took a metal plate and cut a design into it, a single complicated groove, and they filled the groove with different kinds of incense, one for each two-hour period. Then they lit one end. People could wake up and know what time it was by the perfume they smelled.”
“Dr. Summerson gave me an incense clock,” Mrs. Summerson said wistfully. “Sung Dynasty.”
I turned the postcard over and stared down at it.
It was postmarked China.
“We never know what time it is,” Orlando insisted. “My time and your time-”
“Hush,” Sonia said. And, miraculously, he did.
It was a normal, junky, third-world postcard, printed on cheap, fiber-flecked paper that had been soiled by many hands.
Eleanor leaned over and kissed me on the ear as I read the signature. It said
I folded the card in half and looked up, catching Hammond in the act of giving me Force Ten Cop Suspicion.
“Do we have time for all six courses?” I asked.
