The Spotted Dog

by Kerry Greenwood

  His skinny shoulders quivered. ‘Not exactly like that, Corinna.’

  ‘But almost like that, yes?’

  ‘No. Well, okay, yes, I did. I knew it was someone in Insula straight away. I mean, the guy’s a complete amateur. His VPN was pretty easy to crack. I knew it was one of the actors. I’ve been tracing their online footprint ever since. Which one it was I didn’t find out for sure until …’ He paused.

  ‘Until when, Gully?’

  ‘Er, Sunday? Corinna, it was a big job. I’m happy not to be paid cash. But if I’d given him an invoice it would have been a fair bit more than coffee and a meal.’

  ‘So you delayed telling Del Pandamus until you’d got your money’s worth out of him. All right, Gully. That doesn’t make you as bad as that appalling little weasel. But next time you find out something, speak up immediately. You know? Like adults do?’

  ‘Okay. Sorry.’

  I relented. ‘All right, you can go back and finish your meal. Your last free meal from Del, right?’

  ‘Right.’

  He went back inside, and Jason emerged, wide-eyed. As we walked back to Earthly Delights he was very quiet. Finally, he looked at me with surprisingly hot eyes. ‘Cap’n, why would that actor guy do that? He’s had everything easy. You can tell just by looking at him.’

  ‘And listening to him being Lord of the Manor. You’re angry, aren’t you, Jason?’

  He nodded. ‘Yeah. Rich people shouldn’t steal from the poor.’

  ‘The poor steal from the rich because they envy them. The rich steal from the poor because they despise them.’

  We had stopped in the street. I guessed Jason didn’t want to have this conversation in front of an audience. But he was taking it very personally, and I realised why.

  ‘Why did Del let him off?’ he persisted. ‘How come rich kids always get off? When people like me screw up, we get the works because we don’t have rich parents.’

  ‘That, Midshipman, is a good point. But if Del had pressed charges it would have been more work for him. Consider how this will pan out. Stephen’s fellow actors are done with him. Unfortunately, I can’t even kick the little swine out of my building because Daddy owns the apartment. But I think he’s lost three friends for good today. Now, for the rest of this week, I want nothing but calm, baking, muffins and rest. See to it, Midshipman.’

  He saluted. ‘Aye, aye, Cap’n.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Said dog my teeth bite deep

  Whether I wake or sleep

  No friend am I to you beware my leap

  But the cat is gone from the lane

  In the flying leaves and rain

  And the sentry dog is back at his post again.

  DAVID GREAGG, ‘CAT AND DOG’

  The next couple of days passed in an agreeable blur of bread, muffins and tender love-making. At long last I was able to remind myself of what I wanted my life to be like. Uneventful, save for a few carefully chosen events according to my design for living. Nobody attempted to burgle my apartment, nor anybody else’s. The actors had departed on Tuesday, after some embarrassed apologies from Claire, Sam and Luke. I forgave them immediately. After all, it wasn’t their fault Stephen had not the faintest conception of right and wrong. He himself had disappeared without fanfare. I liked to think that he had slid out under the door in the dead of night. The weather remained hot until Thursday, when we had a most agreeable thunderstorm. The Garden of Ceres was thoroughly rain-swept, and after discovering that I had the place to myself I dressed myself in my thinnest nightgown and performed water-nymph dances in the rain. The plants were visibly rehydrating and were turning deeper shades of green with every moment.

  No sooner had I returned to my apartment and attired myself more modestly than the doorbell rang. It was Anwyn.

  ‘Hi, Corinna,’ she said. ‘I just wanted to let you know that Bellamy and I are going back to Adelaide tomorrow. But our embroidery is finished. Would you like to see it?’

  ‘I certainly would! And I think everyone else would too. I suspect that in an hour or two the upstairs garden should have dried off. Perhaps a party is in order?’

  ‘What an excellent idea,’ she said approvingly. ‘Should Therese and I issue the invitations?’

  ‘Please do. Everyone here: even Mrs Pemberthy, of whom you have doubtless heard. Drop into the music shop and ask Marie and Kate, too.’

  ‘Should we all bring dishes?’

  ‘Yes, please. Everyone else here knows what to do. Some meat, some vegetarian, some fish. The usual sort of thing. Meanwhile, I’ll do the setting-up.’

