“It’s a mystery.”“How many mysteries do you- hic – have?” Sally asked.I considered. The mystery of the ring, the mystery of the assassins,...and now the mystery of Bessie Toonie’s death. I lifted my fingers. “Three.”“Oh.” Sally looked faintly mournful, as if she had expected more.The front door of the Toonie Manor looked as if it had gone without a fresh painting since that fateful ball. The windows were dirty, and several panes looked as if they had been knocked out years before had had never. Problem was I was no prostitute, and I had no clue what cost what, especially as a girl, surely that must cost more, so yes, as you can see, I was getting comfortable with doing a sex thing for money.I went back to his car window and saw him start to jack himself, 'Stop that', I demanded, and he reluctantly did so, and I leant into the window, 'Take your hands away from yourself', I ordered, and he did as I bade.'What's your cost baby', he asked me softly?'I'm not a prostitute', I again. More

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