Mrs Shayler did not come to the office until just after lunch. When she arrived she went straight to a chair by the window with the plants. She looked pale and pained. She said, ‘I can’t go on like this. I can’t. I’ve just painted three thatched roofs blue. It’s unbearable.’
Gina made tea and even held Mrs Shayler’s hand for a few minutes. Although the two women were about the same age Gina treated her client as if they were separated by a generation. Only after watching Mrs Shayler finish her tea and consume a digestive biscuit did Gina ask about events in the Shayler household the previous night.
‘Everything was exactly as per normal. Not a word out of the ordinary. Not a hair out of place.’
‘And did he make a drink?’
‘Horlicks. For sure.’
‘So whatever he’s been up to didn’t happen.’
‘No.’
‘And did you sleep?’
‘Hardly a wink. Once Jack left this morning I collapsed into my chair.’ She demonstrated collapse in the Lunghis’ chair.
‘Mrs Shayler,’ Gina said, ‘my husband followed your husband to work today. And Mr Shayler did not take the route you gave us.’ Gina described Angelo’s observations, including the two-minute stop.
Mrs Shayler was devastated. ‘This can’t go on, Mrs Lunghi. It will kill me. This has to be resolved. It has to be resolved now.’
Angelo appeared in the office at a few minutes before four. He opened the door slowly. He saw there was no computer terminal on his desk. ‘Is it safe?’ he asked.
Gina, who sat at the desk, didn’t say anything to her husband.
Angelo entered the room. ‘Has the computer man been?’
‘He’s with Rosetta,’ Gina said.
‘Is it that Adrian chap?’
‘No. Someone else. He has a moustache.’
‘But he’s still here.’ Angelo considered. ‘I want to be in position for Jack Shayler at five. I can go early.’
‘No,’ Gina said. There was no playfulness in her voice.
‘Gina?’
‘The computer man is running wires through all the walls. Your terminal will be installed tomorrow. We have other business.’
‘You want a cup of tea?’
‘No.’
The signs were of something serious. Angelo sat down.
‘Mrs Shayler,’ Gina began. ‘She wants all stops pulled out. She can’t bear the uncertainty. Whatever it takes.’
‘So what does it take?’ Angelo asked.
‘She wants us to confront him. But first she wants us to put a bug in her telephone.’
‘Did you ring Norse?’ Norse Electronics was the company the Lunghis hired their equipment from.
‘No,’ Gina said.
‘No?’
‘For six more days we have an Adrian Boiling bug of our own. I took it out of our telephone and I set it up at Mrs Shayler’s.’
‘Good,’ Angelo said. ‘Good, good.’
‘But,’ Gina said, ‘I put in a fresh tape.’
‘We have some cassettes, don’t we?’
‘I found them,’ Gina said. ‘It’s all set up at the Shaylers’.’
‘So what plan did you decide?’
‘Tomorrow morning follow the husband again. Then back to the house to check the tape. If something on it explains what’s happening, fine. But if there isn’t, we stop him on his way home from work. You decide where. Maybe at the bench.’
Angelo nodded but said, ‘What do we say to him?’
‘We say we’ve bugged his telephone. We make him ring home and get his wife to look for the bug. We pretend we’re nothing to do with her.’
‘Who are we to do with?’
‘Anybody. We bluff, maybe make threats. Then we leave him.’
‘The idea being?’
‘Because it’s something from the outside that he’s brought into their home, Mrs Shayler can ask him what’s going on.’
‘Where otherwise she couldn’t,’ Angelo said.
‘Where otherwise she couldn’t,’ Gina said.
‘OK,’ Angelo said. ‘So who intercepts Shayler? Me? Sal?’
‘I think both of you.’
‘Good. We can work something up.’ Angelo thought about it. ‘By then we’ll have spent most of her money. But maybe the case will be over.’
‘There’s something else,’ Gina said.
‘What?’
‘When I put the bug in at Mrs Shayler’s, I came back here. And there was nothing much I could do here while the computer man was back and forth everywhere.’
‘So?’
‘So I played the tape.’
‘What tape?’
‘From our telephone last night. The quality was supposed to be so good. I thought I’d check it.’
‘And was it good?’
