“I can’t believe you know Bruno O’Malley,” I said to Nick.
“I fixed his girlfriend Dana’s overbite,” Nick said. He gave a delicate shudder. “Not to gossip about a patient but truly she was a mouth of horrors.”
“Not your fault, the tooth hurts,” Viv quipped.
“Well done.” Nick laughed.
“Must have been quite the molar expedition,” Andre said and Viv chortled.
“Be nice,” I said. “I’m sure she has fillings, too.”
They all turned to look at me with blank expressions. I swear they practiced this when I wasn’t around.
“That was funny,” I said. “And you know it.”
“Scarlett, Scarlett, Scarlett,” Nick said as he draped his arm on my shoulder. “Keep trying, love, you’ll get it yet.”
I rolled my eyes but then Nick’s phone buzzed as it vibrated, drawing our attention to it.
“It’s Dana,” he said. His eyes scanned the small screen and then he grinned. He looked up at us and said, “Let’s play.”
Chapter 20
Yes, it did occur to me that this was the sort of thing Harrison expected to be informed about, but—there’s always a but—since Nick and Andre were involved, it seemed less critical. Viv concurred.
The address of the meeting was for a place tucked away in West London on an inauspicious street that was made up of shops and restaurants with residences above them.
I kept a hand on the back of Andre’s jacket for fear that if I let go, I’d be lost and never find my way home. It never ceased to amaze me how many tiny side streets were tucked in among the main roads, creating small neighborhoods that I had never known existed until I was led into one of them.
At the corner, we could see the place that Dana had indicated Nick should meet her and Bruno. I frowned. I had pictured a dimly lit, smoky pub. You know, the sort of place you walk into and it’s so dark your pupils dilate into big black marbles, your feet stick to the floor, the bouncer looks like he wrestles bears in his off time, and the smell of cigarette smoke is so thick it coats your skin with tar and ash. Yeah, that kind of place.
“Are you sure you got the address right?” I asked Nick.
“Positive,” he said.
“But that’s a . . .” I hesitated. Maybe I was seeing things.
“Frozen yogurt shop,” Andre said, clearly as bemused as I was.
“See? What can happen in a place called Snog?” Nick asked. “At worst, I’ll get a brain freeze from slurping down my yogurt too fast.”
Andre did not look relieved at all. If anything, he looked more suspicious.
“You’re not actually going in there, are you?” Andre asked. “Bruno’s probably on to you, and this is his way of toying with you, making you think you’re okay while he’s plotting your demise.”
“Or maybe he just likes frozen yogurt,” Viv countered.
“Who doesn’t?” I asked. “Especially with the toppings. I always pile shredded coconut on mine.”
“Blueberries and pineapple,” Viv said. “It can’t be beat.”
“Too healthy.” Nick made a face. “You have to pick the chocolate yogurt and then double down with chocolate chunks.”
“You’re seriously debating yogurt toppings when you’re about to walk into a setup?” Andre asked.
“Relax,” Nick said. He straightened his jacket and cuffs and strode forward. “Come with me if you’re game; otherwise I’ll see you on the other side.”
“Oh, no, don’t . . . how do I get into these things?” Andre asked no one in particular.
He gave me a decidedly dirty look, as if this was my fault, before hurrying after Nick. It had been agreed that Nick and Andre would go in first and meet Bruno, while Viv and I followed a few minutes after, just to keep an eye on things and be backup if they needed it.
“Do you think this is a good idea?” I asked Viv.
“I don’t see how it’s a bad idea,” Viv said. “Nick will chat up Bruno and Dana, maybe place a few bets, feel them out about Russo, and either he’ll come out with some information or he won’t.”
I nodded. It seemed reasonable enough. Still, Bruno O’Malley did have a certain reputation. In a city where off-course bookmakers were legal, he seemed to like to bend the rules to his own advantage, which was the reason he seemed to keep landing back in jail. So long as bending the rules didn’t include whacking my favorite neighbors, we were all good.
The night had turned cold and my coat was not nearly warm enough. I was hoping they served hot chocolate in the yogurt shop, but I wasn’t betting on it. See what I did there? Betting when we were meeting a bookie? Hilarious, I know. Someday my friends would appreciate my wit.
Yeah, it was bad. What can I say? It had been an extremely long day. Starting at Mariska’s with the fermented potato and domestic drama, facing Alistair and Harrison, seeing the bad news in the evening paper, interviewing Naomi and now watching my friend meet the bookmaker. I was done in physically and emotionally. The lure of a hot cup of tea, a fuzzy blanket and a good book was almost more than I could bear. I had half a mind to turn and walk home, but I had no idea where I was or how to get back.
The streetlights illuminated our two friends as they ducked into the shop on the corner. Viv and I pretended to window-shop. There wasn’t much to exclaim over. Then again my lack of enthusiasm could be nerves. Did I really think the boys were in danger? No, but then I hadn’t expected to come across the dead body of Anthony Russo when I’d gone to his office either.
After what seemed like forever but was only five minutes by the clock on Viv’s cell phone, we set off for yogurt or, in my case, hot chocolate.
