Family Business

by Michael Z. Lewin

  ‘But you’re not the one who came to the house this afternoon,’ Cheryl said.

  ‘That was my brother,’ Salvatore said.

  ‘Really? Is everybody a detective all of a sudden?’

  ‘My brother and I are trying to find out what this other guy is up to showing pictures of your friend Kit,’ Salvatore said.

  ‘I told your brother what happened,’ Cheryl said.

  ‘Well, he said that you told him the guy in the black mac gave a copy of the picture to a woman who was in the pub that night.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘And that you said the woman is a regular?’

  ‘Oh yeah. Bonnie’s a regular.’

  ‘Is she here?’

  ‘No,’ Cheryl said. ‘But hang around. She comes in most nights before closing time.’

  The subject of the slimy detective had come up toward the end of the meal. Salvatore recounted what he had found out on his pubcrawl of the night before. When he finished, the Old Man said, ‘Who’s paying, all this time, all these drinks?’

  ‘We need to make sure nobody confuses this strange detective with us, Papa,’ Gina said. ‘And something’s definitely not right about it.’

  ‘We’ve got to protect the good name you built up, Papa,’ Angelo said.

  ‘Soft soap,’ the Old Man said. But he was always pleased when his achievements were recognized in front of guests. ‘So what’s not right?’

  ‘This detective is trying to find a woman,’ Gina said.

  ‘He should ask your brother-in-law,’ the Old Man said carelessly.

  Gina said, ‘He has a picture, but he only shows it to women in these pubs.’

  ‘He has copies, but he never leaves one with the bar staff,’

  Angelo said. ‘If he expects to find her in a pub, why not leave a copy and his phone number?’

  ‘Except,’ Gina said, ‘one time he gave out a copy of the picture.’

  ‘The barmaid friend told me this afternoon,’ Angelo said. ‘She saw him give one to a woman in the Rose and Crown.’

  ‘When we try to find someone,’ Gina said, ‘we make things simple, easy for people to help us. With this man he makes everything difficult, a mystery.’

  ‘And he has knobbly hands,’ Salvatore said.

  ‘Knobbly hands and a black mac,’ Marie said. ‘I bet he goes to pubs because he can’t get anyone to go out with him. Yuk!’

  ‘They’d have to be desperate, like you,’ David said.

  ‘You’re the desperate one around here, shrimp-seed,’ Marie said loftily. ‘But stick with it, poor little David. Maybe one day you’ll find a girl with no sense of smell who will go out with you if you pay her!’

  ‘Children!’ Gina said, as David was trying to frame a retort.

  ‘But it won’t be easy money for her,’ Marie persisted. ‘Ea-sy mon-ey!’ she sang. ‘Not!’

  ‘Marie!’

  ‘Sorry, Mum,’ Marie said, without evident sorrow.

  Angelo sat staring at his daughter.

  ‘There is something wrong about this detective,’ Gina said, insisting on a return to the subject. ‘What he does is just not how you look for someone. Not if you know what you’re doing.’

  ‘So,’ the Old Man said, ‘maybe he doesn’t know what he’s doing. This country you can call yourself a detective, but it doesn’t prove anything.’

  ‘Is that right?’ Muffin asked. ‘Don’t you need a licence to be a private detective here?’

  ‘To get married, a licence,’ the Old Man said. ‘To fish, a licence. To drive. To fly.’

  ‘To be an artist,’ David interrupted.

  ‘What?’ the Old Man said.

  ‘Artistic licence,’ David said.

  ‘I mean it, David,’ Gina said.

  ‘To own a big dog,’ the Old Man said, ‘a licence. But a private detective? Nothing!’

  ‘Gosh,’ Muffin said.

  ‘So,’ Salvatore said, ‘what we’ve got is an incompetent detective.’

  ‘He’d starve, the skills he shows,’ the Old Man said. ‘Or maybe his father owns the agency and he thinks he deserves a living no matter what. Maybe he’s in for a surprise one day. Huh!’

  ‘Finish your plate,’ Mama told the Old Man. ‘Gina will think you don’t like it.’

  ‘It’s good, Gina,’ the Old Man said, picking up his fork. ‘It’s good. You always make food good.’

  ‘Thank you, Papa,’ Gina said.

  ‘Bubba,’ Salvatore said, ‘you saw the model today too, right?’