‘Listen,’ Gina said. There was a cassette player on the desk. She turned it on.
Angelo heard a telephone ring as heard by a caller. ‘Clear,’ he said.
Then the telephone was answered. A male voice said, ‘Yeah?’
‘Terry?’ The caller was Marie.
‘Who the fuck d’you think?’ Terry said.
Marie said, ‘I … I promised I’d ring tonight. Don’t you remember? You said I should.’
‘Did I?’ Terry said. Then, ‘Oh yeah. I remember something, dimly, from the smoke-filled haze hanging over the sunset.’
‘What’s that from?’ Marie asked.
‘Nothing.’
‘I like it,’ Marie said. ‘It’s pretty.’
‘Pretty’s no recommendation,’ Terry said. ‘What do you want?’
‘I said I’d let you know if I was in or not.’
‘In?’
‘Saturday,’ Marie said, losing a little patience. ‘You said you guys needed me.’
‘I don’t remember “need”,’ Terry said.
‘You said it would go better if I was there. You said we’d get more.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ Terry said. ‘Don’t go ratty.’
‘I’m not ratty,’ Marie complained. ‘It’s just if I do it with you guys I’m going to have to lie to my parents.’
‘So?’
‘So nothing,’ Marie said. ‘It’s not a problem. I lie to them all the time.’
‘Well?’
‘Well what?’
‘Are you in or not? Because we can get someone else. If we decide we need somebody.’
‘I’m in,’ Marie said. ‘I need the money.’
‘Ea-sy mon-ey,’ Terry sang. ‘Ea-sy mon-ey.’
‘Yeah,’ Marie said. ‘Easy money. That’s what I want. They make me live on nothing.’
‘Well, there’s plenty there for the taking if we don’t fuck it up. I went down and checked it out this afternoon. It’s a piece of piss.’
‘I looked for you in school,’ Marie said.
‘Schoo-ool,’ Terry sang, ‘ain’t coo-ool.’
‘This better work out,’ Marie said. ‘They’ll kill me if they find out. I’m taking a hell of a chance.’
‘Gotta gamble to win, little girl,’ Terry said.
‘I know,’ Marie said, ‘and I’m not a little girl.’
‘Lit-tle girl,’ Terry sang teasingly. ‘Lit-tle vir-gin and tonic.’
‘You might be surprised,’ Marie said.
‘Just make sure you’re up to it on Saturday.’
‘I’ll be ready,’ Marie said. ‘Just make sure you guys don’t chicken out or screw up.’
‘You talk tough,’ Terry said. ‘But we’ll see. Gotta go. Little girl.’ He hung up.
Gina turned the tape recorder off.
Angelo didn’t know what to think, what to say.
Gina said, ‘Good quality recording, eh?’
CHAPTER SEVEN
Rosetta and David were late sitting down to Thursday dinner. ‘Sorry!’ Rosetta said as they arrived. ‘We were trying the new computer.’
‘It’s great!’ David said, eyes bright.
‘Yuk,’ Marie said.
>
‘No really!’ David said. ‘It’s not like school computers at all.’
‘Yuk-a-rama, dial a llama,’ Marie said.
‘It’s good for the boy to show enthusiasm,’ the Old Man said.
‘Mega-mega-mega-yuk,’ Marie said, but she too appeared animated, if not about miracles of modern electronics.
Gina and Angelo both noticed Marie’s alertness but they could say nothing about what most concerned them. The fault was Angelo’s. He freely admitted it. He had forgotten to tell the family that their phone line was bugged on a seven-day free trial. He’d intended to say something. He never wanted to listen to their conversations. He’d only talked to this Boiling person because of Rosetta. But it was definitely Angelo’s responsibility to tell everyone, and he had failed.
And violation of privacy just didn’t happen in the Lunghi household. It was not talked about but it was universally understood. This was less an Italian thing than an offshoot from the fact that the family violated other people’s privacy for a living. Even though this particular violation had happened innocently it couldn’t possibly be admitted now.
