"Or I'll just finish yours." Gabe spotted the cup and stole it, flopping down in the chair opposite the detective and digging happily into what remained--just over half--with Skulduggery's spoon.

"Lots," he said, the word muffled by the fact he had a spoonful of ice-cream in his mouth. He put his work-hours on the table. "For one, I'm working tomorrow and for the next two weeks, and probably for as long as I want after that. Two, I need a phone, so we should go do that today. Three, I didn't see Marr at all, but six women have come into the halfway-house since Marr's disappearance and I can only rule out one of them. Four, I can draw us a map of the place if we need it."

He sobered. "But, Skul, we're not just going to be able to go in there and take her out. If she's been staying there, and I'm fairly sure she has, she's been undercover as abused. The staff there are very protective of their wards, and they should be. We're going to have to know for sure she's there and prove to them that she's a terrorist, or else we'll just cement the suspicion they already have toward outsiders. It wouldn't be fair to be heavy-handed. Not after what they've all been through."