‘Do you like them?’ David asked.
‘I think they sound mega,’ Marie said without evident pleasure. ‘But I think they would do a lot lot better financially if they had a girl dancer.’
David looked at the buskers again. ‘You really think that would help?’ he said.
‘A girl dancer in a short skirt,’ Marie said. ‘She could be a backing singer on some of the numbers. And during the others she could go around the crowd collecting with a hat. I think it would make all the difference.’
Jack Shayler said, ‘This is all very hard for me to talk about, Mr Lunghi. As my poor wife has already found.’ He patted Eileen Shayler’s arm.
The Old Man said, ‘In your own time.’
‘You already know, I expect, that I work for a firm of accountants, Whitfield, Hare and O’Shea.’
The Old Man nodded.
‘Although I am only a clerk there, I’ve been happy enough. Eileen and I have modest needs and I have the satisfaction of knowing that I do good work. The youngsters who come into the firm these days may cut corners but I always say that there is nothing like detail and routine to ensure quality work. I always say that, don’t I, dear?’
‘You certainly do, dear,’ Mrs Shayler said with approval.
‘My job involves examining the financial records that a client submits. I check the maths, and I look at the supporting receipts and invoices to make sure everything’s been dealt with properly. I’m not claiming,’ Jack Shayler said, ‘that I validate every piece of paper which crosses my desk. But, if I do say so myself, I am the one clerk in the firm who always stands ready to go that extra mile. Or perhaps I should say “that extra kilometre”, in these days of such close association with our European neighbours.’ Shayler paused, smiling at his own joke.
Mrs Shayler smiled. Mama nodded. The Old Man said, ‘Go on.’
‘One of the ways I go the extra kilometre is to help out when colleagues are ill or away. So when young Francis came down with gastroenteritis I went to his in-tray and picked up the file for a client called Qualico and began to work on it. Qualico is a Bath firm that imports goods for resale, mostly from African manufacturers. It’s run by a man called Cyril Younger who is a friend of one of our partners, Mr Guy English. Mr English always works on Mr Younger’s accounts himself, but he does sometimes let new clerks check the figures. That way he can see for himself whether they are picking up errors the way they should.’
‘So this Francis is a new clerk,’ the Old Man said, ‘but ill. And you found something disturbing in the Qualico?’
‘Exactly,’ Jack Shayler said. ‘You have gone straight to the nub, Mr Lunghi. Eileen said you people were good, and you have fully justified her evaluation.’
The Shaylers exchanged smiles.
Mama said, ‘So what was the problem?’
‘Shush,’ the Old Man said. ‘The man is telling.’
‘The receipt in question,’ Jack Shayler said, ‘the first receipt in question, was for the purchase of a large quantity of drums with hollowed-log bases and water buffalo hide tops. The purchase was made by a Qualico agent in Malawi. It was one of many large purchases made in Africa, leading to the accumulation there of nearly three million pounds’ worth of stock, at import value.’
‘Sounds like a lot of drums,’ the Old Man said.
‘Indeed,’ Jack Shayler said. ‘So imagine my surprise when I discovered a secondary impression on the back of the receipt that read, “Printed by Block Letter, Bath.”’
Once the car was locked in the garage, Gina went to the office. She was not surprised to find it empty, but she had hoped to find a note from Angelo. Perhaps there was one in the house. But before she crossed to look, she went to the answering machine which showed that there were two messages.
The first was nothing, a silent pause.
The second message was, indeed, from Angelo. His voice was breathy. He said, ‘I’ll be back late.’
That was it? No explanation? No nothing?
After her lunch Rosetta was full of the joys of early summer. It was a beautiful day and she was in no hurry to get back home. Some shopping? Maybe. But she felt a genuine pleasure in being out, of participating in the great tide of humanity, at not being just something washed up on the shore.
She wandered the colonnaded pedestrian thoroughfares in the heart of the city and discovered that she did not want to leave the glory of the day for the darkness of a shop. Instead she stopped to look at the wares on sale from street stalls: jewellery, candles … It was good, this life. Better than she had ever realized. He likes me, she thought. He likes me. He likes me!
