He was sitting in what was no longer the rose garden, looking at the walls as the Forbes and Maitlands pottered around him admiring things, when Jerry came up to him.

“Morning. What are you up to?”

Not what I was ordered to do. Alec blew out his cheeks. “Just thinking. I had an interesting chat with Father earlier.”

“Come for a walk,” Jerry said. “You can tell me all about it on the way up to one of those hills.”

“You want to go fell walking?”

“Yes. Let’s.”

“But I thought I should—”

“A walk,” Jerry said. “Please.”

Alec didn’t even know how to respond to that. He didn’t have the strength to think it through. “All right.”

They took the route behind Castle Speight. The air buzzed with life around them, the striation of crickets, the low hum of bees. “That’s Speight Peak,” Alec said, pointing to the bare outcropping that rose ahead through the scrubby moorland. “Is that where you want to go?”

“As long as we can see anyone coming. What was that about your conversation with your father?”

“I told him I wanted to paint the Duchess, as you asked.”

“He wasn’t amenable?”

“No, he was. I told him that she has a wonderful face, that I thought women, people, grow into their faces and become far more interesting to look at as they age because of the way character comes through. And he told me that he thinks she’s lovelier now than when they met. He adores her. He thought I could see what he sees, her inner beauty or whatever you call it, and he was so pleased. He thanked me. It meant something to him, how we spoke. Oh Christ.”

Jerry’s feet crunched on the dry, loose scree of the path. He didn’t speak.

“I feel like a swine,” Alec said. “I know what he did, and what she did. But he loves her. And he wants, I will swear he wants to repair relations between us. He all but offered to give me an allowance so I could marry Penny. And he let Cara die in London. Oh God, I don’t know what to do.”

“If you could work out a way to remove half your heart and soul and lend them to me, we might both be normal people. Jesus Christ, Alec.” Jerry kicked a stone out of his path with some force. “All right, before anything else, we need to straighten this out. To recap: you and Lazarus needed me and Temp here because we can get into the Duchess’s safe. When her late husband was shot, a valuable emerald ring was stolen from the corpse, and the ring probably points to the killer. She has jewel mania, and an overweening sense of entitlement. I think you believe that the Duchess killed him, you expect to find the ring in her safe, and your plan all along has been to retrieve it to use as evidence of murder. How am I doing?”

Susan hadn’t wanted to share any of their mission with the Lilywhite Boys, but there was no point arguing. Alec nodded. Jerry gave a sharp puff of breath. “Lazarus will use the ring, if it’s there, to demand a new investigation into the death, one not directed by the Duke. You won’t get him for what he did to your mother, but you’ll get the Duchess, and that will be punishment.”

“We may get him too,” Alec said. “Susan found the maid who discovered Mother’s body. She said that when she came in, the pillow on the floor was stained in the middle, but by the time she returned to the room, the pillowcase had been removed. She asked about it—it was her job to account for the linen—and was given her notice the next day. She made a statement to a policeman at the time of Clayton’s death because she wasn’t ready to believe in two dead inconvenient spouses. That was the officer to whom the coroner gave short shrift at the inquest. Susan’s found him too, and they’re both ready to take the stand. All together there might be enough for a prosecution, especially if the Duchess admits anything. I don’t know if there’s enough to convict, but—if we’re right—at least there will be a trial. At least people will know what they did.”

“And that’s what you want?”

“It’s what I wanted,” Alec said. “It was the only thing I wanted for so long. I loved Cara, you can’t know how much. She was my best friend. She knew me, and she loved me, and she’s gone just as Mother’s gone and—I needed him to pay for what he did.”

“And now?”

“You were right. I had no idea what it would cost.”

Jerry nodded, pacing at his side, apparently tireless as the path began to rise. The air was so clean here, so clear. Alec didn’t think he’d feel clean or clear ever again.

“Is this what Cara would have wanted?” Jerry asked after a while. “You to act as her avenger?”

“God, yes. She saw Father go into the room and leave Mother dead and it affected her life more than any of ours. She made us all promise we’d never forget, that if there was ever a chance to make him pay we’d take it. She was talking to Susan about it before she died. Susan came up with the plan, and asked me if I’d be willing to play my part, and I said yes.”

“It seems to me that you’re more than playing a part,” Jerry said. “How did Lazarus come into it in the first place?”

