Later, Cyril, Leslie, and Edward were huddled in a small teashop, sipping hot drinks across from The Black Dog Inn. The warmth of their bodies and the small room fit their needs perfectly since the turn in the weather from intermittent sunshine to rain and heavy mist.
“It certainly ticks all the right boxes, your Billy Devlin being here and up to no good,” Cyril said.
“If he’s turned,” Edward said. “If not…”he trailed off.
Cyril picked up his cup of tea and blew on it to cool the beverage down. “But you have to admit, Caroline and I running into him was quite a coincidence.”
“Not too unlikely if you think about it,” Edward said. “All roads lead to Douglas. He’s here somewhere.”
The three men nodded in agreement.
Leslie had been glancing out the window. The mist had thickened graduall
