When I got back to my office Felicia Smythe-Frye was sitting by my desk.

"How did you get in here?"

"I need your help."

I set my client case beside my chair and sat warily watching her for high signs.

"You didn't answer my question. How did you get in?"

"It wasn't locked. Please, Mr. Hart I need your help."

Not locked! I glanced around to see if I noticed anything missing but I couldn't remember everything I had here.

"Help you with what? I got your necklace back, my job is done."

"That's just it . . . we didn't get it back."

"What do you mean, I gave it to James myself?"

"He- he was robbed and the necklace stolen."

Tattoo! Shit. "Who? How . . .?"

"I don't know. Please, Mr. Hart we have to get it back. My father . . ."

"Why not go to the police then? I can't track down random hold up artists." She sniffled and began rummaging through her purse, taking out a small compact. I thought she was going to touch up her makeup but when she dipped her face toward the container I reached across the desk and slapped it out of her hand. "Not in my office, lady."

"No! Oh no!" She looked at the powder all over her skirt and the floor then began crying uncontrollably.

I knew the police wasn't an option and I also knew it was the Druids. They must have followed me then hit James and stolen the necklace back. Problem was, what to do about it. What would happen to my twenty-four hours now?

Felicia was wetting her finger and sopping up what she could from her skirt and rubbing it on her gums. I warned her once more then told her I was taking her home.

"I can't go home!"

"Why, because you're half cut?"

"My father will be there."

"He does know, Felicia . . . about you and your mother."

"I can't face him."

"But you can bring your habit here and face me? What did you think I could do anyway?"

I thought about the aloof woman who had answered the door naked and tried to balance that woman with the frightened, dishevelled looking one sitting across from me.

"Maybe talk to daddy."

Daddy! Did she regress suddenly with that tiny hit of sleet or was she already flying?

"What would you have me talk about exactly?"

"Maybe just- just explain everything so he doesn't get so mad." She began snivelling again.

"And your mother, what would she say to that?"

"My parent are estranged. It's not- formal but we all know."

"We?"

"The staff, Rodney. Me, of course."

"How long?"

"A couple of years I guess."

"What? He never mentioned that to me and why the hell would he buy her a million dollar piece of jewellery . . . an estrangement anniversary gift?"

She just stared at me and I knew there was no answer she might know. I cursed inside and argued with myself about the circumstances. Mother always said, tell the truth. Wish she was here, I'd send her.

"Alright, let's go. I'll tell your father everything that happened and you guys will have to take whatever lumps he wants to give out; I have no skin in this game, Felicia." I knew that was a brave statement. My skin was definitely on the line.

********

Bennett sat stone-faced, almost Rushmore like, his drink forgotten in his hand. I had laid out everything I had done since he hired me, mistakes, excuses and all. It didn't sound as bad as I thought when I told it all without hedging and the family had stayed silent throughout my dissertation.

"The problem as I see it now is the Druids and I think if you go to the police, tell them James was having the necklace evaluated and it was stolen when he was returning it - it will be all our words against a biker gang."

Bennett drained his glass. "That's how you see it is it, Hart?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"I have a junky daughter with a fiancé who is in jail charged with murdering her supplier. A wife who is also junky having an adulterous affair with my personal and business attorney." James shrank back in his chair. "A private investigator who attempted to manoeuvre behind my back and you think our collective statement would contradict this bike gang's version."

"Well, when you put it that way . . ."

"I'll tell you how I'm putting it, Hart. You will get that necklace back without revealing me or anyone else as the owner and you will assure me that there will be no further contact with this gang or the private eye days of Richard Hart will be a brief footnote on a lavatory wall."

*********

When I entered the diner Verna nodded toward my booth and whispered in my ear, "You should have gone to the police, Hart." Bennett's threat had me wondering the same thing.

Tattoo occupied one side of the booth completely and when I sat I felt like Tom Thumb looking across at him.

"Have you tried the Thai Shrimp, they are amazing?"

"If I don't get what I came for I'll be having Hart shrimp."

"I see small talk wasn't on the menu. Look, I can't reveal my client's name. I could lose my license and before you say the obvious about what I could lose, I was told that it was either the necklace or the whole story goes to the cops."

"I gave you the necklace."

"Yes and you followed me then followed the person I gave it to and took it back."

"He wasn't your client."

"Did you really think it would be that easy? But now that my client doesn't have his property you can expect to see the cops."

"But without you as a witness there isn't much of a story to connect me is there?"

I blanched inside. "Enough to have them poking around. You got the money you agreed to, a deal's a deal . . . or isn't your word and the Druid code worth the crayon it's scribbled with?" I was getting pissed off with being squeezed between Bennett and his millions and Tattoo and his minions.

"You got stones, Hart."

"That's me, Hart of Stone."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. What's it gonna be, me or the cops?"

There was a sudden vacuum in the diner as if he had sucked all the air in with one gulp. I could hear my heart banging in my chest. The soft whirr of a kitchen fan. The faint sizzle of food on the griddle and then it ended when the door banged shut and a group of noisy construction workers came in.

Verna appeared beside me, her hand shaking slightly as she poured me a coffee and asked what I wanted to eat. I gave her an assuring smile and told her my usual then gazed purposely at Tattoo.

"How about you, like to try some? . . . It's all on me."

His face said he got my inference and with a resigned bounce of his head he nodded to Verna.

"You know I could still bust it up and peddle the stones separately."

"Well the very best of luck with that, my friend. There isn't a fence in the country who wouldn't know about the theft, the item and the makeup of its pieces. You'd be lucky to get coffee money."

The food arrived and we ate in silence. At the end, he slid an envelope across the table and sat back. I didn't think he had room. I peeked inside, satisfied with the contents then dropped some bills on the table and stood up.

"This is best for all concerned, I think you know that." I turned and walked away, stopping and holding my breath when he called my name.

"The Thai Shrimp was good."

I blew out a relieved sigh, gave him a backward wave and left the diner.