“She and Cara were friends—through a women’s suffrage group, initially. They became very close. Cara always made her laugh.”

“Good Lord. I didn’t know she could.”

“Susan’s marvellous,” Alec said. “I don’t think I would have managed after Cara’s death without her. I couldn’t eat or sleep, and she was the only person who understood that it wasn’t just grief. Annabel was devastated, and George was guilty, but Susan was angry. I needed that.”

Jerry nodded slowly. “And it didn’t seem like a good idea for you to tell me the truth at any point. Not at first, I quite understand that, but—not later, either?”

“You told me you aren’t a good man. You said you were in it for the jewels.”

“I’m not. And I did say that.”

“Should I have ignored you?” Alec asked. “Should I have taken a risk that you’d be the man you’ve barely let me see, rather than the one you keep telling me you are? That’s not a rhetorical question, Jerry; I want to know. Should I have wagered everything on whether you’d forgive me for deceiving you? Whether you’d put yourself into Susan’s hands for my sake? Whether Mr. Lane would?”

“No. Obviously not. Of course you shouldn’t have.”

“I wish I had,” Alec said more quietly. “I wish I’d told you anyway.”

“So do I. I wish you hadn’t lied to me over months. I wish you hadn’t deliberately set me up to walk into a trap, and once you had done so, I wish you had given me a choice instead of forcing me into a corner.”

“I know.” Alec’s throat hurt. “I’m sorry. I’ve let the ends justify the means all the way through this. I shouldn’t have.”

“Of course you should.”

That was so entirely unexpected that it took Alec a second to make sense of the words. “What do you mean?”

“I may wish you’d done things differently, but you shouldn’t have,” Jerry explained, as if to a slightly slow pupil. “What else were you to do? I would unquestionably have been a shit about it if you’d told me, just as I have been at every single opportunity when a better man might have understood, or listened, or thought of you instead of himself. I knew damned well there was something up: it was staring me in the face all along. You wouldn’t have been in a position to betray me if I’d thought about matters, rather than contorting myself to avoid facing up to what was between us, and you couldn’t possibly have told me the truth until I had done so.”

“But—”

“Tell me something. Suppose I had said to you, ‘I don’t believe in this jewel theft of yours, I know you’re up to something, but let me help you anyway.’ Would you have told me the truth then? If I had told you that you could trust me, or asked you to?”

Alec thought about it and, reluctantly, nodded. “I...think so. Probably. Yes.”

“Quite. But I didn’t. I’m sorry, Alec.”

“I thought you were never sorry.”

“So did I. Apparently I was wrong, because I am, though I don’t see any reason in the world that you should forgive me.”

“For what?” Alec asked, somewhat breathlessly. The hill was steep, and Jerry’s pace wasn’t slackening.

“Christ, do you have to ask? Going backwards: I’m sorry about last night, that I manhandled you because I couldn’t find words to talk to you. I’m bitterly sorry for what I said when you came in with Lazarus. I haven’t been ashamed of myself in years, but I’m ashamed of that. I’m sorry you couldn’t tell me the truth, and I’m sorry to be a man to whom you couldn’t tell the truth, and I’m sorry you had to ask me even to look at you because I didn’t have the spine to kiss you. Is that everything? No: I’m sorry about that incident under Waterloo Bridge, which put you in entirely unnecessary danger for my enjoyment. I don’t know why you haven’t pushed me off this hill yet.”

“I don’t want to.”

“And that’s the problem,” Jerry said. “Don’t think I am dismissing your sister, or the wrong done to your family, but you shouldn’t be doing this, Alec. You should never have done this. You have a heart and a soul, and neither of them ought to be soiled with this filthy business of betrayal and incrimination. Lazarus is a ruthless woman—”

“She’s my friend.”

“She may be, but I’ve tangled with her and her father or whatever he is before now. They use people.”

“So do you.”

“It takes one to know one. I promised you I don’t spoil my tools, didn’t I? I didn’t manage to keep that either. Ah, Christ. What can I do?”

“In what way?” Alec asked cautiously.

Jerry grabbed his hand, tugging him to a stop. They stared at each other on the hillside, the breeze whispering at the damp curls at Alec’s neck, over his face.