We never made it into the shop. Viv reached for the door but it flew open, barely missing us as it slammed back. We both jumped and watched with our mouths hanging open as Nick and Andre raced past us.
I gaped at the man looming in the doorway. He was watching Andre and Nick run down the street while shoveling yogurt into his mouth as if afraid someone was going to snatch it away.
“You’ll get a punch up the bracket if I catch you around here again!” he yelled after Nick and Andre, sending yogurt-covered spittle in all directions.
Viv and I backed up several paces while clutching each other close.
I figured this was O’Malley since there wasn’t anyone else in the shop except the girl behind the counter, who was more interested in her smartphone than what was happening, and the woman standing next to Bruno, looking like she was about to give him a good scolding.
I gave her a lot of credit. O’Malley was shaved bald, had gauges in his ears, sported scruffy whiskers on his chin and was clothed in black—black leather jacket over a black shirt, black jeans and black boots. Very intimidating.
The woman next to him looked as out of place as a kitten in an alligator pit. She had her hand wrapped around his elbow and was frowning as she whispered something in his ear. Her hair was red like mine, but had more blond in it, and she wore it up on her head in a tidy twist. She wore a tailored blouse and skirt with tights and high heels. She looked like a bank teller. They made a perplexing couple.
“Bruno O’Malley, that was absolutely uncalled for,” she said. It might have been more effective if she didn’t say it in a singsong baby voice.
Bruno hung his head. Then again, it seemed to work.
“Do you think she thinks she can tame him?” Viv asked me.
“Housebreaking might be the place to start,” I said.
“I’m sorry, Dana,” he said. He had yogurt dripping off his chin and onto the sidewalk. Dana used a napkin to swab his chin.
“Maybe she fancies him as her big baby,” Viv said.
“Shh,” I said. I realized Bruno had noticed us and I didn’t want to have whatever had happened with Nick and Andre happen to us, mostly because I really hate running.
“Yes,” I said. “After all, we did promise not to talk to anyone without taking Harrison with us.”
“And we definitely don’t want to break our promise twice in one day,” Viv said.
Together we started backing away. Bruno took one stomping step toward us, and both Viv and I squealed and turned and ran down the sidewalk after Nick and Andre.
I was wheezing by the time we reached the corner but I kept going. When we were rounding a building to dash up another side street, a hand reached out from the alley and grabbed my arm. It might have been my adrenaline, but I punched out with a fist, connecting with an arm and the person connected to the arm yelped.
I recognized that yelp. It was Nick. I stopped, grabbing Viv and slowing her down.
“Wait!” I cried.
Viv stumbled to a halt. We were both breathing hard. Nick was doubled up, while Andre stood beside him, not breathing heavy but definitely hysterical.
“He’s going to kill us and Scarlett will find the bodies,” Andre whined. “I can see the headline now, Young photographer Andre Eisel struck down in the prime of his life.”
“What am I, a footnote in the story?” Nick asked. “Meanwhile his lover, a dentist of no importance . . .”
“Enough, you two!” I cried. “What happened back there? Why did you run out? Did Bruno threaten you? Are you all right? What did he say?”
“Take a breath, Scarlett,” Andre said.
“I can’t,” I gasped.
I bent over next to Nick, trying to catch my breath.
“We had barely walked into the place when Bruno charged us,” Andre said.
“That’s not what happened,” Nick argued. “Dana introduced us. It was going well. Bruno even complimented the job I did on her overbite, and then you”—he paused to jab a finger at Andre—“blurt out that he’s so much nicer in person than we thought he’d be and clearly he couldn’t have whacked Anthony Russo.”
Viv and I both turned to look at Andre.
“You didn’t,” Viv said.
Andre raised his hands in a dramatic gesture. “It was meant to be a compliment.”
“How is backhandedly accusing someone of murder a compliment?” I asked.
Andre stepped up to the corner to peer around the edge of the building as if he expected Bruno to show up and finish what he’d started.
“I tried to apologize,” he said.
Nick snorted.
“Worse?” I asked.
Nick bobbed his head.
“I was trying to appeal to his masculinity,” Andre said. Now he was beginning to look put out.
“By telling him you bruise easily?” Nick asked. “Honestly.”
“Did you get any information about Russo?” I asked.
Nick pushed off his knees and met my gaze. “Yes. He did manage to yell that the police had already asked him about the blighter and that of course he didn’t throw him off the roof because how would he get the money Russo owed him if Russo was dead?”
“Oh, that does make sense,” Viv said.
“It does, unless the fall was an accident,” I said. “Maybe Bruno and company were just trying to scare him.”
“Then there would have been a record of the killer coming in,” Viv said. “Because they’d have nothing to hide, they’d be on camera.”
“Oh, and Bruno also yelled that he had an alibi,” Nick said. “But I didn’t catch what it was because I was too busy running for my life.”
“The police must have verified it, or else he’d be behind bars by now,” Viv said.
“What a disaster,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” Andre said. “I panicked.”
“Not your fault,” I said, although clearly it was.
