Page 90 of Holmes Is Missing

Marple closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. “You found them.”

“We did indeed. All four babies. They were in a medical supply warehouse in Southampton, drugged and ready for transport,just like the ones on your side. They’re all fine, heading home today.”

“I’msoglad,” said Marple. “Glad for you. Glad for the parents.” She took a small pause and cleared her throat. “Glad for Rebecca.”

“Same here,” said Dodgett softly. “Her service is this afternoon.”

“I’m sorry I’m not there,” said Marple.

“I am too.”

An awkward pause.

Marple could sense that Dodgett had more to say but didn’t know quite how to say it. She glanced over at Holmes, standing alone at the top of the steps.

“I have to go,” said Marple. “Take care, Constable.”

“Right,” said Dodgett. “Be well, Miss Marple.”

Marple put her phone away and glanced up at the spires rising twenty-four stories into the sky. Four more children saved. That was something. She touched the thick wall of the cathedral and whispered her final prayer of the day.

A prayer of thanks.

CHAPTER96

TWELVE HOURS LATER.

For Brendan Holmes, like for most people in the city, the morning had been incredibly poignant and sad. It was amazing how far his emotions had turned in the course of a single day. Because, at this particular moment, sadness was the last thing on his mind.

In fact, he had never been happier.

Right now Holmes was in a place he had only dreamed of being—in a bed, under flower-patterned sheets, with his arms around Margaret Marple. Margaret looked happy too—a smile on her lips, a flush across her cheeks. Exhausted but in a very good way.

“Was that all right?” Holmes asked. After all the years of anticipation and longing, he was concerned that he’d been too anxious, too selfish, too quick.

Marple pulled his head down and kissed him softly. “It was excellent, Mr. Holmes,” she said, still catching her breath. “You’re exactly what this apartment has been missing.”

She rolled over to face him. He curled himself around her,absorbing the warmth of her body, the scent of her perfume, her hair, her skin.

It had been overwhelming at first—the sheer sensory impact of being so close to her. Making love with her. But his senses adapted, then quieted. Now he felt like he was floating on a wave of gentle energy. It was a new feeling for him. Better than drugs. And he wanted desperately to make it last. He closed his eyes and…

BOOM!

A deafening explosion rocked the walls.

Holmes hit the floor in his pajama bottoms. He was covered in plaster dust and his ears were ringing. Smoke filled the room. Flower vases lay shattered by the bed. The fire alarm was screeching.

He shouted over the din of the alarm.“Margaret!”

She was on her knees a few yards away, covering herself with a robe.“What happened?”she shouted back.

“Bomb!”No doubt in his mind. He smelled calcium hypochlorite, nitrobenzene, sulfur…“Goddamnit!”The smoke was getting thicker.

Holmes stood up and pulled Marple to her feet, then out of the bedroom and through the living room. He placed his palm against the apartment door, feeling for heat. The frame was cracked and tilted. He braced one foot against the molding and pulled hard on the knob. The door flew open. More smoke poured in.

Outside the apartment, the balcony was tipped at an angle. Emergency strobes blasted through the haze. Two doors down, Poe burst out into the hallway in briefs and a T-shirt, a rifle at his hip. Helene was right behind him, wrapped in a blanket.

“Can you see anybody?” Poe shouted, pointing his gun over the railing.