‘I know what you think, and such a thing about poor Salvatore … Ridiculous! You’re a foolish old man and you shouldn’t interfere in the children’s lives.’
‘Foolish it is now? Huh! You’re hungry, I’m so foolish? You’re starving, I’m so foolish?’
‘You’re just causing trouble because you can’t accept that there are things more important to Salvatore than the business which was everything to you. Because you can’t accept you’re not so important to the business any more yourself. That’s the truth of it.’
‘Huh!’ the Old Man said. ‘Huh!’
‘Time to adjust,’ Mama said. ‘Act your age. Grow up.’
‘Huh!’
Mama sighed. Oh dear. He was bound to sulk now.
‘Huh!’
They sat in silence for a while. Then Mama said, ‘I was thinking.’
Some miracle, the Old Man thought.
‘About the Shaylers.’
The Old Man hesitated but couldn’t resist. ‘What about the Shaylers? They’re foolish too?’
‘How suddenly they’re happy,’ Mama said.
‘Like Rosetta,’ the Old Man said. ‘Everybody’s happy. Happy-happy. It’s catching, maybe.’
‘I think maybe it’s common enemy,’ Mama said.
‘What nonsense are you talking?’ Savouring ‘nonsense’.
‘Why the wife is satisfied today.’
‘OK, so why?’
‘Yesterday Angelo and Salvatore frightened the husband. He thinks they’re killers, my boys. So the husband runs home, cries on the shoulder. Panics, she said. So maybe also the husband confides, “Boo-hoo. This has been happening, that has been happening.”’
‘What happening?’
‘All why he cried for help with the washing-up liquid.’
The Old Man considered. ‘He could confide,’ he conceded.
‘And then the wife takes his side, no matter what,’ Mama said. ‘So now they are together against whatever it is. The common enemy. So suddenly she’s happy, because between them there’s no more division.’
The Old Man sat silent.
‘You don’t think it can work like that? Because I tell you, it can.’
The Old Man said, ‘You could be right.’
‘Such a vote of confidence,’ Mama said, but she was not displeased.
‘Give me a paper, I’ll mark an “X” so I vote for you, if that’s what you want,’ he said. ‘Everybody gets what they want. What else am I for? Salvatore wants to freeload, be my guest. You want a vote, here give me a pencil. Huh!’
Mama studied her husband. Though he was old in so many ways, he remained responsive to reason. She rose from her chair.
He watched her closely. ‘No pencil?’
If only he could ever be brought to apply himself to important things, Mama thought. ‘Let me get you something. Tea?’
‘All right, tea,’ he said.
Although Angelo was still sitting by the window when David and Marie arrived, he was on the telephone. The children stood waiting, but their father hung up without saying anything.
‘Not there?’ Gina asked from across the table.
‘Not there.’
‘And no machine?’ Gina said.
‘He’s never met Rosetta’s friend.’
‘What do you want to do? Wait till Monday?’
Angelo considered. ‘I think it’s worth a trip this morning. Howard may not be there, but other places in the row might be open. Someone might know things. Even where he lives.’
‘Good idea,’ Gina said.
‘I’ll go.’
‘No,’ Gina said. ‘You stay here and run your ops.’ She rose and handed Angelo her empty tea mug. Then she picked up the telephone and put it back on the desk.
‘Huh!’ Angelo said.
‘Bye,’ Gina said to them all, and she left.
As the door closed, Marie said, ‘Reporting for duty.’
David, who still felt hard done by, said nothing.
Angelo said, ‘It’s the Shaylers. We’re worried.’
‘See, I told you I was following Mr Shayler,’ Marie said to her brother. David made a face in reply.
‘If you’re going to squabble,’ Angelo said, ‘go back to the house. This is work. Either be professional or go away to play your games. Am I understood?’
Both children nodded. ‘Who do I follow?’ David asked. ‘Or is it something else?’
‘I want a tail on each of them. Marie, I want you to follow Mrs Shayler if she comes out. David, Mr Shayler. That way round nobody ends up where it’s obvious, like Marie in a men’s shop or David in dresses.’ Then he described the two Shaylers. ‘Got it?’
