Page 93 of Fe
“I had a client once who didn’t want to talk and I said something about two crows being an attempted murder and it opened up a line of communication. It was a theft case, not murder.”
Fen chuckled. “I like facts that look wrong.”
“Such as?”
“The Canary Islands are named after dogs.”
“Canariae Insulae. Dog Island. From the Latin.”
Fen huffed. “Of course you’d know. So what colour is a purple finch?”
Ripley sighed. “Obviously not purple, so red?”
“Yes. Darn it. Where are Panama hats made?”
“Ecuador.”
“I give in.”
“Say something to me in Japanese.”
“Namaikina yatsu.”
“Smart arse?”
Fen gaped at him. “How could you possibly know that?”
“It was a guess. But mind reader, remember?”
“Watashi wa hontoni anata ga sukidesu.”I really like you.
“Sooo…you’re saying I’m a smart arse—but very good-looking?”
Fen laughed.
“Ah, not that then,” Ripley said.
Gradually, Ripley came back to life and by the time Fen had been dropped at the front door with the bags and the stone, named Winston by Fen, and Ripley had gone to put the car in the garage, things felt okay.
Fen was unpacking their things when Ripley came in carrying Winston.
“Oh good, no one stole him,” Fen said.
Ripley rolled his eyes and carried it out into the garden.
Fen had time to hide the little hare, which he was sure was a piece of netsuke, a small carved Japanese ornament used as a toggle to hang things from on traditional dress. The wooden hare had holes a cord could go through. If it was authentic, it could be valuable. Sadly, there were a lot of fakes out there. He’d wondered if Ripley might like it.
Ripley helped him put everything away. They washed the fossils and sea glass and left them to dry. Fen set the washing machine going, wondering when rather than if Ripley would ask him to open that box.
“Anything you fancy to eat?” Ripley asked.
“Tomatoes on toast.”
Ripley raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
“It’s my favourite simple thing to eat.”
“Is one tin enough for two of us?”
