CHAPTER : 4Fish Finlay turned in between the pink marble gateposts. It was curious, driving in through the twilight purple of the beeches on the actual ground level of Enniskerry, when the far sharper image of it in his mind was the black and white aerial photograph over the safe in Caxson Reeves’s conference room, when Reeves had finally given in and started to help him.
“This is the stable.” He put his forefinger on the clock tower of a long shingled building across an open courtyard from the turreted Victorian mansion that Dodo called a matchstick monstrosity.
“There’s an apartment in it I can arrange for you to have.”
The purple beeches were a sable rim in the photograph. Reeves’s finger moved up to where the rollers broke with foam-filled crests on the rugged cliff and rested on a
