Family Business (14 page)

‘We need to take a look at this Howard,' Angelo said as he and Gina sat in their car. ‘Pity it's the weekend.'

‘Maybe tomorrow morning,' Gina said. ‘Places can be open on Saturday morning.'

‘If he isn't too tired after driving girls around in his Jag,' Angelo said.

‘Is that what you'd do if you had a Jag?'

‘Certainly not.'

‘What then?'

‘I'd drive women,' Angelo said.

Somewhat to Salvatore's surprise, in Bonnie's bedroom there actually was a clothes-line with a photograph hanging from it, held by two pegs. ‘There'e be,' Bonnie said. ‘The famous picture.'

Salvatore took the photograph down. He looked first at the picture of Kit Bridges. Bonnie stood by his side. ‘What about her bone structure?' she said.

‘It's excellent,' Salvatore said with the cruel dispassion of the artistic eye. He turned the photograph over. The word ‘Clint' was printed in large letters with the telephone number below it. The number was slightly smudged. Salvatore took it closer to the light.

‘One telephone number,' Bonnie said. ‘I always try to deliver what I promise.'

But Salvatore did not speak as he studied the telephone number.

‘Mr Detective?' Bonnie said.

Finally Salvatore looked up. ‘I don't know how to say this,' he said.

‘What?'

‘I'm going to have to leave now.'

Marie knocked gently on Rosetta's door. ‘Auntie Rose? Are you awake?'

From inside Rosetta called, ‘Marie?'

‘Can I come in?'

‘Of course.'

Marie opened the door and went in. Rosetta sat at her dressing-table, studying her image in the mirror. Her face was fully made up although she wore a dressing-gown. She turned to her niece. ‘What do you think? Is this good? Or too much for a lunch?' But as soon as Rosetta looked at Marie she no longer expected a second opinion about cosmetics. ‘Marie?' Rosetta said. ‘What's wrong?'

Marie's uneven breathing broke into sobs. Rosetta rose from her stool and enveloped Marie in her arms. The sobbing continued but decreased in intensity. The older woman led her niece to the edge of the bed and they sat. ‘What's wrong?' Rosetta asked.

‘I …' Marie began, but her gulps returned.

‘There, there,' Rosetta said.

‘I …' Marie began again. ‘I
hate
men! Just when you're doing what you think they want, they change their minds and decide to do without you at the last minute. They throw you off like … like a caterpillar! I hate them! I hate them!'

Despite the light of a full moon Gina and Angelo did not take the riverside path after they returned their car to its garage. This time they walked up the road to Walcot Street. But instead of going home they continued along the street until they were on the opposite side from the Shaylers'. There they stopped. They looked at the house. Only a dim light showed, on the upper floor.

Gina looked at her watch. ‘She'll be reading, and he's about to bring his Horlicks to bed.'

‘Unless this is a water night,' Angelo said. ‘And God help the washing-up liquid.'

Then Gina heard a rustle in the shadows behind her. She turned and saw a figure emerge.

‘Did you get my message?' David said. ‘Is that why you're here?'

The Old Man was restless. Having slept better the previous night—after all that wine—he wasn't particularly sleepy now, despite the approach of bedtime. ‘I feel like a sandwich,' he said. ‘You got any sandwich?'

Mama looked up from her knitting.

‘I know. Prosciutto. That's what I feel like.'

‘It's not what you look like,' Mama said.

‘Ha very ha.'

‘I'll have to go down,' Mama said. ‘There's none up here.'

Some nights the Old Man would have said he'd make do with whatever was in their own fridge. Tonight he said, ‘Me too, I'll come down.'

‘Suit yourself,' Mama said, lowering her knitting resignedly.

They were somewhat surprised to find the downstairs kitchen empty. The Old Man looked at the clock. ‘Huh!' he said. These days they all stayed up all night. It used to be that ten was bedtime, ten thirty snoring. Stay out till midnight, you expected someone to call for the police. No longer. Not now. They should have grown up in the village he and Mama had grown up in. ‘Huh!' he said again.

The Old Man seated himself and watched as Mama held the bread against her chest and cut it. She made the bread herself because she knew he didn't like soft English muck. Mama had taken to English life but at least, thank God, not that.