“Whatever you want. If you want to pull out now, to find a way to explain to your siblings and try to put Humpty Dumpty back together, I’ll do my best to help. If you insist on proceeding, I will open the damned safe, and do whatever I can to shield you from the consequences. If you would prefer never to see me again, I’ll heed that. Tell me what you want, Alec. Not what Cara would have liked, or what Susan Lazarus dreamed up, or what your father deserves, and least of all what you think I hope to hear. Just what you want. Tell me, and I will do anything in my power to bring it about.”

“Why?” Alec whispered.

“Because you made me sorry. Because I want to know what it’s like to kiss you when we’re not fucking. Because I’d like to be the man you draw. That is, to be the man you think of when you’re doodling, but even more, to be the man in that picture, the one who looks as though he deserves you. When I looked at that—when I saw how you see me and I realised—” Jerry tipped his head back, staring at the sky. “Oh, damnation. I am not going to say I want to protect you from the cruel world because I’m not entirely witless yet, but if I don’t do something to right things between us I’ll go mad. Because I love you.”

Alec stared. Jerry grimaced. “Christ, your expression. Is it really that implausible?”

“Uh.” Alec had no idea what to say. He’d never heard I love you except from his mother and Cara. He’d never expected it this way. He wouldn’t in a thousand years have expected it from Jerry. “I...”

“You don’t need to say anything; I wasn’t expecting you to fall into my arms. This mess is my fault, I’m well aware. You’ve been open all along—with one significant exception, of course—whereas I’ve done nothing but hide my face from you. A face which had to be very firmly rubbed in the mess I helped create, I may add, before I understood why my whole world turned to ash when I thought you’d betrayed me.”

“But I did betray you,” Alec said. “That’s exactly what I did. I lied to you, and I misled you, and I brought Susan down on you, and—and when I asked you to look at me, that time, it wasn’t out of courage or anything like. It was because you knew I was hiding something, and I couldn’t think what else to say.”

“I’m well aware of that. I’d have known it at the time if I hadn’t been so keen to believe that you wanted my kisses. You couldn’t have lied to me if I hadn’t been lying to myself.”

“No,” Alec said. “That’s not right. I did want you to kiss me, to look at me, even if I didn’t ask it for the right reasons. I wouldn’t have had the nerve to say anything if I hadn’t had to.”

“And yet you found the nerve, which is more than I did,” Jerry said. “Damn it, Alec, you’ve been telling me the truth since we met—the real truth, not nonsense about rings and murders. You kept other people’s secrets, but you gave me your own.”

“But my secrets don’t matter.”

“They’re the only ones that matter,” Jerry said with breathtaking certainty. “To hell with dukes. You gave me your truth all along, with a courage I can’t begin to match, and I don’t have anything to offer in return except my own stab at honesty for what it’s worth. And the truth is that I love you. That I’ve been coming to love you for so long, and with so little care and attention on my part, that by the time I realised you’d walked off with my heart and soul it was already too late.” He gave Alec a smile that looked almost embarrassed. “A pathetic performance considering I pride myself on my sharpness, but they do tell us pride comes before a fall. And thus I find myself in Othello’s position, like the Indian who ‘threw a pearl away richer than all his tribe’, because I’m a fucking idiot who needs kicking. Please don’t say anything,” he added, unnecessarily, because Alec could barely breathe. “I don’t want you to. I’m not asking, and you’re not obliged. But you’ve trusted yourself to me in too many ways and I would feel a great deal happier if you’d let me earn some of that trust, if only belatedly.”

Alec took off his hat, shoving his hair back from his sweaty forehead. “I. Uh.”

Jerry gave him a wry look. “Should we get up this hill?”

“Let’s,” Alec said, with relief.

They climbed in silence, taking the path as it curved, pushing on as earth turned to stone and scrubby grass to heather, yellow and purple. The path opened at last, and Jerry whistled softly as they came onto the height of the Peak.

“My God,” he said softly.

The country spread around them. Castle Speight below, more convincingly medieval from this distance and angle; below it the downlands opened out, bright green, traced with drystone walls. Behind them were the Bowland fells, barren-looking moors studded with gritstone, rising and falling jaggedly, stretching out and up forever, bleak and empty and beautiful.

“God,” Jerry said again. “A man could be happy here.”

“That’s not what most people say.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Most people want flowers and gardens, or trees. Or at least a landscape that cares if you live or die.”