  She departed, and I reached for my phone to invite the Pandamus family, and Daniel and Alasdair. I hoped Geordie would be able to cope with Carolus and the cats. But he was not going to be left out of the general festivities if I could help it. All those of us who had laboured in the toils of the ungodly should share in our victory feast.

  The invitations issued and duly accepted, I began plotting my own culinary contribution. Apricot chicken wings, I decided, plus a dessert surprise of my own …

  By six o’clock I had the trestle table set up. It had white linen tablecloths (mine). It also had transepts, because the table was not going to be big enough for such a large gathering.

  Trudi had arrived first, with plates of poffertjes and appeltaart. She left them on one of the side tables, grinned at me, and disappeared into the undergrowth, re-emerging with a large terracotta pot. She placed it next to one of the chairs and tapped the side of her nose. ‘A special treat for our friends,’ she explained, hardly at all. Del and his family were the next to arrive, bringing tyropitakia, dolmades, horta vrasta and baklava. Del glanced around suspiciously. ‘Corinna,’ he rumbled. ‘That thief of an actor? He is gone, yes? He’s not coming here?’

  ‘It’s all right,’ I assured him. ‘He has vanished without a trace. But even if he were still resident in Insula, he would not be welcome here.’

  Yai-yai’s ancient face creased in a toothless grimace. ‘Satan take him away to Pit of Damnation. Such a bad boy!’ Then she took a cheese-filled triangle and sat down, folding her black shawl around her slender body.

  The lift doors opened to reveal Therese Webb, Anwyn, Carolus and Bellamy. Therese and Anwyn were wearing gowns in light blue and light brown, eminently suitable for their roles as needlewomen of the Dark Ages. There were girdles, with brown leather purses around their midst. Therese had a large platter in each hand; one revealed itself to be a coconut cake, the other a minty beef salad. Anwyn was carrying a long roll of cloth. I guessed this must be the tapestry, which must be admired either before or after, but certainly not during dinner. Her mouth opened in a O of surprise as Bellamy took one look at Trudi’s pot plant, and headed straight for it like a camel at an oasis. He lifted himself up on his back paws, sniffed, and rubbed his cheek against one of the sprays of leaves. Then he climbed right into the pot and draped himself around the bush, inhaling frequently and purring like a small, furry lawnmower.

  Enlightenment belatedly dawned on me. ‘Trudi, is this catnip?’

  She nodded. ‘I show it to Lucifer already, and he tried to knock it over so he could roll on it. I didn’t bring him today. He doesn’t play well with others. But he’s had a good fish dinner already and he sleeps on my pillow.’

  ‘It looks as though it will survive Bellamy, anyway.’

  I looked around. The lift had returned, bringing Kate and Marie hand in hand and, to my amazement, Philomela in a plain black dress. She was walking! And more … ‘Hello, everybody,’ she said.

  I wanted to applaud. Instead, I found a spare chair and ushered her towards it.

  ‘I have been mute, and desperate, and helpless,’ she continued. ‘But then I saw those who have afflicted me on television.’ Her dark eyes glinting. ‘It was the Armenians. The idiots must have mistaken our house for the Aldjanovs’. Every night I went to bed, praying for vengeance. Then, last night, my sister came to me in a dream. She told me to forgive th
em. At first I refused; my heart was hard like the Pharaoh. But she reminded me that I must trust in the Lord to deliver judgment. I realised that she was right. And suddenly I could speak, and stand up, and walk.’

  Marie leant over to embrace Philomela. ‘I am so sorry.’ She turned to face the gathering. ‘The Petrosians are my cousins,’ she explained. ‘Our side of the family wanted nothing to do with any of this. The drugs, the kidnapping, the murders.’ She looked at Alasdair. ‘Or the dog-stealing. Narek and I used to be close when we were growing up. Then he went to live with Uncle Tigran. I begged him not to – I told him this is Australia; we don’t do this here – but he went anyway. From that moment on, I wanted nothing to do with him, either.’ She turned back to Philomela. ‘Sas échoume vlápsei kai eseís. Lypámai polý.’

  Philomela kissed Marie’s cheek. ‘You have nothing to apologise for. We cannot help our bad boys. Or our bad men.’

