Aces and Knaves

indicated that I should join her.
    I took off my shirt and belt, leaving on a T-shirt and jeans. I climbed under the covers. Arrow still wore her jeans and bra. Her mangled sweater lay in a heap on the floor.
    I turned out the light. She went to sleep in my arms. Much later, I also slept.

    Chapter 23 LARRY
    "The worst part isn't even the manhandling. It's the feeling of helplessness when you can't do anything. When you realize you're completely in the power of another person."
    Arrow was speaking in a low voice as we ate the hotel breakfast so as not to be heard by the few other guests who had straggled into the dining room on Sunday morning. The full Scottish breakfast included eggs, bacon (American ham), sausage, toast, black pudding, juice and tea. We both ate as if we had been fasting for a month.
    "I don't intend to ever get myself into that situation again." She said this with some of her usual grit. "But before we put this episode behind us I just want to say that you acted above and beyond the call of duty. He could have torn you limb from limb."
    "Instinct." I didn't want Arrow's thanks. I felt guilty for getting her into trouble.
    "You had a 'Get-out-of-jail-free' pass. You could have gone for help. Of course...by the time you had gotten help I would have been the victim of a double rape."
    She said the word I couldn't. "I think we both learned something."
    "Okay," Arrow said with finality, as if shutting a door. "What do we do now?"
    I gathered that we weren't going to talk about the fact that we had slept together—not euphemistically, really slept, and nothing else.
    I had wakened early and, not wanting to disturb Arrow, had quietly gone back to my room and thought about what we should do next. I said, "I propose the following: Let's pack our bags. We have one name of a man who lives in London. We may be able to get his address from the Internet."
    "How are we going to access the Internet?"
    "Our old friend, Michael. We'll call him at a decent hour. If he goes to church we'll catch him after church. He has no reason to be suspicious of us, like we do of him. I'm sure he'll let us use his computer for a few minutes."
    "So we won't tell him we think he's a liar."
    "Not a good idea. If he's really seen James he's in contact with him and we don't want James to know we're nosing around."
    "You don't think Jock is going to call him and tell him we're from the CIA?"
    "Whether or not Jock believes that, he's keeping a low profile right now, hoping we'll leave town without causing him any trouble."
    ***
    We arrived at Michael's house about noon after assuring him that we weren't coming for Sunday dinner. Heather greeted Arrow effusively and whisked her into the kitchen. Michael led me to his small office where the computer was already revved up.
    I found the name of Seamus Zeebarth in the white pages of one of the Internet search engines, with an address in London, and the name was sufficiently unusual that Michael and I agreed it was undoubtedly the right man.
    I asked Michael if I could send an email and he typed in the password to access his email system. He left the room for a couple of minutes while I sent an innocuous message to my father's address, knowing that John would read it. I left the copy on Michael's computer, in case he got curious. When I had finished I told Michael we would get out of his hair.
    "I have something to tell you first," he said. "I remembered what happened with Dickie Stewart."
    "I think Arrow would like to hear this too."
    Michael retrieved her from the kitchen. When she heard about Michael's recovered memory she mouthed the words "tape recorder" at me. It was in the car. I shook my head. We didn't want to inhibit him.
    The three of us sat around the fire, which always seemed to be going. Maybe Michael and Heather owned their own peat bog.
    Michael said, "I must have repressed it because it's a bit gruesome, but one of the boys did tell me what happened with Dickie. It came to me last night. Dickie was a sweet kid, perhaps too sweet for the likes of us. He adored Ned because Ned had gone to his rescue when he was being beaten up by some boys from the other side of town. Ned was handy with his fists."
    I could believe that. My memory of Ned was the feeling that he must be very muscular under his white shirt.
    "Dickie followed Ned everywhere and tried to do the same things he did. That brought him into contact with Elma. One time when Ned and James were off somewhere, Dickie and