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stopped. "You and I both know I might have to go into some pretty dark rooms eventually. If that's the case, I want Felix with me, much as you don't like him."
    She turned and held my hands in hers. "Last November, when we watched that documentary on Winston Churchill, the night I wanted to watch the ice skating, you said something funny about what Churchill did, back when Hitler invaded Russia. What was it?"
    I nodded, impressed once again with Diane's cop memory.
    "Churchill got in a load of trouble when he announced England would become allies with the Soviets, right after Hitler invaded. Some of his colleagues were shocked that a conservative anticommunist like Churchill would actually become an ally of Stalin. Some just wanted Hitler and Stalin to fight it out, to bleed each other."
    "And didn't he say something about making a pact with the Devil in reply?"
    I gave her hands a squeeze. "He said if Hitler invaded Hell, he would at least make a favorable reference to the Devil in the House of Commons."
    Diane attempted another smile. "If Felix assists you, I will at least say nice things about him the next time his name comes up at a staff meeting. Do what you have to do, but try to be discreet." She squeezed my hands back. "Talk to you tomorrow?"
    "Absolutely." I hugged her and she choked, "Sweet God, I love her so much.... "
    "I know you do. Now go in there, because she needs you."
    She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and walked into the emergency room, her shoulders slumped, and I looked around at the snow and lights and homes and wondered where the man was, the man that had brought me out into this night and had ruined two women's lives with less than an hour's effort on his part. Probably near here or in a neighboring town, resting. Was he sleeping? Did he feel guilt? Happiness? A satisfied glow? A lot of questions, and nothing but hard work and dismay ahead for me. I put my hands back into my coat pockets, shivered in the snow and walked back across the lot. 
     
     
     
     
    At home I boosted up the heat and saw from the kitchen clock that it was almost four in the morning. I made a cup of hot chocolate and went out to the living room, sitting on the rear of the couch. The ride home had been rugged enough, with the poorly plowed roads and the snowfall, and even though my vehicle is a nimble beast on bad roads, I was glad when I got her into the garage. I held the steaming cup of hot chocolate in my chilled hands and looked out the sliding glass doors after opening up the drapes.
    With no lights on, I was looking out in the dark, watching the snowflakes rage down from the night sky. I felt a draft of cold air drift across my bare feet. Now that I was here, alone and in the dark, I had the time to think, and some very loud voices were screaming at me. I tried to tell them to shut up, but I failed. Mostly the voices were saying the same thing, over and over: Are you insane?
    "Maybe so," I said, speaking aloud, but it also seemed so right, back in the parking lot, to help her in return for the so many things she had done for me. But now, sitting alone in my house and watching the snow come down, my voices were demanding to know why I had just agreed to take part in something that could result in a murder, and could result in my being brought up on conspiracy charges, or could even end in my own injury and death if I wasn't careful. Marvelous. Ain't friendship a wonderful thing?
    So I sat thinking, until the hot chocolate was gone and I rubbed the still-warm mug against my cool face, and then I left the mug on the coffee table and went upstairs and crawled back into bed, listening to the wind. I thought some more and made a decision, one that I wasn't particularly proud about. Then I debated for a while on whether to turn on the light and do some reading, and while that debate was going on, I fell asleep.
     
     
     
    I woke up and went back to sleep and repeated the pattern again, until it was nearly eleven a.m. when