  ‘Yes,’ Angelo said. ‘But only for a minute. She was on her way to a modelling job.’

  ‘Bikinis?’ David asked. Everybody turned to him. David hid his face.

  Marie giggled. ‘That’s what happens when you waste good wine on him!’

  ‘The model had an interview for a clothing catalogue job,’ Angelo said. ‘She was on her way out. But then I checked with her agency. No “detective” has asked for her there.’

  ‘So do you think,’ David said, ‘that maybe this defective isn’t a detective at all?’

  Again everyone looked at David.

  ‘What do you think, Sally?’ Angelo asked.

  ‘From the mouths of tipsy babes,’ Salvatore said.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  After dinner David and Rosetta returned to the new computer in Rosetta’s office. But while it was booting up, David said, ‘Auntie Rose, why isn’t Walter around?’

  Rosetta had consumed a good deal of Muffin’s wine and was feeling no pain. She said, ‘Because he’s a pig.’

  David didn’t know whether to smile.

  Rosetta warmed to the subject. ‘And he’s a donkey and a turd and a scorpion and a pot of goat-spray!’

  David giggled. Responding to her audience’s appreciation Rosetta said, ‘I should have know all along he was duplicitous.’

  ‘He was what?’

  ‘A tricky, deceiving, grotesque imitation of a human being. It’s what I should have expected from a solicitor.’

  ‘A solicitor,’ David repeated.

  ‘A conniving, canoodling carpet snake of a conveyancing solicitor. But at least he’s gone and good riddance!’

  ‘Where has he gone?’

  ‘Who knows? And who cares?’ Rosetta said. ‘But I’ll tell you where he should go, where they all should go. What should happen to all conveyancing solicitors.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The City Council should get a big old uncomfortable bus and they should load all the conveyancing solicitors into it and they should convey them somewhere. That’s what they should do. They should convey them all somewhere dark and wet and radioactive. Somewhere it takes a long time to get to, because taking a long time is what they know best how to do, and even then they let you down.’

  ‘I’ve got an idea!’ David said. ‘Let’s do a computer program that gets rid of solicitors!’

  ‘Good thinking!’ Rosetta said. ‘Destroy them through their modems. Spreadsheet them out of existence.’ She paused. ‘How?’

  ‘There must be something we can do with the graphics,’ David said.

  ‘You want the graphics? Coming up!’ Rosetta said, and they turned to the new machine.

  ‘Do you think this Muffin is the one?’ Mama said as she helped Gina load dinner dishes into the dishwasher.

  ‘Don’t get your hopes up, Mama.’

  ‘Did you see something wrong with her?’

  ‘A lot of Sally’s women have been nice,’ Gina said. ‘The problem’s not with them. It’s him who will have to change if he’s going to settle down.’

  ‘But he would settle with the right one, don’t you think?’ Mama said. ‘And this Muffin is not like the others. She has a thesis. And she’s so interested in the work.’

  Gina nodded, saying nothing.

  ‘Is something wrong with her?’ Mama asked.

  Gina thought about Muffin’s unknown activity the previous night. There were a hundred possibilities. Like, she went to the Theatre
Royal with someone she met in her hotel. Or she met friends of her parents. Or maybe she did whatever all the other tourists who come to Bath in the summer do at night. Go to the cinema? Seek out one of those awful pizza chains Marie’s friends liked so much? But why not say so?

  ‘Gina?’ Mama said.

  ‘I don’t think anything’s wrong with her,’ Gina said. ‘She seems about perfect.’

  ‘Me, I think so too. And she can learn to model,’ Mama said. ‘Now, if only I could get my Rosetta settled.’

  At the dining-room table Angelo sat with Marie and the Old Man. The Old Man was dozing. Fishing for reassurance that he understood at least something about his daughter Angelo said, ‘I’m surprised you didn’t fix a day with Muffin before she left.’

  ‘A day for what?’ Marie said.

  ‘You made a bet with her. It’s not like you to forget money.’

  ‘I didn’t forget,’ Marie said.

  ‘But you know what your Uncle Sal is like with his women,’ Angelo said. ‘You better cash in while Muffin is still available. Unless you’re afraid you won’t win.’

  ‘Of course I’m going to win,’ Marie said.

