“
I didn
’
t do it,
”
Billie said.
“
You did. Kind of like
‘
Superperson.
’
You appeared out of nowhere and descended upon us in the nick of time.
”
“
I had a more efficient weapon, that
’
s all. But I saw what you were doing. You were going to smash his skull. Kill him.
”
“
And you
’
d consider that a loss to mankind?
”
“
I
’
d consider it a mess. A PI is not supposed to be
—”
“—
involved in an active homicide case,
”
Billie continued in a singsong voice for her employer.
“—
the
perpetrator
of a homicide case.
”
“
That rule wasn
’
t in the book you gave me.
”
“
It didn
’
t say you couldn
’
t murder people?
”
Billie shook her head. She was drenched and exhausted and filthy. And in a state of quiet joy.
“
Ach,
”
Emma said.
“
That
’
s the problem with book learning. Leaves things out. That
’
s why the excellent on-the-job training I provide is so important.
”
“
So this was another goddamned learning experience,
”
Billie said.
“
Sure as hell.
”
“
Then these hours
—
they count, right? Against my six thousand.
”
“
I didn
’
t tell you to go chasing after a car.
”
Billie leaned back in her seat. Of course she was going to count them. Of course Emma was going to behave as if she
’
d somehow robbed her via those two
—
make it three
—
extra hours. But as that still left Billie with five thousand nine hundred and twenty-seven more hours to go, and probably just as many head-to-head arguments with this difficult, admirable woman, why waste breath now? Just because, in its own bizarre fashion, their test of wills, battle to the death, was enjoyable? At least it seemed so right now.
Not a perfectly happy ending. There were too many casualties. But Emma had said to be contented with a just plain ending. And Emma, it turns out, was sometimes right.
And that was good enough.