‘Yes, Dad,’ Marie said.
David said, ‘Do you know where they might go?’
‘Our problem is we don’t know. Suddenly the Shaylers are confusing.’
‘Got it,’ David said.
‘I want a proper job,’ Angelo said. ‘Everything in the notebook with times. Phone in regularly. This is work. Not …’ Angelo hesitated over the phrase ‘easy money’. He opted instead to say, ‘This is not money for nothing.’
The children nodded.
‘And nothing even slightly dangerous,’ Angelo said emphatically. ‘I can’t imagine what, but Shayler tells his wife someone wants to kill him. Maybe that’s just because your Uncle Sal is so ugly, but he might have some other reason. So you only follow if he walks, David. No bus. No taxi. And that’s for you too with the wife, Marie.’
‘OK, Dad,’ both children said.
‘And if they stay inside all day, I still need who goes in, who goes out.’ Angelo checked his watch. ‘You work till six. Phone in every hour. One can call for both unless you separate. Got it?’
‘Yes, Dad,’ the detectives said.
‘On your way.’
They left.
Angelo moved to the window. The flower-dotted backs of the Paragon crescent smiled from above, but he looked down to the street. He waited for his children to emerge on to the pavement and turn in the direction of the Shaylers’ house. They did, and he saw Marie toss her hair the way she often did after she said something she thought was funny. Then he saw David poke the end of Marie’s shoulder with his fist. Then he lost sight of them, though he stood gazing down the street in the direction they had gone.
Rosetta popped into the kitchen looking for Gina but didn’t find her. The car keys were not on their hook, so maybe Gina was out.
Or maybe not. Humming to herself Rosetta used her hips to flip her skirt from one hall wall to the other as she walked through to the office. After knocking perfunctorily, she went in.
Angelo was standing at the window. He turned.
‘Is Gina around?’ Rosetta asked.
‘No,’ Angelo said. ‘Is there business?’
Rosetta swirled for her brother. ‘What do you think?’ She wore a full black skirt and a white blouse. Her cheeks were red, a combination of natural and artificial colourings.
‘Wow!’ Angelo said, recognizing what was being asked for, and having no difficulty about providing it. ‘You look great!’
Rosetta beamed. ‘Do you really think so?’
‘I really think so,’ Angelo said with enthusiasm. ‘Where is he taking you, this equipment giant?’
‘Hardly a giant,’ Rosetta said. She pirouetted. ‘Do you know the French café in Shires Yard?’
‘You’ll knock ’em dead, ma jolie soeur.’
‘Oh Angelo, thank you for saying so!’ Rosetta went to her brother and kissed him. ‘Oh dear. Now you’ve got lipstick on your cheek.’ Humming, she left him to go back to her room.
Angelo rubbed his cheek. Now I have lipstick on my hand, he thought.
He returned to the window to see if he could see the children. He shouldn’t be able to, but … Neither Marie nor David was in sight. Angelo tested the soil around the base of each plant on the sill. All were moist.
He looked at the plate of biscuits. He picked up a garibaldi
. Perhaps this one had the taste they ought to have. But instead of biting, Angelo dropped the biscuit back on the plate. Basta! Enough chances he’d given them. He picked up the plate and scooped the biscuits back into their box. He gathered up his and Gina’s tea mugs. Time to do something constructive.
At that moment he heard a clatter of feet on the stairs from the street. He heard a high-pitched voice, but not the words. The bustle meant it was the children. Coming to the office? What for? Some argument?
Angelo stood, facing the door squarely. Resolved to fire his ‘ops’ on the spot. Basta was basta, no?
The office door burst open. Kit Bridges marched in. She was followed by a round man with a camera hanging by a strap from his neck. ‘This is him,’ Kit Bridges said. She pointed at Angelo.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Gina parked and walked to Block Letter having decided to force her way into the premises if she could do so without attracting attention. She didn’t know quite what she would look for, but she felt strongly that she needed to know what Howard the Slimy Detective was printing that could possibly affect Jack Shayler.
