I drove home, musing the entire way, wondering how Crew and I could manage to get into the marina and dive for the evidence I'd seen last August, a chance to investigate the compass I knew was carved into the stone under the main pier at the yacht club. We'd both tried a couple of times to find a good excuse to do so, but neither of us could come up with a valid reason. I hadn't given the hoard much thought in the last little while, my mind more taken up by Siobhan Doyle, by ...