  Kyria Pandamus, I noticed, was sitting nearby, and she rose to her feet. She took Philomela’s hand. ‘You are a good girl. And now you eat, yes? You’re too thin! Look at you! Here, have some proper Greek food.’

  We left them to it. Sometimes you have to back off when women are determined to come with aid and comfort.

  Anwyn took the opportunity to show off the completed tapestry, and the rest of us admired it. It was magnificent.

  I looked at Therese Webb. She was glowing with pride. These two and Philomela had worked wonders during the last week, while we had been battling gangsters and burglars. I felt that their work was possibly of more lasting value than mine.

  While I was admiring, I found myself joined by Kylie and Goss. They were wearing matching singlets in yellow and pink with very visible black bras, their usual micro-skirts, bare legs and sandals. Had either been of a flirtatious disposition this would have counted severely against their characters, but both were at bottom entirely innocent.

  ‘We brought salads,’ Kylie said brightly. ‘That’s absolutely brilliant. Did you make this?’

  While Anwyn and Therese were proudly showing off their work to Kylie, I gently ushered Gossamer to one side and looked her in the eye. ‘Goss, are you okay?’

  She looked desperately ashamed. ‘I s’pose so, Corinna. Yeah, I heard about – him.’ She could not even bring herself to say Stephen’s name, and the pronoun was pronounced so as to rhyme with scum. She blinked away a few tears from her flawless features. ‘I can really pick them, can’t I?’

  ‘Well, yes, Gossamer. You can pick them. Try to look under the surface next time, hmm? I don’t want to be too all-knowing, but I did find his air of superiority annoying. He addressed us like we were his household servants.’

  ‘But he’s so confident! I wish I was that sure of myself.’

  ‘He won’t ever be so sure of himself again, Gossamer,’ I told her.

  I saw Meroe had arrived in her usual black with a grey shawl and a plate of vegetarian spring rolls (unexpected) and tropical and forest fruits on a tray (entirely expected).

  ‘Blessed be.’ She smiled at me. ‘It is good to have calm in our midst again.’

  ‘I could really get used to this,’ I agreed. ‘A great deal more of the same is all I ask. Do you think it likely?’

  Meroe inclined her chin. ‘I think it probable. But keep the ring. Just in case.’

  I looked down at my hand and realised I was still wearing it. The Ring of Otherworlds seemed to have become part of my life. I took it off last thing at night, and assumed it first thing in the morning without even thinking about it.

  My gaze strayed to the lift door, and it opened once more to reveal Mrs Dawson with her arm securely linked through that of Dion Monk. He carried what looked like a large ham, and they were smiling like a pair of contented lovebirds. Well, well. I had not seen either of them since Monday, but it appeared they had not wasted their time. Fragrant-smelling plates were balanced in their free hands, but they appeared sufficiently unstable to warrant immediate removal to the tables. I refrained from comment. There was not the slightest need for it. I had never seen either of them looking so blissfully content. Excited conversation filled the rooftop garden, but they were in a small, sunny world entirely their own, and glowed companionably together. Meroe looked at them with a smile of saintly benevolence, and wandered off to the tables for refreshment.

  When the lift doors opened again, there was Daniel, Alasdair and Geordie. Bellamy disappeared into the undergrowth like a small, furry missile. Carolus he had learned to treat, if not as a brother, at least as a tolerated cousin. This spotted animal was too much to cope with. Carolus, meanwhile, blinked, took a few tentative steps forward, and stopped dead. Geordie was sniffing hard. Alasdair put his hand on Geordie’s head and issued some words of command in Gàidhlig. At once Geordie sat down on his paws and looked up expectantly. Carolus wagged his tail uncertainly and withdrew behind Therese Webb’s chair.

  Daniel meanwhile was pouring drinks and handing them around. I took one: ice-cold sauvignon blanc from the Marlborough Sounds. I drank, and watched in alarm as Bellamy emerged slowly from the undergrowth and advanced towards the foe. He walked straight up to Geordie’s nose, hissed, and batted at it with a lightning paw. Geordie flicked his nose safely out of the way and uttered a small whine of complaint. Alasdair placed his hand on Geordie’s head once more and whispered more endearments.

  ‘Bellamy! Bad cat!’ Anwyn’s voice rang out.

