Trust Me

was grateful.
    After a while Tony spoke from the chair. “She made me a hero.”
    Stark ignored him. He eased ARCANE deeper into the anonymous server’s secret passages.
    “A real hero,” Tony whispered. “I didn’t just act the part, you know. I did the job. I saved her from that crazy bastard. He was going to kill her.”
    Stark hesitated. “What exactly did happen when Desdemona was five?”
    “Celia’s ex-husband, George Northstreet, came after her and Desdemona. Northstreet had been getting worse for some time, they said. He was completely over the edge by then. He must have stalked them for days before he made his move. He grabbed Desdemona first.”
    Stark did not move. “Where?”
    “He took her right out of the parking lot in front of a small dinner theater.” Tony gazed out the window, everything in him focused on the past. “I was there with her, teaching her to ride a bike. I was supposed to be keeping an eye on her while the family rehearsed a musical inside. I guess Northstreet thought that I wasn’t much of a threat. He ignored me and stuffed Desdemona in the trunk of his car.”
    “The claustrophobia,” Stark said to himself.
    “Yeah, that’s where it comes from. Northstreet drove off with Desdemona. I yelled for help, but no one heard me. I figured that by the time I went into the theater, got everyone’s attention, and told them what was happening, Northstreet would be long gone.”
    “What did you do?”
    “I knew the route Northstreet would have to take to get onto the main cross street. I jumped on my bike and cut across a couple of backyards and a playing field. I came out at a busy intersection just as Northstreet was slowing for the light.”
    “And?” Stark prompted when Tony fell silent.
    “I rode my bike straight into his path and fell off right in front of his car.” Tony smiled wryly. “I created a huge scene at the intersection. Gave the best performance of my life. Kid on bicycle struck by car. Traffic came to a standstill. Everyone got out to see what was happening. Someone went into a nearby store and called for an ambulance.”
    “Nice going,” Stark said with grudging approval. “Quick thinking for a kid. For anyone, in fact.”
    “Once I had an audience, I miraculously recovered, ran around to the trunk of the car, and pounded on it. Desdemona screamed from inside. Everyone at the scene demanded that Northstreet open the trunk. Finally a cop arrived, and we got Desdemona out of the trunk. Ultimately Northstreet was arrested. He later shot himself.”
    “And you were a hero.”
    “Yeah,” Tony said. “Desdemona made me a hero.”
    “Desdemona didn’t make you a hero that day,” Stark said. “No one can turn a man into a hero, just as no one can turn him into a coward. A man has to do either one all by himself.”
    Tony looked at him, frowning. “What does that mean?”
    “The day you saved Desdemona’s life,” Stark said patiently, “you turned yourself into a hero.”
    There was another long silence.
    “I never thought about it quite like that,” Tony said eventually.
    “That’s your whole problem in life, Wainwright. You don’t think much. You just emote. Come over here and take a look at this.”
    “What have you got?”
    “ARCANE has identified the pattern beneath the encryption program.”
    Tony walked back across the study to stare down at the computer screen. “Are you serious?”
    “Trust me, Wainwright, ninety-nine times out of a hundred you can bet the bank that I’m serious.”
    “What about the one time when you’re not?”
    “I’m asleep.”

    The following morning Celia fixed Desdemona with gentle, troubled eyes. “You’re going to marry him? Oh, Desdemona, I was afraid of this. Are you absolutely certain he’s the man for you?”
    “Yes.” Desdemona surveyed the gleaming interior of Right Touch. Everything was back to normal, and she had a busy week ahead. Among other things, there was an engagement party to plan. Her own. She intended to go first-class all the way.
    The phone had been ringing all morning. For some reason that she was unable to fathom, the fact that there had been a murder on the premises had done nothing to hurt business. If anything, the publicity seemed to have helped.
    “Don’t misunderstand,” Celia said quickly. “Benedick and I like Stark very much. It’s just that he’s so different from the kind of men you’ve always dated.”
    “All three of them?”
    “I’m sure there