I just fell asleep when the phone rang. "Eldridge."

    "Daddy?"

    Swinging my feet over the edge of the bed, I tried not to look at the clock. "Hi honey. Is everything all right?"

    "I locked my keys in the car."

    "Do you have a spare set?"

    "I was hoping you could pick it up. It's at Mom's."

    My teenage daughter wasn't asking for a favor, she was asking me to wake my ex-wife at...I glanced at the clock...three in the morning. "Sure honey. Where are you?"

    "Halfway down Long Woods Road."

    "I'll be there as soon as I can."

    Some people would have asked Emily how she managed to lock her keys in the car on an empty stretch of road but I'd been a private investigator long enough to know that certain questions were best left alone.

    Besides, my relationship with my daughter was tenuous enough. Let her mother be the heavy.

    After splashing water on my face, I returned to my car. I'd spent the last fourteen hours in this front seat and here I was again.

    Was it any wonder I was divorced, cruising through dark empty streets when normal people were asleep? This time it wasn't the job but usually it was.

    I should call. If she knew I was coming, she'd be awake by the time I arrived. That might make it easier for both of us.

    After this, I'd demand Emily give me a copy of her keys.

    Dialing the number while I steered with the other hand, I tried out a number of opening statements. None of them sounded good, and when she finally answered the phone, I merely said that Emily was in trouble.

    "What kind of trouble?" I could hear the sleep washing off her.

    "Emily locked herself out of the car and asked me to pick up her spare."

    "You sound tired."

    She could always hear more than I ever said. "Resting isn't billable hours."

    "Neither is rescuing your daughter."

    "I thought you might toss me a sawbuck."

    She laughed. "You're still every inch the tough guy."

    "I'll be there in a few."

    After disconnecting, I tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. Even if we weren't friends, the break was amicable enough. There was no sense in holding a grudge.

    She was standing framed by the front door when I pulled up. I'd know that silhouette anywhere, and I hated to admit that my heart skipped a beat.

    Taking a deep breath, I started up the walkway. In the distance I could hear a sudden rash of police sirens.

    She stepped out onto the porch, the spare set dangling from her right hand. "I wish I had some coffee to offer you."

    "Emily is waiting."

    She held out the keys. "Thanks for doing this."

    "No problem. I'll get an earlier start on tomorrow's surveillance."

    "Go save Emily you crazy knight in shining armor."

    Nodding, I went back to the car.

    Long Woods Road was an unlit piece of blacktop that snaked through the state forest. If Emily wasn't my daughter, I'd assume she'd gone there to meet someone on the sly. Since she was, I preferred to believe that she had stopped to let a deer cross the road.

    I chuckled at my thoughts. The human heart was a complex construction with ornate locks and one-way mirrors, elaborate mazes and hidden doorways. Tomorrow morning I'd be back watching an abandoned warehouse to determine if Correia Shipping was defrauding my client. It wasn't half the mystery that human relations were.

    I hit the brakes as a police car with flashing lights sped through the intersection. At least they weren't headed into the state forest.

    Continuing towards Emily, I let my mind wander around the Correia case. He was stealing from his own shipping company, putting in claims, and then selling the merchandise on the black market. At least that was what the insurance company suspected and I was supposed to prove.

    I'd discovered an abandoned warehouse that Correia Shipping no longer used and spent the last couple of days parked down the street. So far I'd seen squat.

    I was tired enough that at first I didn't recognize the woman shielding her eyes from my headlights. I was beginning to wonder what a young woman was doing on such a desolate piece of road when my brain finally clicked into gear and I recognized Emily.

    Pulling in behind her car, I kept the engine running rather than plunge us into darkness.

    "Daddy, is that you?"

    She was a bit of a deer herself, frozen in the light despite a visible urge to bolt. "Daddy?"

    "Hi honey. I got your spares."

    "I really, really appreciate this." She kissed me on the cheek. "It's a good thing your phone wasn't locked in the car with the keys."

    Emily nodded towards the dark woods. "Actually, my keys are out there somewhere."

    Maybe she threw them at a predator which was threatening the deer that had been caught in her headlights. "Oh?"

    She sighed. "I got a speeding ticket."

    "A speeding ticket."

    Emily waved at the empty road. "Who was I a danger to? I mean really. I'm still mad. But after the cop left, I got out of the car and threw my keys as hard as I could."

    "I'm sure he'll never ticket another speeder."

    Emily stepped closer, ignoring my attempt at humor. "Mom said the next time I got a moving violation she was taking away my car."

    "You need the number of a reliable taxi company?"

    "I need you to fix the ticket."

    Perhaps if I hadn't been so exhausted, I wouldn't have answered as I did. "Okay. Do you have a story prepared for your mother?"

    "Certainly. I swerved to miss a deer but I thought I might have winged it so I stopped, locking my keys in the car when I went out to check."

    "You took the phone with you?"

    "I thought I might need to call for help."

    For all I knew, the ability to quickly construct a lie might stand Emily in good stead. Anyway I was too tired to climb onto a soapbox and lecture. "You get yourself home and I'll head over to the police station to see who's on duty."

