Free Secrets by Jane A. Adams

sip of the spirit. ‘Twice, at least.’
    â€˜No, my dear. The gun he carried was used to kill at least twice before. That does not necessarily mean that the young man who chose to end his life on my landing, took the shot. I’m told you can rent a weapon and five rounds by the week if you know who to ask.’
    â€˜Five rounds?’
    â€˜Well, I agree it’s excessive. If you can’t get the job done in one, you should probably find another, more suitable occupation. But five rounds is standard, I believe. I always wondered if you got a refund for any unused.’
    â€˜Molly!’ It wasn’t like Alec to be sharp, at least not outside of the interview room. Naomi was startled; Molly just chuckled delightedly.
    â€˜Oh, are we playing good cop, bad cop? Really, Alec, isn’t that a little bit of a cliché?’
    Naomi could feel his frustration. She wondered what was really going on here and it occurred to her that Molly, like so many before that Naomi had encountered in a professional capacity, really
did
want to tell. That whatever it was she was hiding was weighing heavily, but that the thought of just coming out with it was … well was impossible. She needed that permission, that coercion, so that admission would not be her responsibility.
    But she didn’t think that Molly would be quick to give in. She tried a different tack. ‘What makes you think the dead man hadn’t killed the other two?’ she asked.
    â€˜I didn’t say that was what I thought.’
    â€˜No,’ Naomi agreed. ‘I just got the impression you’d thought that.’
    There was another silence while Molly considered this, but it was not so leaden this time. She heard the bottle raised and poured again, and moved her own glass well away.
    â€˜He stood in my garden,’ Molly said. ‘Just stood there, like some little kid who’d been sent to stand outside when the party was going on inside. He looked …’ She seemed to scrabble around for the right word. ‘Lost,’ she said. ‘No, just puzzled. It was as if …’ She shook herself and the moment seemed to pass. ‘I’m an old woman,’ she said. ‘What could I possibly know about such things?’
    â€˜Molly, please,’ Alec said. ‘This is important. Other people could be at risk. You could be at risk.’
    â€˜By your own logic, that’s not likely,’ she said. ‘Alec, if he’d been sent to kill me then he failed. Dramatically. If you are right and he killed those other people, then he is no longer a risk to others, is he? If it was someone else, then nothing I can tell you will help, will it?’
    â€˜And what if he was sent for you? If someone else comes?’
    â€˜Then I’ll be dead and you’ll have your answer, won’t you? Alec, I told that policeman and I told that Delia woman, I won’t be frightened out of my home and I’ve lived far too long to be intimidated by what
might
be. None of us know how long we have. Sometimes we cheat death when others beside us don’t. Sometimes death decides it really is time to turn our card and comes to find us, no matter how we try to stack the deck. One thing I’ve learnt, Alec, is that death is everywhere. I’ve spent my life with him breathing on my back; sometimes you just have to turn around and face the inevitable.’
    Naomi frowned. Then, on impulse, she held out her glass in Molly’s direction. Molly laughed harshly and filled both their glasses.
    â€˜Are you at least going to pretend to sample yours, Alec? A toast isn’t a toast unless the spirit touches the lips.’
    Reluctantly, Alec raised his glass.
    â€˜To the lost ones,’ Molly said.
    â€˜Are they finding their way home, Molly?’ Alec asked.
    â€˜Maybe they are,’ she said. ‘And if that’s the case there is nothing to be done.’
    They left half an hour later.