Chapter 32. Explain one thing to me, the flying squirrel said that night as they stood on a rooftop across the street from a certain boxing gym.

Name it, he said, tearing his focus away from the door he had been quietly watching for 20 minutes and turning toward his partner.

She was almost a foot shorter than him, but somehow she never seemed small, even when they

stood still and close like this, which wasn't often. The warm night breezes that blew

gently through the streets below were more ambitious at this height, and her red bob of hair

whipped behind her dramatically in the moonlight. Better yet, he said. Let me guess. Kit was surprised, but nodded her

agreement. He didn't play games often, and she couldn't bear to miss this. How did I know that it was

Bennett in that airplane, he said, raising an eyebrow as if he had been waiting to be asked for hours?

I didn't. It seemed logical, probably even.

"'But I sent the police after the aircraft just in case.

"'That way if Captain Clarkwork had some other, much more clever and dangerous end-game in mind,

"'we'd still be on hand to deal with it.'

"'He smiled and shrugged.

"'Besides, as it turns out, O'Malley had no

trouble getting the plane to turn around, and Marcus Bennett is in a holding cell awaiting trial.

And since we stayed out of the big finish, at least as far as John Q. Public is concerned,

I thought a certain chief of police just might start to come around on us.' "'She snorted.

"'You really think so?'

"'He shrugged modestly.

"'Perhaps.

"'It would make things a great deal easier, would it not?

"'And some days I think I'd very much like to live through all this.'

...