    This time I got a hug and a kiss before Emily jumped into her car and flipped around. I followed at a more sedate pace.

    I hoped she didn't drive home so fast that she didn't have time to plug the holes in her story. Right off the bat her mother would ask for the spares back and how would Emily explain she needed to keep them?

    I yawned as I exited the woods and took the first left towards the police department.

    Emily had U-turned to head home which meant she hadn't been going that way when she was pulled over. Maybe I wanted to know what was on the other side of Long Wood Road at three in the morning and maybe I didn't.

    There was a TV news van outside the station.

    One van meant the story was either small or too recent for the rest of the competition to arrive. Or they'd come and gone and this crew was hoping for a human interest angle.

    As soon as I entered the lobby, Lieutenant Brant crocked his finger at me from behind the bullet proof glass. Wishing I had stopped on the way for coffee, I waited at the metal door until it buzzed.

    The Lieutenant was all smiles. "What brings you here?"

    "I need a favor."

    "Even better. Step into my office."

    Surprised by his response, I followed him into the little room behind dispatch. "Had a little excitement earlier?"

    "Homicide always adds sparkle to a shift. But enough about me. What's this about a favor?"

    I cleared my throat before sitting. "My daughter had a brush with one of your fine officers earlier."

    The Lieutenant lifted his feet up onto the desk. "Ah yes, I saw Emily's information come up on the screen. Do you want us to bring her in, rough her up a little?"

    "That's funny. Actually I was hoping you could take care of the ticket."

    "Consider it done. That's what friends are for. I scratch your back, you scratch mine." The Lieutenant frowned. "You look like crap."

    "My schedule has been a bit hectic."

    "You're working the Correia Shipping thing." He nodded to himself. "Tell you what. I help you out, you help me out, maybe you help yourself out. Honestly, I'm glad you stopped in."

    The Lieutenant stood and poured himself a cup of sludge from the machine on his filing cabinet. Having accepted a cup once, I shook my head when he raised the pot. "No thanks."

    "I thought you could use the caffeine."

    "Not that badly."

    Grunting, the Lieutenant sat on the corner of his desk. "You've heard of THE MYSTERY CASINO."

    "The cruise ship that takes the hopeful into international waters so that scantily-clad waitresses wearing fedoras can ply them with free drinks with the expectation that they'll lose their money faster? Nope, never heard of it."

    "Tonight you missed quite the floor show." He sipped his coffee, smacked his lips as though the toxic liquid was tasty. "A man by the name of Dixon Jones has been running up a line of credit over the last couple of weeks. Way in over his head. Tonight he was accused of trying to recover by cheating at poker."

    "Not too smart."

    "Unless there's life after death, he won't repeat the mistake. Allegedly, Ed Whisper noticed Dixon double-dealing and pumped two alleged shots into the crook."

    I was beginning to see how this might concern me. Ed Whisper worked for Correia Shipping and Correia Shipping supposedly owned a piece of THE MYSTERY CASINO. "And now Dixon is allegedly dead."

    "No, Dixon Jones is most certainly dead. That's the one thing we can prove."

    "You can't be at a loss for witnesses."

    The Lieutenant sucked down the remainder of his coffee. "You and me, we're in a similar business. We right wrongs. We just go about it differently."

    If I could rush this along, I might be able to sleep for a whole hour before returning to the warehouse. "Talk to me."

    "This is a political hot potato that the Chief wants cooled before the question of jurisdiction is even raised. That's where you come in."

    "Why me? It sounds open and shut."

    He rubbed his face. "I can't bring myself to say the words."

    "What words?"

    "This isn't open and shut. In fact, what we have is an impossible crime, a locked-room mystery. Despite being identified as the shooter by more than twenty people, Ed Whisper couldn't have killed Dixon Jones."

    "He a devout pacifist?"

    The Lieutenant laughed. "Just the opposite. Right now he's sitting in jail on a drunk and disorderly after busting up a bar and sending two patrons to the hospital."

    "Why didn't you book him for the killing?"

    "Because he was tossed into lockup an hour before the murder occurred and he hasn't stirred since."

    "I think I'll take that cup of coffee." I tried to line up the facts as I knew them but they kept stepping out of place. Whisper couldn't have killed Dixon if he was in lockup but twenty witnesses wouldn't pick the wrong mug shot.

    The Lieutenant refilled his coffee after pouring mine. "It's a ball-buster."

    "The passengers positively identified Whisper?"

    The Lieutenant handed me my coffee. "Those who didn't see his face as he shot Dixon saw it as he ran from the room."

    "Any question about the timing?"

    "For once, everybody agrees. The ship has these scrolling electronic signs. You know, IT'S ALREADY 10:37. ONLY 83 MINUTES LEFT TO DOUBLE YOUR MONEY."

    "That's very considerate of them."

    The Lieutenant placed packets of sugar and a jar of non-dairy powder at my disposal but I still couldn't turn the sludge into coffee. "I don't suppose the booking desk could have mixed up the time."