‘Auntie Rose?’
Rosetta looked to the voice and found Marie, with David not far behind. ‘Hello!’ She went to them and gathered both in her arms. ‘Isn’t it a beautiful day!’
David and Marie were surprised by their aunt’s enthusiasm and display of affection. Marie worked it out first. ‘How was lunch?’ she said. ‘How did it go?’
‘Oh, all right, I suppose,’ Rosetta said, affecting calm. She did not affect it well. Her face broke into a huge smile.
‘Auntie Rose!’ Marie said. The two women grabbed each others’ arms and danced up and down on the spot.
David looked on, in some puzzlement.
‘Tell me!’ Marie said. ‘Tell me all about it.’
‘Oh, not here,’ Rosetta said. ‘Where are you going now?’
‘Oooh!’ Marie said, suffering the pain caused by the conflict between desire and duty. ‘Oooh! We promised we’d be home by 5.30.’
‘I’m not ready to go home yet,’ Rosetta said. ‘La-la-la,’ she sang, and she spun around.
‘Oooh!’ Marie said, knowing that denial of duty meant risking her money. ‘But we’re still on for tonight, aren’t we, Auntie Rose? You’re still coming out, aren’t you? Or are you otherwise engaged?’
‘I’m not engaged,’ Rosetta said. ‘Not yet. But he’s coming to lunch tomorrow!’
‘Auntie Rose!’ Marie said, and the two women danced again.
When they separated Rosetta asked, ‘What time tonight? Eight?’
‘Seven?’ Marie said.
‘All right,’ Rosetta said. She began to move on.
‘I can’t wait!’ Marie said.
David said, ‘Auntie Rose, you haven’t seen Dad or Muffin, have you?’
The house was as empty as the office. While that was not unusual on a Saturday afternoon, Gina found it seriously frustrating. There were things to do, and things she wanted to talk about.
Gina sat at the kitchen table. She considered making a cup of tea. But she felt too impatient for tea. She considered beginning preparations for the evening meal. The things were in the fridge. But she didn’t feel like getting them out.
The telephone rang. Ah, she thought, now he has more time, he’s rung back. ‘Gina Lunghi.’
Gina heard someone swallow at the other end of the line. Then a man said, ‘Hello, Gina. Is Rosetta there, please?’
After a pause for recognition Gina said, ‘Walter?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Where are you?’
‘At my office.’
‘In Bath?’
‘Of course. What other office would it be? Oh, excuse me, Gina. I didn’t mean to be snappish. It’s just, well, I’m a little nervous.’
‘I thought …’ Gina began. ‘I didn’t think Rosetta was expecting to hear from you.’
‘I managed to get back from my trip early. I came into the office to catch up on correspondence. And while I was here I thought I’d ring Rose.’
‘I’m afraid she’s out.’
‘Oh.’
‘Do you want to leave a message?’
Walter hesitated. ‘Gina, how much has she told you?’
Only that you had a vasectomy without telling her and then went off on holiday with your wife. ‘Not much,’ Gina said.
‘Well, I will leave a message. And it’s important. But it may not make much sense
to you.’
‘Have you done much modelling?’ Salvatore asked.
‘Oh, a lot. Just never like this before. Some of my friends who are models have, but I haven’t.’
‘Well, you’ve got very good bone structure,’ Salvatore said. ‘In fact very good structure altogether.’
‘Thanks. Am I staying still enough?’
‘You’re doing fine,’ Salvatore said. ‘I’d never be able to tell it was your first time.’
‘It’s funny, I feel perfectly comfortable.’
‘I’m pleased about that,’ Salvatore said. ‘But to be on the safe side, I’ll mark you in with charcoal.’
‘You’ll do what?’
‘I’ll make the marks on the cloth so you can get back into the right position if you want to stretch. Or whatever.’
The last thing Gina wanted to think about was Walter’s personal life. And you don’t get much more personal than that. She wrote his message on a piece of paper. Then she folded it and wrote Rosetta’s name on the outside. But instead of leaving it in the plastic tray on the kitchen table, Gina went to Rosetta’s room and slipped the note beneath the door. Not that anybody else would look at it, but it didn’t seem quite the thing for Rosetta to read in public.