But while Block Letter was not open for business on a Saturday morning, some of the other small companies beneath the arches were. Many, Gina saw, dealt with aspects of the motor trade, though one was a monumental mason. There was also clear activity under an arch that adjoined Block Letter’s, although there was nothing to indicate the nature of the business. A van was parked in front of it, and doors of both van and premises were open.
Gina tried Block Letter itself first. She knocked, she rattled the door, she peered through the plastic window. But nothing elicited response.
So Gina went next door. Inside she found a man and two women busily preparing sandwiches. The two women each had a table covered with rolls and fillings. The man gathered and bagged the completed sandwiches from both tables and allocated them to flat boxes. Behind the women were more rolls and tubs of fillings. The quantity of food being prepared was huge.
‘Sorry, love,’ one of the women said as Gina came in. ‘No time to stop and sell you a bap.’
‘It’s information I was hoping for,’ Gina said.
‘If it’s a one-off event you’re organizing, we won’t be able to fit you in till week after next. If it’s something regular, give us the dates and we’ll put you on the circuit. If you’re desperate, we can probably get someone over to you for next Saturday, long as you’re not too far from another sale we’re already catering.’ The woman spoke without missing so much as a tomato slice.
The second woman said, ‘We stock you to sell yourself. We don’t provide counter staff or display. But our rolls are top quality, and if people like the food you provide they always stay longer and buy more.’
‘If it’s for an event during the week,’ the man said, ‘great. But if it’s another bloody weekend or bank holiday gig, we’re already up to our boiled eggs.’
‘He means “eyeballs”, love. But he’s right,’ the first woman said. ‘We’re very busy, thank God.’
‘Does that cover what you wanted to know?’ the second woman said.
‘I’m afraid I’ve come in about something else altogether,’ Gina said.
‘What would that be?’ the man asked.
‘I’m trying to get a word with the bloke who runs the printers next door.’
‘Oh,’ the second woman said. ‘Him.’
‘You know him then?’ Gina asked.
‘Not to be civil to. Ten seconds after I said hello the first time, he was trying it on,’ the second woman said.
‘Ugly git with a flash car? That who you mean?’ the man said.
‘He’s the only one who works there, Karl,’ the first woman said.
‘I thought there was two of them,’ Karl said.
‘Not for months now,’ the second woman said. ‘Ever since the murder.’
The round man with the camera said, ‘Miss Bridges has told me all about this mystery man who’s posing as one of your private detectives, Mr Lunghi. So what I’d like to do is take a photograph of you and Miss Bridges together so they can run it with the story.’
‘Hang on,’ Angelo said. ‘What story?’
‘In the Chronicle,’ the man with the camera said.
‘Oh please, Mr Lunghi,’ Kit Bridges said. ‘I can’t have some evil crustacean going around the city suggesting that there’s something in my life that needs investigating.’
‘A story in the paper will help track the bugger down,’ the man with the camera said.
‘I’m not sure that’s the right way to go about it,’ Angelo said.
The man with the camera said, ‘The paper will run the story anyway, but with a picture it’ll get better play. And it will be good publicity for you, Mr Lunghi. The Chronicle’s read all over the area. A story with a pic will bring in more business than any advertising you can do. Chances are you’ll be rushed off your feet. I’ve seen it happen before.’
‘And it will be good for me too,’ Kit Bridges said. ‘I’ll be on record saying that this subhuman is telling lies about me.’
‘So why not a picture just of you?’ Angelo said.
‘Much better the two of you,’ the man with the camera said. ‘“Private eye rescues damsel in distress.” They’ll print it four times as big. Could even be on the front page if it’s a slow news day.’
‘Oh please, Mr Lunghi,’ Kit Bridges said. ‘Please!’
The man with the camera said, ‘You wouldn’t want to disappoint the pretty lady, now would you, Mr Lunghi?’
‘Well …’ Angelo said.
‘That’s great! Now tell me, Mr Lunghi, you must have a mac around somewhere. And a hat with a brim. The sort of thing you might wear when you’re out on a case. And how about a gun? Needn’t be the real thing. And do put those dirty cups down.’
