"Guido is in trouble," he admitted. "I don't know how closely related to the murder it is."
"Don't misunderstand me." Her face could have been modeled in chalk. "I never thought Guido would—would dream of—no! But he could have been drawn into something. And what would the police think?"
"Uh-huh. The same notion occurred to me."
"What happened, then?"
He told her.
"Oh, no." Her eyes closed.
"You see my dilemma," he said wearily. "I'll protect Guido if my conscience will let me, even though it's already led me into lawbreaking. But I don't know, I can't tell—"
She opened her eyes again. They blazed.
"Thank You," she said, not to Kintyre.
His scalp crawled. "What are you thinking of?"