Gina looked at her watch. Rose must be having a good time. Well, she deserved some luck.
Then Gina contemplated the possible nature of Rosetta’s luck. Impulsively, she bolted down the stairs.
‘So what did you do?’ the Old Man asked.
‘The only thing I could,’ Jack Shayler said. ‘I took the receipt to my boss, Mr English.’
‘And he said what?’
Jack Shayler’s face showed that it wasn’t a pleasant memory. ‘He said I should never have touched the file in the first place. He’d left it for Francis because he wanted Francis to work on it. He told me to forget about whatever I thought I’d found. He told me there was no problem. He told me to bring him all the Qualico accounts immediately. And, he used coarse language.’
Eileen Shayler clung to her husband’s arm.
‘I …’ Jack Shayler said, ‘I’m not used to being spoken to that way.’
‘What did you do?’ the Old Man asked.
‘I took the file to Mr English.’
Mrs Shayler said, ‘My Jack didn’t tell me what happened so as not to upset me.’
‘But I couldn’t forget it,’ Jack Shayler said. ‘I couldn’t ignore it. Not something like that. If there’s a query about a receipt it must be resolved. That’s basic. A matter of professional integrity. A matter of honour. No, I couldn’t ignore it.’
‘But a difficult situation,’ the Old Man said. ‘I can see.’
‘So before I returned the file I copied the telephone number of the purchasing agent in Malawi. If the agent confirmed that he had his forms printed here in Bath that would explain it.’
‘You rang?’ the Old Man said.
‘Yes. But I couldn’t do it from work, so I used the telephone box. Or, at night, the telephone at home.’
‘And?’
‘There is no such number in Malawi.’
‘Huh!’ the Old Man said. ‘Millions of pounds, but no phone. Huh!’
‘My only other available course of action was to ring Block Letter. But as I could only ring out of business hours, the person there turned out to be difficult to contact. So I wrote a letter, giving the number at the telephone box and the exact times for the person to ring me back. When that didn’t happen, I wrote again asking that he write to me at work. But there was no response.’
‘So he worried,’ Mrs Shayler said.
‘So I worried,’ Jack Shayler said. ‘Because Mr English had seemed so angry. He was almost … violent.’
Mrs Shayler patted her husband’s hand.
‘And then,’ Jack Shayler said, ‘I wrote a final note saying if he didn’t ring back I’d be forced to go to the police. It was sheer bluster, of course, but in accountancy one has to be up to that sort of thing now and again.’
When David and Marie got home there was no one in the house. ‘Do you think we should go to Grandad’s flat?’ David asked his sister.
‘Why?’ Marie said. ‘It’s not him we’re working for.’
‘Don’t you want to know what happened with the Shaylers?’
‘Of course I do,’ Marie said, ‘but Auntie Rose is more exciting. I can’t wait to hear what happened at lunch!’
‘Why is that more exciting than the Shaylers?’
‘You have no soul,’ Marie said. ‘There’s no love in you. You’re just a thing.’
‘No, I’m not.’
‘Oh yes, you are!’ Marie flounced to her bedroom.
David didn’t quite know what to do with himself. He took an apple from the fruit bowl on the dresser. Then he went to the foot of the stairs that led to his grandparents’ flat.
But people never went up uninvited. David didn’t know why, but he knew it wasn’t done. Much as he wanted to go up, he knew he mustn’t.
So he crossed to the office. There he gathered his cartoons. What he had in mind was to begin the process of transferring them into the computer.
But as he held the drawings he found that they pleased him. He smiled, even laughed aloud. Which was not to say that they couldn’t be improved if he drew them again.
Instead of moving to the computer David got some clean sheets of paper. He began to draw. And he began to get ideas for new cartoons. Not on the subject of legal practitioners this time, but on buskers!
Marie rang Jenny from her room to say she would be at the bus station by 7.15.
‘Is Terry coming?’ Jenny asked.
‘Nooo!’ Marie said. ‘Don’t be mean. But I am bringing my Auntie Rose.’
‘You’re doing what?’