    "Not likely. Besides, I reviewed the video tape and at 10:37 Whisper was passed out in his cell."

    Correia may have found a double of Whisper, but the odds were against his double being willing to murder someone. "You have quite a puzzle here."

    "Imagine my joy when you asked for a favor. You were smart enough to leave the force, I figure you're smart enough to solve this."

    "Thanks for the confidence."

    "I can get you on the ship if that will help."

    "No thanks. I'm seasick if I stay in the shower too long."

    The Lieutenant opened a folder. "Good. We don't have a lot of time. If you don't crack this by the end of my shift, I can't do anything about your daughter's problem."

    I sniffed. "Thanks for being reasonable."

    "No point asking for the impossible. Of course I wouldn't mind a solution in the next ten minutes. Then I won't have to stay late finishing the paperwork."

    "I'll see what I can do."

    As the Lieutenant started reading from his folder, I swirled the coffee around the mug since I sure as heck wasn't going to drink the foul liquid. The motion suddenly reminded me of waves and I stopped.

    I'd gone out on a boat only once and it had been the longest two hours of my life. Actually, I had only been on the water for less than an hour but it felt like eight.

    Placing my mug on the corner of the desk, I sat back in triumph. "Fix the ticket and I'll give you the solution."

    "You serious?"

    As I nodded, the Lieutenant picked up the phone. I glanced at the clock, tried to determine if I even had time for a quick catnap, decided that it would probably do me more harm than good.

    The Lieutenant leaned forward. "Okay, the ticket no longer exists."

    "Believe it or not, the coffee helped."

    He glanced inside the cup. "You didn't touch a drop."

    "The coffee reminded me of the worst day of my life." I paused. "More often than not, seemingly impossible crimes are about assumptions. You made two of them. You assumed that THE MYSTERY CASINO followed its usual route and you assumed that the clocks were correct."

    The Lieutenant grinned, grabbed a piece of paper and started making notes. "Go on."

    "I think THE MYSTERY CASINO was closer to shore than usual when the shooting took place. Whisper plugged Dixon, went down the side of the ship to a waiting boat, sped to shore, and then started a fight to get himself thrown in jail."

    "Heck of an alibi."

    "Yes, and the reason the plan worked was that THE MYSTERY CASINO played cute with the scrolling clocks, slowing down time before the shooting and speeding it up afterwards. Gamblers were focused on the games, the free drinks, the waitresses. Who bothers to look at a watch when the time is right there?"

    The Lieutenant nodded. "Mob mentality. People start saying the shooting happened at 10:37 and even if someone glances at a watch they assume they're reading it wrong."

    "I wouldn't be surprised to learn that more liquor than usual flowed that night to further muddle the issue. In any case, you should be able to find boat captains who can swear when and where they saw the ship."

    The Lieutenant waggled a finger. "Not only that, but someone probably noticed Whisper's boat land."

    I shifted in my seat. "Having Dixon killed on the ship, Correia both made his point about the foolishness of not repaying loans and also managed to turn THE MYSTERY CASINO into even more of an intriguing destination."

    "The public loves a cheap thrill." After making a few more notes, the Lieutenant sat back in his seat. "I knew you could perform under pressure."

    "Next time, let's see if I do as well with less, shall we?" I stood as the Lieutenant picked up the phone again. "Thanks for helping Emily."

    Seeing myself out, I drove towards the warehouse. Even if Correia had pulled the strings, it was unlikely he'd hang for the Dixon killing. That meant I still needed to prove him guilty of insurance fraud to make my client happy.

    Though I arrived at the abandoned warehouse earlier than usual, I was late for the opening act. One of Correia's trucks was already parked outside and two men were carrying boxes of merchandise inside.

    From here they'd drive the truck to the official company warehouse and declare the missing stock stolen en-route while the driver stopped to eat or sleep. I'd heard once that ten percent of interstate shipments disappeared.

    Once again Correia was playing with assumptions of time, betting that no one would bother to check if any of the town's empty warehouses were being used to hide stolen goods. Why burn the building for the insurance if it was available for something bigger?

    While shooting a dozen pictures to document the scene, I nearly jumped out of my skin when the phone rang. "Eldridge"

    "Daddy?"

    "Hi honey. Did you get home safely?"

    "Yes but I need you to talk to Mom."

    "I fixed the ticket. Didn't she buy the story?"

    Emily sighed. "I found I couldn't lie to her, not about something so important."

    "Important?"

    "The reason I was out on Long Wood Road last night was that I was meeting Danny Correia. We want to get married."

    I imagined meeting Danny's father just before testifying against him. "Gee honey, that's great."

    "Mom doesn't think so. She says that Danny's father is a gangster. You have to convince her otherwise."

    Perhaps a hypnotist could help me with seasickness. I could buy a small boat, stock it with beer, learn to fish. After all, I lived in a costal community and it wasn't healthy for me to work around the clock.

    "Daddy, are you still there?"

    The phone I'd leave on shore.