Malice in Miniature (28 page)

“The point is,” he went on as I started to speak again, “the point is that you have the same qualifications I had— have. You're good with people; they like to talk to you. You have a positive genius for putting two and two together, and if the answer is sometimes five, it usually turns out that both twos were really two and a half. And you have a strong moral sense that sees evil for what it is, and despises it.”

I swallowed. “Oh, come now. I'm no angel, as you should know well enough by now. I have a temper, and I'm too quick to judge people, and I love to feel sorry for myself—”

“You're human, in short. Of course you are. So am I. But if you have the attributes that make a good detective, why on earth shouldn't you be one? You'll never be official, of course. But we don't have enough good men and women in the official police; we never will have. I can see no reason whatever why we shouldn't gratefully accept assistance from a member of the public who happens to be a gifted—”

“Snoop.”

“All right, if that's the word you want to use. In any case, I've come to my senses. You go ahead, my girl, and do what you're so good at doing, and if there's any way I can help without running afoul of the regulations, I shall. All I ask is that you look after yourself. I can't afford to lose one of my best detectives.”

The little round of applause served to remind us that there were other people in the room. And it was fortunate, because, for once, I couldn't think of a word to say to Alan.

“And here,” said Tom Anderson, standing and lifting his champagne glass, “is a double toast. First of all, to a Thanksgiving worth having, with Dorothy safe and another case solved.”

“Here, here,” said Jane. “Even drink to an American holiday, when it makes sense.”

“And second, to the only amateur sleuth in the world with a professional sidekick. To Dorothy and her new partner, Alan!”