Suddenly understanding of Mrs Shayler’s inability to address her husband directly about the bottle of washing-up liquid became more complete. Families evolved their own rules, whatever they might be. What Angelo saw more clearly now was that transgression of family rules could not be undertaken, or admitted to, lightly. Rule-breaking had consequences. Rule-breaking was dangerous. A family without rules was in chaos. If Marie were to react by running away from home, no one would approve but everyone would understand.
‘It might be nothing,’ Angelo had said to Gina, trying to convince himself. ‘He sounds like an older boy. Marie would say such things to impress him.’
But Gina was uncertain how to take what Marie had said. The tape revealed an underbelly of Marie’s life that had no parallel in Gina’s own teenage history. Raised in Brum, Gina had always been her family’s good child, the one who studied, the one who went away to art college to do a course in textile design. For Gina, dropping out to marry a detective was the closest she’d come to rebellion. Not many girls of Marie’s generation would make their break for freedom by becoming the wife of a man who was himself a dutiful son.
Finally Gina said, ‘At least this Terry is still at school.’
‘What do we do now?’ Angelo asked. ‘Set up surveillance on our own daughter?’
Gina said, ‘Adrian Boiling’s catalogue has a location transmitter with a Velcro strap. We can fit it around her ankle. Choice of colours.’
‘Gina!’
‘We wait and watch. We be patient.’
‘I don’t feel patient.’
‘And we’ve got to be normal at dinner,’ Gina said.
‘I don’t feel normal,’ Angelo said. ‘Suddenly I’m Papa and Salvatore’s heading down a path I know is wrong.’
At dinner Mama was enlivened and distracted by the fact that Salvatore had brought Dr Muffin again. Thus the only person who might have noticed that something was up with Gina and Angelo had other things on her mind. ‘It was so generous of you to bring all this wine!’ Mama said.
‘It’s only three bottles,’ Muffin said. ‘And with this many people, it’s really just a taste.’
‘Very very generous,’ Mama said. ‘A lovely quality.’
‘It was the least I could do, Mrs Lunghi. You’re all being so kind to me. I feel almost a part of the family.’ She patted Salvatore’s hand.
Mama beamed. ‘Call me Mama. Everybody does.’
‘I don’t,’ the Old Man said.
‘Don’t mind him,’ Mama said. ‘He’s putting the world to rights. That always makes him grumpy.’
‘Huh!’ the Old Man said. He was still feeling tired.
Salvatore was deputed to open the wine. Because it had come from a guest, David and Marie were each allowed half a glass.
‘I’d like to propose a toast,’ Muffin said. ‘Is that all right?’ It was. ‘Here’s to the Lunghi family. Beautiful people living in a beautiful city.’
Everybody drank. David said, ‘Hey, this is good.’
‘What would you know about it?’ Marie said. She sniffed her glass. ‘Though it does have a lovely bouquet.’
From his place at the head of the table Angelo began to serve the meal, vermicelli with a mushroom sauce. As the guest, Muffin was served first.
‘I hope you like mushrooms, my dear,’ Mama said.
‘Love them,’ Muffin said.
‘Vermicelli,’ the Old Man said.
‘Wait for it,’ David said.
‘It means “little worms”,’ the Old Man said.
The children giggled. The Old Man always said that.
Muffin said, ‘Vermicelli con funghi alla Lunghi?’
‘Oh yes!’ Mama said. She led the family in a round of applause.
‘Thank you,’ Muffin said, bowing from her chair, ‘thank you, friends.’ Then she said, ‘I’ve been dying to know something.’
‘What’s that, my dear?’ Mama asked.
‘What happened about the man with the bottle of dish-washing detergent? Is it all right for me to ask?’
‘Of course, my dear,’ Mama said.
Angelo, who had followed Jack Shayler, began to recount the developments in the case. But when Mama heard about Shayler’s slippers being left in the bathroom and the used underpants being not properly put in the laundry basket, she interrupted. ‘How old is this husband?’
‘Forty-five, Mama,’ Angelo said.
Mama nodded sagely. ‘A man, when he gets older, he can’t handle so much. He forgets things.’
‘So you don’t think the details are important?’
‘Oh, they’re important,’ Mama said. ‘It means he has other things on his mind, so he can’t remember these. The wife is right to worry. This man, his slippers, it’s a cry for help.’
Muffin asked, ‘Did you follow him home from work too, Angelo?’
