“What happened to Boronov?” Smith asked him.
“Gone,” Friedman said, “vanished into thin air. No doubt he’ll pop up again somewhere.”
Smith took a long drink of the coffee.
“How are you feeling sir?” Whitton said.
“I don’t know,” Smith said, “I’ve just had my life saved by an old lady with a shotgun.”
Mary McDougal laughed.
“Occum’s Razor,” she said, “its funny how we don’t see what’s right in front of us sometimes isn’t it?”
She looked at Smith and then at Whitton. Whitton started to blush.
“Where’s Chalmers?” Smith said.
“Young took him to get his car,” Bridge said, “He should be here just now. He went to fetch something of yours.”
Right on cue, Chalmers walked in. Theakston ran in behind him. He ran up to Smith and jumped on his lap. Smith felt like he was going to cry. He thought he might never see Theakston again.
“Good news,” Chalmers said, “your jobs safe. I spoke to Smyth and he said it was just a simple misunderstanding. Silly old fool. I still need to talk to you about the Inspector post.”
Smith stood up and walked outside. Theakston followed after him.
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