“But that’s what’s so marvellous,” Jerry said. “It truly doesn’t. This is... Christ, it makes one feel tiny under the heavens.”

“That’s what I love. You can’t be consumed with your problems up here, in a landscape that hasn’t changed in thousands of years. Everything down there is awful and complicated, but up here it’s stripped back to bare bones. Back to what matters.”

“And what is that?” Jerry asked.

Alec tipped his face back, feeling the sun. “You said you wanted to kiss me.”

Jerry contemplated him, face very serious. He stepped forward and took Alec’s face in his hands with intense care, and their lips met almost chastely. A soft exchange of touch and breath and warmth, a gentle movement to find the connection. Alec let his hands rest on Jerry’s hips, opened his mouth to the kiss. Jerry groaned quietly, but he didn’t press further. He seemed content to kiss, slow and intent, hands sliding to Alec’s shoulders, and Alec sank into the sensation, feeling his battered heart open like the moors under the sky.

He had no idea how long they kissed. Jerry took his hand at one point and led him to the big flat stone that topped the peak. They sat together, shoulder to shoulder, looking out over the moors and the empty land in silence until Jerry tugged up his hand, kissed it, kissed him again, and Alec ended up sprawled over the sun-warmed stone as blissfully as on any feather-bed. Jerry lay over him, braced by an arm, and there they were, as gently together as though there were no fear of interruption, no safe to crack, nothing but two sets of need and longing, melting into one another and soothing each other’s sores.

“God,” Jerry said at last, brushing the hair out of Alec’s eyes. “Out of interest, what happens if we head out over the fells and don’t stop walking?”

“A cliff edge.”

“Damn.” He sat up, and gave Alec a hand to do the same, then moved to brush the lichen off his jacket. “I have no idea where my hat is.”

“Down on this side.” Alec had put both hats out of the way of the treacherous wind. “Jerry?”

“Mmm?”

“Do you mean it?”

Jerry rested his elbows on his thighs. “Everything I said on the way up? Yes. I love you. I don’t know if you want me to, or if you even believe me, and I don’t blame you if you don’t.”

“I want you to. I...think I believe you.”

“Don’t rush into it. I’ve no idea what I’m doing, and I don’t deserve you anyway. I can’t imagine why you haven’t been swept away by someone honest and decent and just perverse enough for your enjoyment.”

“Honest, decent people probably aren’t that perverse.”

“Nonsense. There are dozens of perfectly good respectable men who’d enjoy taking you in hand. And, conversely, dozens of thieves and fences and magsmen who would shudder at the idea. Your tastes don’t require a criminal mind.”

“Your criminal mind does very well.” Alec brushed his finger over a little bloom of yellow lichen, growing outward in round scabs. “Are you truly not angry about what I did?”

“I’m not going to deny I found it somewhat trying,” Jerry said. “I shall consider it a salutary reminder that you’re a bad man to cross.”

Alec’s mouth opened. “I am not. That’s you.”

“Alec, my sweet, you trampled me, Temp, and your family underfoot, and no less effectively because you did it in velvet slippers. I’m genuinely impressed. And, let’s face it, I’m in no position to complain about other people’s wrongdoing.”

“There is that,” Alec agreed. “You never said why you do it—your line of work, I mean.”

“Oh, well.” Jerry leaned back on the stone, propped on his elbows. “Idleness, disinclination to sell my labour to a plutocrat, spite. Ha. Do you know, I actually believed you when you told me that was your motivation?”

“Why is it yours?” Alec pushed.

“It’s the usual tedious tale. Do you really want to know?” Jerry clearly read the answer in his face, because he sighed. “If you must. How it started... I joined the army at eighteen. The devil with university, I couldn’t wait to go. I had ambitions for Afghanistan, the North-West Frontier, the Great Game. Grammar-school boy on the make, you know.”

Alec could imagine it: Jerry, weatherbeaten and keen-eyed, on some bare mountain peak, looking over the world, scheming for his country. “Oh.”