‘He left work at 17.06,’ Angelo said. ‘And he stopped at the same bench as in the morning. He got there at 17.10, and he sat till 17.15. And what do you think he did?’
‘What?’ Muffin asked, but Angelo looked around the table.
‘Fed the birds?’ Mama suggested.
‘Looked at the birds?’ Salvatore said.
Angelo said, ‘He checked his watch four times.’
‘Wow!’ Muffin said.
‘What’s it all about, Dad?’ David asked.
‘What do you think?’ Angelo asked his son.
‘Well,’ David said, ‘he might be waiting to meet someone there. Someone who walked home from school that way.’
‘School?’ Marie asked derisively. ‘He’s really going to be meeting someone from a school.’
‘Walked home from work, I meant,’ David said. ‘Unless he’s a perv.’
‘The phone box,’ Rosetta said. ‘The bench is by a phone, right?’
‘Right,’ Angelo said. He could not prevent himself from glancing at Marie. Marie smiled.
‘So it’s a woman,’ the Old Man said.
‘But would she call him?’ Rosetta asked.
‘Why not?’ Muffin said.
‘She can’t call him at home and she can’t call him at work. So she calls him at the phone box.’
‘Why doesn’t he call her?’ Rosetta asked. ‘If he’s already at the telephone.’
‘She’s sneaking around too?’ Angelo said.
‘He’s an accountant, right, this Shayler?’ the Old Man asked. Then his own question reminded him of something.
‘That’s right, Papa,’ Gina said. ‘And we don’t know anything about his life other than at work and at home.’
‘Hey, before I forget,’ the Old Man said.
‘What, Papa?’ Angelo asked.
‘Rosetta, that solicitor of yours.’
Rosetta flushed. The rest of the table went quiet.
The sudden stillness surprised the Old Man. He said, ‘Did I get it wrong? He
’s a solicitor, isn’t he?’
Rosetta said, ‘He is a solicitor, Papa. He does conveyancing.’
‘I haven’t seen him lately. Where is he?’
‘Away, Papa.’
‘Away? Where?’
‘On a trip.’
‘For long?’ the Old Man said.
‘Yes,’ Rosetta said firmly. ‘For a long time.’
‘Oh well,’ the Old Man said. ‘Can’t be helped.’
Mama said, ‘Have you had enough Parmesan, Muffin?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Muffin said. ‘Mama.’
Salvatore said, ‘This telephone. Is there another phone on Shayler’s route?’
Angelo considered. ‘Yes, on the London Road.’
‘So I say,’ Salvatore said, ‘he was waiting for a call. If he was making one either phone would do.’
Angelo nodded. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘What do you think he did after he left the bench?’
‘A somersault?’ David said. In any case an aspirant for ‘Family Wit’, David was unused to wine.
‘He walked to Bartlett Street, bought a bunch of yellow freesias and took them home.’
‘A cry for help,’ Mama said.
‘Maybe even a shout,’ David said.
‘Sshhh,’ Gina said to her son.
‘Well, I think this man is totally disrupted,’ Mama said. ‘He tells his wife the truth about his route, but something recent changes it. This something, it’s important. It upsets him. He’s distracted. I think this wife is right to be worried. A good wife notices details.’
‘Huh!’ the Old Man said.
‘Have some more wine,’ Mama said. ‘It’s very good. You can relax. Sleep tonight.’
The Old Man held out his glass.
‘May I have a little more too, please, Gran?’ David asked. ‘Just a little. I’ve done all my homework.’
After the meal Salvatore suggested that he and Muffin go to the Rose and Crown for a drink.
‘Really?’ Muffin said. She was obviously thrilled. ‘To work on the case? Really?’
‘We thought Sal might have invited you along last night,’ Gina said.
‘Oh, I wouldn’t have been able to,’ Muffin said. But she did not expand on her alternate track of holiday activities.
Vlad, the barman at the Rose and Crown, recognized Salvatore immediately. He hailed a buxom blonde woman with blue eyes and dimples who was also serving behind the bar. ‘This is Cheryl,’ Vlad told Salvatore. ‘Cheryl, this is the detective who was in here last night.’
Family Business Page 6