‘It’s OK,’ Marie said. ‘I know she’s old, but she’s just like a person really. And, she’s in love!’
‘She can give you some tips then,’ Jenny said.
‘Stop it!’
‘Well, come on, Marie! Did you go to see him?’
‘I found the time to drift past with my little brother.’
‘And were there a lot of people?’
‘Hardly any!’ Marie said. ‘It was wonderful!’
Mama and the Old Man both saw the Shaylers to the door. Then they returned to the kitchen, but found no signs that anybody was about. ‘We leave a note, I think,’ Mama said.
‘Why?’ the Old Man said.
‘Angelo and Gina might worry.’
‘Worry? Suddenly we’re not grown up? We’re out late, it will make us fall asleep at school tomorrow?’
‘Well …’ Mama said.
‘I’m ringing the taxi. You can come. You can stay. Me, I’m on my way.’
When the telephone rang Salvatore was in two minds about answering it. But he rolled over and picked up the receiver by the bed. ‘Yo.’
‘It’s Gina.’
‘Hey, Gina,’ he said lazily. ‘You decided to give up that no account brother of mine at last?’
‘Sally,’ Gina said, ‘is Muffin there?’
‘Not unless she’s hiding somewhere.’
‘Have you talked to her today?’
‘Not a word.’
‘What hotel was she staying at?’
‘The Hilton.’
‘And what’s her surname?’
‘Meckel. And she takes size five shoes. And she has unusually long little fingers. And she never eats rhubarb. Why all the questions, sis?’
‘I’m just trying to track her down,’ Gina said.
‘You sound like a big game hunter.’
Gina hesitated. ‘She promised to show David some tricks on the computer. I want to arrange a time.’
‘Well, let me know what arrangement you make,’ Salvatore said, ‘because I’ve “tracked down” a great new model and I’m thinking of displaying her head at lunch tomorrow.’ Salvatore turned to the head on the other pillow and winked. ‘She’s got great bone structure.’
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br /> ‘The pips are about to go,’ Gina said. ‘Thanks for the help.’
‘Any time,’ Salvatore said and they both hung up. Then he turned to his model. ‘What do you say?’
‘About what?’
‘Lunch tomorrow with my family.’
‘Really?’ But before Salvatore could respond, she said, ‘Oh no. I can’t. I’m working lunchtime.’
‘Another day then, maybe,’ Salvatore said.
‘Sal?’
‘What?’
‘Are you disappointed that it’s me modelling and not Kit?’
‘Certainly not.’
‘Really?’
‘To tell you the truth,’ Salvatore said, ‘when I came into the Rose and Crown and asked you for her phone number, it was only an excuse to ask you.’
‘Really?’ Cheryl said.
‘Really,’ Salvatore said.
But he paused before returning to his endeavours. What was Gina doing ringing about David and his computer from a public telephone?
When Rosetta finally decided to come home it was with hopes of being able to tell Gina all about her lunch before going out and telling Marie all about her lunch. However Gina was nowhere to be found.
But Rosetta was not in a mood to sustain disappointment. She decided to wash and change, and then see if Marie wanted to leave early. Why wait? Rosetta went to her room. Just inside, on the floor, she found the folded paper that Gina had left. Humming to herself, Rosetta opened the message from Walter.
Gina put her last coin in the telephone at the Hilton. She rang the police station and asked for Charlie. It took so long for the switchboard to put her through that Gina began to worry that she’d have to get more change and ring back. But at last Charlie came on the line. ‘I have a bone to pick with you, Gina Lunghi,’ he said. ‘Because of you I’m doing unpaid overtime now.’
‘Was Varden helpful? Did you get a look at the Adamson file?’
‘He was and I did,’ Charlie said.
‘And?’
‘Even as we speak Varden is out looking for Howard Urcott. He thinks Urcott may well have beaten Adamson to death. Can you come to the station? I’ll go through it for you. Briefly.’
‘I’ll be right over,’ Gina said.
After she hung up, Gina turned and caught sight of the hotel’s reception desk. If she hadn’t agreed to meet Charlie immediately, would she have gone to the desk and asked for Muffin Meckel’s room number?
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