‘No costumes,’ Angelo said. ‘No dressing up. If the intention of this picture isn’t serious, I’m not interested.’
‘Of course, Mr Lunghi, if that’s your feeling we’ll respect it completely,’ the round man with the camera said.
Angelo thought about Howard’s use of Kit Bridges’ photograph to try to pick up women. Maybe even planning to harm them. Warning women in the city, that would be a good thing to do. ‘All right, then,’ he said, ‘let’s do it.’
The man with the camera pushed some buttons and held his camera up. He said, ‘Let’s sit you in the chair by the window.’
Angelo hesitated. ‘Shouldn’t I be at my desk?’
‘It’s less formal if you’re in the chair,’ the man with the camera said. ‘Miss Bridges, dump those cups somewhere.’
Angelo allowed Kit Bridges to take the mugs. Oh well. The picture would show a friendly, family business. Angelo sat in the chair. Kit Bridges put the mugs by the computer.
‘Now, Miss Bridges,’ the man with the camera said, ‘how about giving him a thankyou kiss? Bending over, like they do on seaside postcards. You know the drill.’
‘Hang on,’ Angelo said, but Kit Bridges immediately moved in close, bent sharply at the waist and put her lips on Angelo’s cheek while rotating her torso toward the camera in a way which maximized the display of her cleavage. The flash went off twice in rapid succession.
‘That was nice,’ the man with the camera said. ‘Now how about sitting on his lap?’
‘I’m not very heavy,’ Kit Bridges said. She jumped on to Angelo’s lap.
From the doorway to the street Angelo heard Salvatore’s voice. ‘Well well, bubba, what have we here?’
As Angelo turned to look at his brother, he came face to face with Kit Bridges. Kit Bridges kissed him full on the lips. The flash went off twice again.
‘That’s great!’ the round man with the camera said. ‘That astonished look was perfect, Mr Lunghi. You’re a natural.’
Saturday parking in the centre of Bath lived up to its reputation. Gina found a queue at the Ham Gardens multi-storey. The railway station was hopeless. Manvers Street was full. It was
particularly frustrating to drive past the very building she wanted to go into without being able to stop.
As she waited at the lights by the Abbey Gina had a decision to make. Circle to try the car-parks again? Or would it end up quicker to drive home and walk?
She opted to try for space one more time. She drove the circuit that took her back to the car-parks. And her persistence was rewarded. Not only had the Ham Gardens queue cleared, when she drove in she was able to snap up a first-floor place as it was vacated by a dirty white van. An early bird.
Gina paid, displayed, and walked to the police station.
‘Excellent bone structure,’ Salvatore said after Kit Bridges and the man with the camera left to rush the photographs to the newspaper. ‘Even better than on the picture Howard shows.’
‘A story in the paper will warn women to be wary,’ Angelo said.
‘Is that what you said to get her on your lap?’
‘If you ever need tips on handling women,’ Angelo said, ‘you know where to come.’
‘How did Gina do at the Shaylers’ this morning?’
‘Sally, can we talk over a cup of coffee outside?’ Angelo said.
‘Any particular reason?’
‘I want to have a look at how David and Marie are getting along.’
Gina knew enough police officers in Bath for it to be almost certain that one of them would be on duty. But it was Charlie she asked for and Charlie she got.
A constable escorted her to the door of the computer services room. Gina knocked and went in. Charlie was at his desk, talking to a woman CID officer. The woman said, ‘If only girls were a Diamond’s best friend.’ She rose and offered Gina her chair. ‘See you later,’ the woman said to Charlie.
‘I’ll warn you when he’s prowling around if you’ll warn me,’ Charlie said. The woman laughed and left.
Gina sat.
Charlie said, ‘Gina! We talk so often but meet so rarely. Who’s been murdered?’
‘That’s what I hope you’ll tell me,’ Gina said.
‘I was just about to send David to ring you,’ Marie said.
‘Uncle Sal and I were passing,’ Angelo said. ‘How are you getting on? Has anything happened?’
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