She finished with the bread and began her work with the ham. He could smell it. Good. He was trying to decide something to say, something she would like, when they both heard footsteps in the passage.

‘Company we got,' the Old Man said.

The company, surprisingly, was Salvatore.

‘What's this on a Friday night?' Mama asked. ‘You're all right? Is Muffin with you?'

‘I'm alone,' Salvatore said. ‘I went to the office first. The light's on, and the new computer's going crazy, but nobody's there. There's a message, from David. It says he's gone to watch outside the Shaylers'. Mrs Shayler rang. She says her husband is panicking.'

‘That poor woman,' Mama said.

‘So are Gina and Angelo around?' Salvatore asked. ‘Did they get back from Howard?'

‘We just came down,' Mama said with a shrug.

‘So nobody's around?' Salvatore asked.

‘I'm around,' the Old Man said. ‘But I don't count. Huh!'

‘Are you going to wait, Salvatore?' Mama asked.

‘I suppose so, Mama.' Salvatore sat at the table. ‘You do count, Papa.'

‘Nice sandwich?' Mama said. ‘Prosciutto?'

‘Don't do me any favours,' the Old Man said.

‘No thanks, Mama,' Salvatore said. ‘I just had some cheese on toast.'

‘And where was that?' Mama asked. ‘They serve such things at your Rose and Crown pub?'

Having been offered a simple explanation Salvatore preferred it to the hazards of the accurate one. ‘Yes,' he said.

‘So what business?' the Old Man said. ‘More Shaylers?'

‘Look at this,' Salvatore said, passing his father the photograph of Kit Bridges that the slimy detective had given to Bonnie the Regular.

‘Nice-looking girl,' the Old Man said. He looked at his son. ‘The model kind?'

They all heard the door open at street level. Mama went to the top of the stairs. ‘Gina, Angelo and David,' she reported.

The Old Man said, ‘The excitement starts, everybody shows up. Should I call Rosetta in here? And Marie?'

‘Rosetta has her beauty sleep,' Mama said. ‘Leave the girl in peace.'

In her desperation to distract Marie, Rosetta had led her niece to the new computer. In her desperation to be distracted, Marie had paid attention as her aunt turned the machine on and began to bring images to the screen. The first thing Rosetta and Marie did together was leave an electronic message in David's ‘mail box'. Marie provided rude text.

‘I'm surprised David isn't answering,' Rosetta said. ‘The other station is turned on.'

‘He can count, but he can't read,' Marie said acidly.

‘He must be able to read “Letter for David”,' Rosetta said. ‘That's what should be flashing on his screen.'

‘He's probably going crazy because
he
doesn't know how to use the electronic mail box,' Marie said. ‘He doesn't, does he?'

‘No,' Rosetta said. ‘We only worked with the graphics last night.'

‘I can just see him twitching because he doesn't know what to do. Let's leave him another message.'

‘All right,' Rosetta said.

‘I wish Jenny had one of these,' Marie said. ‘It would be mega to send messages. And we could do homework together without either of us having to leave the house. It's not like a computer at all.'

‘On the back,' Salvatore said.

The Old Man turned the picture over. ‘“Clint,” it says. And a telephone number. So?'

‘Look at the number,' Salvatore said.

The Old Man looked. ‘This number,' he said. ‘I know this from somewhere.'

‘Good, Papa, good,' Salvatore said. ‘Show Angelo.'

The Old Man handed the picture across the table. Gina and Angelo studied the back. Angelo said, ‘But that's the same number Jack Shayler has been ringing.'

‘Exactly!' Salvatore said.

‘But that means,' Gina said, ‘that the slimy detective is Howard the Printer.'

CHAPTER TWELVE

Shortly after eight in the morning, Gina left the house to walk to the Shaylers'. A post-midnight decision had established her lost pet as a carrot-coloured canary named Jasper. It was also decided that she must knock on the door of the house next door first, to establish credibility in case Jack Shayler was watching the street.

