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Ellery said, “Wait. This has happened before?”

“The circumstances were entirely different,” Nora said. “Frank Weeden had been committed to Rhode Island Hospital for Mental Diseases after he tried to shoot his cousin for rejecting his marriage proposal.”

“Nobody likes rejection,” Flip said, er, flippantly.

“He escaped fifteen times over the years.”

“F-F-fifteen times!?” That was Ellery.

“Correct. On his final attempt, he shot and murdered the head of the institution, who he blamed for his being denied parole again.”

“With good reason, I’d say.”

“Yes, there’s little doubt Weeden was a very dangerous individual.” Nora delicately plucked Tosh’s credit card from her hand.

Ellery asked, “Did he try to escape to the island?”

“No. There’s no record of his ever visiting the island at all.”

Kingston said, “Even in June, when Weeden broke out, it would have been very foolish to try to hide out here. In November, it would be madness.”

Nora handed Tosh her bag of books. They smiled at each other in a silent understanding that Ellery couldn’t help feeling was somehow directed at him.

“There are more vacation homes these days. And more empty vacation homes in November,” he pointed out.

Nora and Kingston exchanged looks. “True,” Nora admitted. “But it would also be much more difficult to reach the island undetected.”

“That’s settled. We’re all doomed.” Flip was joking, of course.

Chelsea drawled, “Not Ellery. He’s the Final Boy.”

The others laughed. Kingston looked puzzled.

“A trope in horror—usually slasher—films,” Nora said out of the corner of her mouth. “The Final Girl manages to escape the dreadful fate of her friends or family in order to confront and defeat the evil entity in a final showdown.”

“Ah.Horror.”Kingston didn’t go so far as to grimace, but he was strictly a crime, mystery, and suspense aficionado.

To Watson’s great disappointment, Flip gave the ball one final spin, and rose. “Critics labeled Ellery the Final Boy after the fourthHappy Halloween! You’re Deadfilm.”

Ellery groaned. “Can we not?”

His heartless friends merely chortled at his discomfort.

“Do you know anything about the Dolph case, Nora?” Ellery asked.

“Not really. No.”

“Notreally? So, you knowsomething.”

Nora and Kingston had developed a habit of locking eyes when one of them was trying to recall some obscure factoid of island history. Like two computers interfacing.

Following a second or two of visual API, Nora said, “I don’t believe there have been Dolphs on this island since the 1930s.”

Ellery did a doubletake. “Thereisan island connection.”

“Now that’s a bit of a stretch.” Given that Nora was the queen of drawing conclusions well beyond the reach of ordinary logic or normal reason, her scoffing seemed a little unfair.

Kingston mused, “There’s the legend of the Dourdos Aquamarine.”