“Mmm. But then—well, bluntly, my commanding officer selected me for the honour of being his latest fuck, and made it clear that my life would become unpleasant if I didn’t oblige. I should doubtless have reported him for improper advances, but I couldn’t. For one thing, it would be my word against his and he was well connected; more, though, I harboured some sort of fellow feeling for a fellow queer, even if he was a prick. It seemed wrong to ruin a man’s career for tastes I share myself. And, since I’m confessing, I had some idea that ploughing my CO—that being very much what he wanted—might in some way make up for being ordered to do it. Well, it didn’t. And the fellow feeling was just as much a figment of my imagination, because once he’d had enough of me he threw me to the wolves without a second’s hesitation.”

“How do you mean?”

“I found myself hauled into a room of senior brass, informed that allegations had been made but the matter was to be handled privately for everyone’s sake, and given a choice between accepting a quiet dishonourable discharge or facing an open court which would be heavily rigged against me. The reason he was untouchable, I may say, is that he was a marquess’s heir, and a royal cousin. Apparently I was one in a long line of juniors through his career, used and removed with the quiet connivance of people paid to clear up this particular officer’s mess. ‘Weeding out the sodomites,’ someone called it, as if he were performing a public service by seeing who he could screw.”

“My God,” Alec said. “But that’s—”

“All of a piece,” Jerry said over him. “The nobleman does as he pleases and discards his leavings. My commanding officer, your father, Lord Alfred Douglas walking away as Wilde stands in the dock. One law for us and another for them, every time.” He exhaled hard. “I sound like a social reformer, don’t I? If I were a different man I might have become one. As it is, I was fucking furious. I had nowhere to go and an invisible, indelible mark on my record, of the kind that can’t be erased or challenged because it’s a matter of a quiet word, old chap and the job offer is withdrawn. I could have gone to India, as the usual dumping-ground for the Empire’s black sheep, but I didn’t feel like exiling myself, or bullying natives. I wanted to take it out on people who deserved it.

“And then I had word of a man who needed someone to pass as a gentleman, for a job. You might have heard of Harry the Valet?”

“The jewel thief?” Alec said. “I’ve read about him, in the papers.”

“Hasn’t everyone. Yes, well, he needed a hand, I needed money, and I felt like sticking it to the upper classes, so I helped him out and got two hundred pounds for my efforts. I did a couple more jobs with him, since it seemed better than work, but he was too fond of seeing his name in print for my liking and has a weakness for the ladies that I suspect will be his undoing one day. So we parted ways, I met Templeton, and here we are.”

“Yes. Um. Jerry? Were, or are, you and Mr. Lane, uh, together?” He’d wanted to ask that for some time and hadn’t previously found the nerve.

“Lovers? Christ, no. He doesn’t incline that way, and wouldn’t be to my taste if he did. Not only is he a gorilla, he’s a romantic.”

“Mr. Lane? Really?”

“Under the hulking exterior beats the heart of a boy who never sodding grew up. With all that’s past, Templeton still dreams. I stopped dreaming a long time ago.” He paused. “At least, I thought I had. It might be possible to argue I’ve started again.” He smiled at whatever Alec’s face showed, and brushed a quick kiss over his lips. “Anyway. My bond, if that’s the expression, with Templeton is probably that we amplify one another’s more objectionable qualities. He was looking to score points against the world as much as I was, and the idea of living off the idle rich appealed strongly to us both.”

“That sounds rather Robin Hood.”

“Robin Hood gave to the poor. We give to ourselves. Also to locksmiths, servants, police officers et cetera, in vast profusion. The variable key for the Bramah lock cost us a fortune; we had to do those two jobs Lazarus was boring on about to pay for it. Bribes cost; our fence takes, and deserves, a big cut; and jewellers are as much thieves as anyone. You wouldn’t believe the mark-down on gems without provenance. Plus all the effort in learning to drill safes, to pick locks, memorising railway timetables and the layout of stations, dah di dah. Really, a life of crime is not the primrose path it’s cracked up to be.”

“I wish you’d write it up for the paper,” Alec said wistfully. “True Revelations of a Jewel Thief, illustrated, in ten parts. Honestly, it would sell like hot cakes.”

Jerry grinned. “It would certainly dispel anyone’s idea of glamour. I don’t mean to complain; I’ve done very nicely. But that’s it. If you were hoping I’m secretly funding an orphanage or some such, I’m sorry to disappoint: I steal because it pays. Granted, I only steal from people who can afford to be robbed, but that’s not a moral principle. It’s just that poor people don’t have jewels.”