Considering the early hour on a Saturday morning the Shaylers' neighbour was surprisingly civil. ‘Ay, luv, I used to keep cage-birds myself,' a robust old man in braces told Gina when she explained about her missing canary. ‘Happiest days of my life, birding days. But the little buggers can be the very devil when they get out. Don't give up hope, though, luv. Delicate they may be, but sometimes surprisingly hardy. You never quite know what to expect from a canary.'

Gina gave the good neighbour a prepared sheet with fictional facts about Jasper and her non-fictional telephone number. Although it was all typed out, the man insisted on getting his specs before he was willing to conclude the interview. ‘Right then, luv,' he said when he was finally secure about the details. ‘I'll keep my beak up against the window looking out for the little fellow. That's a promise.'

Gina proceeded next door. The reasoning that led to Jasper the Canary instead of, say, Jasper the Tortoise was that it would be easier for Mrs Shayler. She could pick a moment to go to the window and declare, ‘Look, there's Jasper!' That a canary would not still be visible when her husband came to the window was entirely reasonable. Even so, Mrs Shayler would have to ring Gina to report the sighting. That's what good neighbours did.

Once on the telephone, Gina could ask Mrs Shayler yes-or-no questions. Are you all right? Can you come and see me? Do you want us to follow if your husband goes somewhere?

It was not the surest plan in the world, but it was the best the late-night gathering had come up with in response to ‘You'd better think of some reason to come round here in the morning,' as reported by David.

With any luck Jasper the Canary would also give Gina a chance to see their client and make sure she was all right. Not that anyone thought Jack Shayler would injure her. But if he was ‘panicking', who knew? The message that David had recorded so faithfully was a disturbing one.

Gina walked up the Shaylers' short path slowly. She was nervous. But in the event the door opened before she rang the bell. It revealed Mrs Shayler standing inside. Mrs Shayler looked extremely tired.

However, before Gina could speak, Mrs Shayler raised a finger to her lips. The meaning was, ‘Don't say anything.' Gina nodded, and then, with more boldness than Gina would have expected, Mrs Shayler stepped outside the house and drew the door shut behind her.

Gina whispered, ‘Are you all right?'

‘Oh yes,' Mrs Shayler said and then, as Gina watched, Mrs Shayler's grey and sleepless face was transformed by a smile. ‘It's all come out,' she said. ‘Everything. It's wonderful. I'm so happy.'

It was the last message that Gina expected. All she could say was, ‘So, what's it about?'

But Mrs Shayler said quietly, ‘He's asleep. I'd better go in now. I don't want him to wake up and me not be there.'

Gina said, ‘Ring or visit as soon as you get a chance.'

But Mrs Shayler disappeared into the house and closed the door without promising, or even acknowledging that she had heard Gina's request.

Gina stood for seconds on the doorstep, trying to absorb what had happened. When finally she turned to leave, she realized that she had not given Mrs Shayler the sheet she had prepared with the phone number and Jasper's description. No point sticking it through the letter box. By itself it was meaningless.

‘It's all come out. Everything. It's wonderful. I'm so happy.' Gina couldn't make sense of
that
at all.

She set off toward home, but she had made only a few yards' progress when the Shaylers' neighbour opened his door and hailed her. ‘Missus,' the old man in braces called. ‘Ayup, missus!' He beckoned her to return to his door and Gina could do nothing but accede to his wish.

In confiding tones the man said, ‘I saw how she turned you away next door, and now you're heading home. You mustn't give up, luv. They're an odd pair, them two. But don't take it to heart. If you give me that sheet of paper, I'll see they get it before the day's out.' The man nodded and winked. ‘Stand by me,' he said. ‘Mustn't despair.'

There was nothing Gina could do but give the good neighbour the page of details about Jasper the Canary.

Marie woke early by her own Saturday standards because there were things to arrange. She never set an alarm clock. If ever she needed to wake up early, she woke up early. She didn't understand people for whom such things were a problem. Neither did she understand why her parents, grandparents and brother were seated around the table when she appeared in the kitchen.

‘It's all come out? It's wonderful? I'm so happy?' Angelo was saying. ‘I don't understand. What can the woman mean?'

‘Morning, Marie,' Gina said.

‘What are you all talking about?' Marie asked.

‘It's another satisfied customer,' the Old Man said.

‘But what do we do now?' Angelo said.