Probably any other man would have felt that the search ended there, but the Saint was not any other man. And the strange clairvoyant conviction grew in his mind that that was where the search really began.
He went on with it more quickly, with even more assurance, although he had less idea than before what he was looking for. He only had that intuitive certainty that there should be something — something that would tie the last loose ends of the tangle together and make complete sense of it. And he did find it, after quite a short while.
It was only a shabby envelope tucked into the back of a folding photo frame that contained a nicely glamorised portrait of Freddie. Inside the envelope were a savings bank pass book that showed a total of nearly five thousand dollars, and a folded slip of paper. It was when he unfolded the slip of paper that he knew that the search was actually over and all the questions answered, for he had in his hands a certificate of marriage issued in Yuma ten months before...
“Are you having fun?” Lissa asked.
She had been as quiet as a cat, for he hadn’t heard her come in, and she was right behind him. And yet he wasn’t surprised. His mind was filling with a great calm and quietness as all the conflict of contradictions settled down and he knew that the last act had been reached.
He turned quite slowly, and even the small shining gun in her hand, aimed squarely at his chest, didn’t surprise or disturb him.
“How did you know?” he drawled.
“I’m not so dumb. I should have seen it before I went out if I’d been really smart.”
“You should.” He felt very detached and unrealistically balanced. “How did you get back, by the way?”
“I just took the car.”