Nick snorted so I knew he was thinking the same thing I was. We meandered back to Portobello Road. To make up for missing out on frozen yogurt, we stopped by Zaza, a gelato spot near our shop.
Not that gelato makes everything better, but we’d gone only half a block when the entire Bruno O’Malley episode struck me funny and I couldn’t stop the giggle fit that erupted.
“All right, Scarlett?” Nick asked.
I nodded. My red hair was hanging over my face. The harder I tried to squelch the laugh, the more it slipped out sideways, making it sound like someone was stepping on a duck.
“Dear God, she’s having a fit,” Andre said.
Chapter 21
I did have a fit, a laughing fit, which was contagious. We were all in much better spirits when we reached the hat shop. Nick and Andre bade us a good night and continued on home.
Viv waited while I fumbled with my key. She was watching the street around us and said, “It’s much quieter at this time of day. You know, that lull between the shopping and everyone coming home from the pub.”
I opened the door and hurried inside to deactivate the alarm. Viv followed.
“I suppose all streets are quiet at this time of day,” she said. As subtle as a brick to the temple, she is.
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said. She shrugged as if that emphasized her lack of a point.
“Yes, you are,” I said. “Spill it.”
“Do you suppose if two very bright women were to go to Ariana’s place of employment and just take a casual look around, they might find something of interest?”
“The two bright women being me and you,” I clarified.
“We are extraordinarily bright,” she said.
“Yeah, except for when we come up against fermented potatoes,” I said.
She nodded. “Even Superman has kryptonite.”
“We can’t go tonight,” I said. I gestured for Viv to go upstairs so I could reset the alarm. She headed in that direction and I hurried after her.
“I wasn’t suggesting tonight,” she said as we climbed the stairs to our flat.
“Good because, unlike someone who had a three-hour nap today, I am done in,” I said.
“Tomorrow night will do,” Viv said. I followed her through the sitting room on to the main kitchen, dining and living area of our flat.
“We have to find out from Ariana how to get in, assuming the police don’t still have it cordoned off,” I said.
“True,” Viv said. “So we visit the jail tomorrow?”
“Yes, I wanted to today but I couldn’t manage it,” I said.
Viv paused in front of her bedroom door, while I turned to go upstairs to my room. I considered Viv for a moment.
“What could we possibly expect to find that Inspectors Franks and Simms didn’t?” I asked.
“I don’t know that we’ll find anything,” Viv said. “I was thinking it more likely that we’ll get a feel for what happened.”
“Are we claiming to have psychic abilities now?” I asked.
We were both quiet. Viv’s blue eyes, which mirrored my own, were wide as we both waited for it, the scent of lily of the valley, which came to us both at the oddest times. It was Mim’s scent and I think we both felt that it signified there was some part of her that was still here.
Tonight she did not grace us with her presence, however. The apartment was scent free aside from the lavender sachets Viv used here and downstairs in the shop to keep us all calm. I thought she might need to up the pungency because I hadn’t felt much calm since I’d arrived four months ago.
“No, just intuition,” Viv said.
I nodded. My intuition had been faulty, especially in the man department for the past few years, but I believed that my moratorium on men might be strengthening my bull cheese detector.
“All right, Cuz, it’s a date,” I said. I jogged up the stairs, thinking how much my life had changed given that dating used to mean dinner and dancing with handsome men and now was b
reaking and entering with Viv.
* * *
We were dressed all in black, naturally. This was one of the few times that the color suited me better than Viv. She attributed it to my red hair, and she was right. Blondes can wear black but it needs to be accessorized; otherwise the black overpowers. Viv was out of luck as there were no accessories allowed on this mission.
From our black boots to our black knit caps, we were stealth all the way. Luckily, living in a city, no one batted an eye at us or called us cat burglars to our faces, which frankly, I’d been expecting.
Ariana had been pitifully grateful to see us today. She didn’t talk much about the fallout from the newspaper article, but I was pleased to see that both Stephen and his mother, Trudy, were there. They seemed determined to stand by Ariana to the end. She was a lucky girl.
Alistair had been going over the next steps of the process with them. He seemed particularly delighted to see Viv, which she ignored and I found fascinating. Alistair was a fine hunk of man, and had I been on the prowl, I would have flirted with him until my flirter gave out. Not Viv. She barely even acknowledged his existence, which come to think of it, seemed to make him even more interested in her. When I did start dating again, that was definitely something I needed to add to my arsenal.
As Viv and I turned onto Russo’s street, I was mulling over her resistance to Alistair’s charm when a thought struck me. Maybe she wasn’t interested in Alistair because he wasn’t her type.
“Viv, we’re close, right?”
“Don’t you know?” she asked. “You’re the one who’s been here before.”
“No, I don’t mean to the office,” I said. “It’s right up there on the left. No, what I meant was, are we, as in you and me, close?”
“Like sisters,” Viv said. She did it without hesitating, which gave me the warm fuzzies.
“Well, I want you to know you can tell me anything,” I said.
“Oy, you’re not going to start harping on my love life again, are you?” she asked.
At the Drop of a Hat Page 16