  ‘Win a bet, don’t pay taxes,’ the Old Man said unexpectedly. He straightened. ‘How much is this bet?’ he asked Angelo.

  ‘Ten pounds, Papa,’ Angelo said.

  ‘A lot of money,’ the Old Man said.

  ‘It’s not that much, Grandad,’ Marie said.

  ‘My day,’ the Old Man said, ‘buy a suit, get some change.’

  Angelo smiled conspiratorially at Marie. He said to his father, ‘You must be older than I thought if you can remember getting a suit for a tenner. Tell me, what was Queen Victoria really like?’

  The Old Man made a muffled sound that could have been, ‘Huh!’

  Marie said, ‘Nowadays ten pounds isn’t much.’

  Although he had introduced the subject, Angelo stiffened. ‘Your mother negotiates your allowance.’

  ‘I’m just saying, Daddy.’

  ‘So what do you spend it all on?’ Angelo asked. The Old Man’s head dropped forward again.

  ‘You can’t even get a decent T-shirt for ten pounds,’ Marie said.

  ‘Can’t you?’

  ‘You’re so out of touch with the real world.’

  ‘Am I?’ Angelo said. ‘Work. Get paid for your work. Isn’t that what happens any more?’

  Marie’s eyes narrowed. Angelo could see that she was thinking, but he didn’t know about what. Had he gone too far? Did she suspect that he knew? Was that what she was working out?

  ‘Daddy,’ Marie said, ‘have you got a job for me? Is that why you’re talking about work and money?’

  Angelo hesitated.

  Marie became excited. ‘Is that it? Do you? Do you, Daddy?’

  ‘Would you be interested?’

  ‘Of course!’

  ‘Even though working for money’s old-fashioned?’ Angelo risked.

  ‘Everybody works except Salvatore,’ the Old Man said as he jerked erect again.

  ‘Papa,’ Angelo said, ‘Salvatore works whenever we need him. He’s out working now.’

  ‘When it suits him,’ the Old Man said. ‘The family doesn’t come first.’

  ‘Daddy!’ Marie said.

  Angelo held up a finger. Father and daughter waited while the Old Man drifted away again.

  Marie whispered, ‘Don’t mess about. What job?’

  ‘Salvatore and I will talk to Mr Shayler tomorrow, right?’

  ‘And?’

  ‘After that we might need someone to follow him,’ Angelo improvised. ‘And it would have to be someone he wouldn’t recognize—not me or Sal. So I thought since he doesn’t have a car—as far as we know—I thought maybe you.’

  ‘When?’ Marie said. ‘Tomorrow after school?’

  ‘No, not at night,’ Angelo said sternly. ‘I was thinking daytime. I was thinking, Saturday.’

  ‘What’s that in your bag, Auntie Rose?’ David asked.

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s a wine bottle!’

  ‘No, it isn’t.’

  ‘Yes, it is! It’s the one that wasn’t finished.’

  ‘Well, nobody wanted it,’ Rosetta said. ‘Waste is a sin.’

  ‘Can I have some?’

  ‘No, no,’ Rosetta said. ‘You had some at dinner.’

  ‘Let me have a sip,’ David said. ‘Just a sip. Oh please.’

  ‘Well …’ Rosetta said.

  ‘If you do I’ll take the empty bottle and recycle it for you.’

  ‘You’re sure you’ve done all your homework?’ Rosetta said, taking the bottle from her bag.

  ‘What homework?’ David said happily.

  After she took a drink herself Rosetta passed the bottle to her nephew. David drank deeply.

  ‘Enough, enough,’ Rosetta said.

  ‘Mmmmmmm,’ David said. But he gave the bottle back to his aunt. ‘Hey, I’ve thought of another one!’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Next to an ambulance station, right? Dig a deep hole. Fill it with wine. That way all the ambulance-chasing solicitors will smell the wine and fall in and drown.’

  ‘I like it,’ Rosetta said, turning to the computer and moving the cursor into the box for drawing circles. ‘But instead of wine in the hole it’s got to be beer.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because that’s an old-fashioned way to kill slugs,’ Rosetta said. With her free hand she raised the wine bottle to her lips again.

  ‘Hey,’ David said. ‘Hey! Leave some for me!’

  Bonnie the Regular appeared in the Rose and Crown half an hour before closing time. She asked Cheryl for a pint and was surprised to find that her drink was already paid for.