  Bellamy turned towards her. Me? What do you mean Bad Cat? I’m a Good Cat! He turned his back on Geordie and returned to the potted catnip. Within a few seconds he had forgotten everything but the glorious aroma of Nepeta, and resumed his position wrapped around the base of the bush.

  I caught Trudi’s eye. She nodded in quiet triumph. The pot had been the perfect ice-breaker for this meeting.

  Daniel leant over and kissed me. I returned the kiss, with interest.

  Looking over the party, people were already eating and drinking freely. I realised that I was hungry.

  I managed to secure some of my apricot chicken wings before they disappeared entirely, and worked my way through three tyropitakia and two dolmades. I noticed that Jason had appeared without fanfare and, beginning at the eastern transept, was motoring his way steadily through the bill of fare as if he hadn’t eaten for weeks. I honestly do not know where he puts it all.

  For a while I stood back and looked around my party and sighed with contentment. Was anything lacking? Everyone was so pleased to see each other. Except – wait a moment. The door opened, and there was Mrs Pemberthy herself, dressed in a ludicrously unseasonal twinset in brown and ochre. In her hand she carried a plate of what appeared to be rock cakes. At her feet was Traddles the Eternally Annoying. He made a beeline for Geordie, who stood up straight and examined him with a critical eye. Traddles stopped dead and retreated behind his mistress’s ankles. I handed Mrs P a drink, which she accepted, pursing her thin lips.

  ‘Thank you, Corinna,’ she said grudgingly, and lowered her voice to a malevolent whisper. ‘Honestly, those girls of yours are a disgrace. This is a civilised garden party, not a pornographic film set. Whatever were they thinking?’ Her voice trailed off into silence, and her eyes hardened like highly suspicious concrete.

  Following her gaze, I saw she was directing her basilisk eye at Dion Monk and Mrs Dawson, shamelessly basking in mutual adoration and holding hands.

  ‘Well!’ she snapped, and moved away to disapprove and sizzle in the comfort of her own society next to the wall.

  I realised that I had been right to invite her. Without Mrs Pemberthy’s ill wishes our party would have been too bland for words. We could survive her disapproval. Indeed, we cherished it.

  I saw Cherie Holliday and her father arrive laden with two enormous picnic baskets and similarly large smiles. And I thanked the gods and goddesses who look down upon us for the joyfulness of life.

  I even went to the side table and tried one of Mrs P’s rock cakes. They appeared to have been baked out of plutonium.
I offered a bit to Geordie, but he shook his head and wandered off to look for something more edible. I didn’t blame him. But our tables contained more delights I had not noticed until then. There was some splendid fruit sorbet to take away the taste, and I spooned myself a bowl. Frozen citrus and forest fruits caressed my mouth and throat. There, there, they seemed to be whispering to me. We’ll save Mrs P’s rock cakes until we really are under attack and need missiles for our siege catapults.

  Just then, I noticed Philomela walking towards me and smiling. Where once she had resembled a Greek goddess of vengeance and divine fury, she now looked serenely Olympian. She sat next to me and began to recite. I opened my mouth in astonishment, because I recognised the words. It was Prospero’s Farewell at the very end of The Tempest. In a clear, accented, level tone she recited:

  Now I want

  Spirits to enforce, art to enchant,

  And my ending is despair,

  Unless I be relieved by prayer,

  Which pierces so that it assaults

  Mercy itself and frees all faults.

  As you from crimes would pardoned be

  Let your indulgence set me free.

  This was the veriest of happy endings for her. And I rejoiced.

  As she rose from her chair to join Therese and Anwyn, her place was taken by Alasdair. He had a plate of Greek food and was discovering it was, much to his astonishment, delicious.

  ‘Now you’ve got Geordie back, what are you intending to do?’ I enquired. He dropped half a spiced meatball into Geordie’s mouth and smiled.

  ‘Ah’ve go’ a friend in a place called Hepburn Springs. He’s running a bed and breakfast and he tells me he could dae wi’ a hand. He’s an ex-squaddie like meself. Ah’ve never heard of the place. What’s it like?’

  ‘I think you’ll love it, Alasdair. It’s quiet, hilly, and utterly beautiful. There are mineral springs there, and wineries, and lavender farms.’

  ‘It sounds wonderful. Quiet would be juist what we both need right now.’ He stroked Geordie’s head in contentment.