Alec nodded. The breeze had picked up a little; it ruffled his hair and kept the sun from being too oppressive. It would still burn him, no matter how good it felt.

“I think I understand. You were angry, you’re still angry. I’m angry too. I’m just wondering—”

“If the game is worth the candle. I know.”

“If you go to gaol for theft,” Alec said, looking out over the moor. “Or if I see my stepmother in the dock, perhaps even hanged, and know I brought that about, and have my father know it.”

“Not quite the same thing,” Jerry pointed out. “If I’m gaoled it will be because I commit crimes, and that goes for your father and stepmother too. Their acts, their consequences.”

“But it’s my acts if I make them face the consequences they’d otherwise escape.”

Jerry nodded. “It’s as per that chap under Waterloo Bridge, isn’t it? You didn’t want his head kicked in, despite the fact that he clearly deserved it and the lack of other options.”

“There was always not kicking him in the head.”

“No, I can’t see that working at all. Whereas this... I don’t know, Alec. Your mother was murdered, and the fact that it was twenty years ago doesn’t make her less dead, or your father less guilty. But you aren’t an impartial dispenser of justice. This is your father.”

“Cara died. If he hadn’t cut her off—”

“Oh, I’m not arguing. He ought to face justice, if one believes in justice at all. But you’ll be actively responsible for the consequences, you’ll be playing a part in destroying an old man’s life, and while there are people who could count themselves an instrument of Fate, or say, He deserves it and feel nothing more, I don’t think you’re one of them. Ugh. I don’t know.”

“Nor do I. If making the Duke and Duchess face justice could bring Cara back, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second, but it won’t. Susan’s an avenger, she’s quite ready to see him punished—”

“He’s not her father,” Jerry said. “It’s harder to see someone pay for their crimes when you have family feeling, or indeed fellow feeling, for them. The trick is to ascertain whether they have the slightest feeling for you.”

“Yes. That is the trick, isn’t it? What would you do?”

There was a long silence. He twisted round to see Jerry frowning, his eyebrows at a Mephistophelean slant. “Jerry?”

“I’m thinking. Let me mull that one over. Is that a hawk?”

“A red kite.” Alec watched the bird hanging in the sky, riding the air apparently without effort. “I love the way they float.”

“I like the way they drop. Straight down on a mouse which, one must assume, has no idea of the predator fifty feet overhead. Death from above, in a second.”

Alec shuddered. Jerry watched the kite a moment longer, then pushed himself up. “I suppose we should go down for lunch shortly. It strikes me that whatever you decide, the first step is for me to get into that safe and see if the ring is there, because if not, all this soul-searching is moot. Can you go ahead with the sketch?”

Alec nodded. “If she’ll let me. This is probably a stupid question, but could you not steal her key?”

“It’s not a stupid question. I know people who’ve spent hours working on doors while there was a window open in the next room. Sadly, no; her key is treated as the key to a fortune should be. It’s locked in the Duke’s own safe, of which the key is guarded by the butler. The palaver involved in breaking that Russian doll of security would take as long and risk more attention. No; I’ll open the safe while Temp intercepts the servants. What would be ideal is if Lazarus could be persuaded not to be there. It doubles the risk, and frankly, if she’s caught opening the safe, there goes her credibility in the entire business.”

“Yes, I see that. She doesn’t trust you, though.”

“In other circumstances she’d be right not to.” Jerry took Alec’s hand, running his thumb along the knuckles, then brushed a kiss over it. “I meant what I said: I will do what you want through this. I think it would be better to persuade Lazarus to be entirely elsewhere with witnesses while I open the safe, but if you have even the slightest fear I’m running a con on you, then don’t. And this is not a test, Alec, or a challenge, or a request for you to prove something. I’m a dishonest man and you are well within your rights to treat me as such. But I’m also a practical one, and I can see multiple possible outcomes, all of which will go better if Lazarus doesn’t appear to be involved in this game. I suspect she knows that. Decide as you wish.”

Alec wanted to say, I trust you. He almost did. Jerry tugged his hand and rose. “Come on. If you’re sure we can’t walk into the blue, we’d better get back down there.”

Alec stood too. “I suppose so. Jerry? I do want you to love me. I don’t think there’s anything I want more—up here.”

Jerry cupped the back of his head, kissed him gently. “Then you’re in luck. Now all I have to do is make you believe it down there.”