  ‘What brings this on?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s not me,’ Cheryl said. ‘That gentleman over there.’ Cheryl pointed to Salvatore who stood by the dart board. Cheryl waved to attract Salvatore’s attention and Salvatore waved back.

  ‘Him?’ Bonnie said. ‘But he’s gorgeous!’

  ‘Don’t get excited,’ Cheryl said. ‘He’s with the woman at the oche.’

  ‘Probably his sister,’ Bonnie said. She walked to Salvatore and touched him on the arm. ‘I understand I have you to thank for my bedtime drink. What can I do in return?’

  Muffin delivered a dart into the heart of the treble-twenty.

  When Mama and the Old Man left to go up to their flat, Marie retreated to her room, taking the hall telephone with her. She closed the door.

  On the kitchen extension Gina and Angelo saw the line-occupied light come on almost immediately. Angelo reached toward the receiver. ‘I could pretend I made a mistake,’ he said, but they both knew he wouldn’t do it. Then they heard riotous laughter coming all the way from Rosetta’s room.

  When they opened the door they saw Rosetta, seated at the computer, laughing. David was on the floor, rolling and holding his sides. David said, ‘Auntie Rose and I are drawing cartoons.’

  Gina and Angelo moved to where they could see the computer screen.

  ‘Run it for them,’ David said.

  With Rosetta at the keyboard Gina and Angelo watched as a male figure appeared on the screen. He was standing beneath a funnel. Then the image was replaced with another that had dots emerging from the funnel so it became clear that the man was standing under a shower. Next the figure was shown on its knees. Then lying flat on its face. After a moment the screen was filled with a flashing caption that read, ‘Our latest legicidal spray is the most effective yet!’ Rosetta and David burst again with laughter.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Angelo asked.

  David said, ‘We’re doing a series called “21st Century Ecology”.’

  ‘We’re exterminating solicitors,’ Rosetta said, ‘to help the environment.’

  ‘Wait! Wait! I’ve got a new one, Auntie Rose,’ David shouted. He rolled up to a kneeling position. ‘Here it is. Here it is. “One way to control the spread of solicitors is to re
lease a zillion sterilized males.” He looked up at his aunt, expecting her approval.

  But Gina and Angelo saw that Rosetta did not laugh. Her amusement turned to something else. She stiffened and turned to the screen.

  ‘Do you get it?’ David said. ‘We sterilize male solicitors so they can’t breed more solicitors! They did that with fruit flies in California. We studied it in school.’

  Rosetta said nothing. In another moment she was fighting back tears.

  ‘Angelo,’ Gina said, ‘take David to his room.’

  ‘Is that wine I smell?’ Angelo said.

  ‘I’ve done all my homework!’ David shouted. ‘Don’t you get it?’

  ‘Rose?’ Angelo said.

  Gina said, ‘Take David.’ Angelo lifted his son off the floor by the shoulders.

  ‘No, no!’ David said. ‘I’ve got another one. How about a solicitor swat? It’s like a fly swat, only bigger.’

  ‘Time for bed,’ Gina said.

  ‘No, no, wait!’ David said, giggling, as Angelo half-carried, half-dragged him from the room.

  Gina knelt on the floor next to Rosetta’s chair. Rosetta was running the computer’s mouse back and forth across its pad. Gina heard clicking, but didn’t know what it was about. However she saw that the screen was being spoiled with a web of lines.

  ‘Rose?’ Gina said.

  ‘He had a vasectomy,’ Rosetta said.

  ‘Walter?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh,’ Gina said. ‘But they can be reversed sometimes.’

  ‘Can they?’ Rosetta said.

  ‘I’m sure I’ve read about it.’

  Rosetta turned to her sister-in-law. ‘Without the man knowing?’

  CHAPTER NINE

  Angelo followed Jack Shayler to work again on Friday morning. Shayler’s route, activities and timing followed exactly the Thursday morning pattern. A man of routine. Just not the particular routine he told his wife about.

  When Angelo returned to the office, he and Gina shared a pot of tea and discussed how they would handle the day. Then they went to see Mrs Shayler. When Angelo and Salvatore confronted Jack Shayler later in the day and claimed they had planted a telephone bug, it would be helpful to be able to describe details of the house.