home you go, the less likely you are to be recalled on business."

"You may be onto something," Peregrine agreed, yawning again. "The next time we plan a trip, maybe we should consider booking a sailing excursion to the Galapagos Islands, or a hiking expedition through the mountains of Sri Lanka."

"Well, it wouldn't hurt to file those ideas away for future reference," she said, "finances permitting."

"Consider them filed," Peregrine said with a grin that was slightly forced.

He huddled back down in his seat, retiring like a turtle into the bulky warmth of his high-necked Arran pullover.

"Are you sure you don't want to take a couple of paracetamol?" Julia asked, after negotiating a mini-roundabout. "I've got some in my bag."

"I doubt they'd help, but thanks anyway," Peregrine mumbled. "There's nothing wrong with me that won't improve once I've had a chance to wake up."

"I hope you're right about that," she replied, "because we're almost there."

Forcing himself upright, Peregrine put his spectacles back on and scanned ahead. In the gradually brightening gloom, the ferry and its landing loomed ahead against a windswept backdrop of whitecapped water and cloudy sky. The great bow doors of the ship gaped open, and about a dozen vehicles were already lined up on the access ramp in its shadow, including a familiar black BMW toward the end of the queue. Two figures in tan trenchcoats were just getting back into the car, both of them wearing flat tweed caps.

"There they are," he said, pointing, "and I forgot a hat. We'll just have to hope it doesn't bucket, or I'll drown. You can let me out right here."

Julia pulled the Alvis to the curb and stopped, and Peregrine reached over the seat for his waxed jacket and portable sketchbox. As he did so, the diesel-tainted air was riven by the loud hoot of a klaxon horn.

"You'd better hurry," Julia said. "They're starting to board."

Peregrine kissed her hastily on the mouth and scrambled out of the car, shrugging on his waxed jacket.

"Give us till lunch time, then try ringing me up on Noel's cell phone. The number's written down inside the cover of the road atlas. Hopefully by then, we'll know what our afternoon's schedule is going to be like, and I'll be able to suggest a time and place for us to rendezvous. Goodbye! I won't be any longer than I have to!"

" 'Bye, darling."

Aching head notwithstanding, Peregrine hurried off down the ramp, weaving his way in and out between the other waiting vehicles. He reached the BMW just as the car ahead was starting to move forward.

"Glad you could join us, Mr. Lovat," McLeod said over his shoulder as Peregrine flung open the back door and piled inside behind them. "You could have cut it a little closer, but not by much."

"Sorry," Peregrine murmured. "I thought I'd allowed plenty of time."

"You did," Adam replied, with a backward glance and a smile. "It's just now quarter to seven. I'm sure we won't leave early."

Peregrine merely nodded. The brief burst of activity had left him feeling slightly lightheaded. He took several deep breaths to steady himself, and was relieved when the pounding in his temples subsided to a dull ache. Mentally praying that this hangover sensation wasn't going to last all day, he gave Julia a wave over his shoulder as McLeod put the car into gear and began easing the BMW down into the shadowy confines of the parking hold.

Since motorists were not allowed on the car deck once the ferry was at sea, there was a general exodus of drivers and passengers toward the motorists' lounge as soon as the cars were secured. Leaving McLeod to join the queue for coffee at the beverage counter, Adam and Peregrine went off to secure a table. Peregrine chose one in a far back corner, dim and away from the rest of the passengers.

"You're looking a bit fragile this morning," Adam observed, taking a good look at his young associate as they settled down to await McLeod's return. "Perhaps you ought to think about getting something more substantial than a cup of coffee."

"I don't think so. The way I feel at the moment, breakfast would just about be the end of me. I spent most of last night having some pretty strange dreams about flying."

"Something you ate?" Adam asked lightly, though Peregrine's immediate gesture of denial dashed any hope of the dreams being inconsequential.

"Tell me about the dreams," Adam said quietly, his right thumb absently caressing the band of the sapphire ring on his right hand.

Peregrine sighed and leaned a little closer to Adam, resting his elbows on the table as he knit his long fingers together.