Black Daffodil (Trevor Joseph Detective series) by Katherine John Page B

might be a member of staff but it made sense for a minor dealer to hold down two part-time jobs. It would double his customer base. And selling gym membership and conducting tours of the facilities would give Jude a convenient cover to set up meetings with suppliers and customers.
    Trevor nodded. ‘From what I’ve seen. I might consider joining if I leave the hotel.’
    ‘I’d say the standard of this gym is on a par with that of a five-star hotel.’ Jude picked up a towel and slung it around his neck.
    ‘How do you know where we’re staying?’ Trevor asked suspiciously. There was only one five-star hotel on the bay.
    ‘I asked around.’
    Peter gave up waiting for Trevor to introduce him and offered Jude his hand. ‘Peter Ashton.’
    ‘Jude was worried about you last night. He thought you’d invented a system to beat the blackjack dealer. I told him you average an annual five grand loss.’
    ‘Last year it was nearer ten.’ Peter winced as Jude closed his fingers around his. ‘Some grip you have there.’
    ‘Sorry, used to guys who work out.’
    ‘Not wimps like me.’ Peter parried his hard look.
    ‘Join and I’ll come up with a tailor made exercise and diet plan that will turn you into …’
    ‘An even more handsome Adonis?’ Peter interrupted.
    Jude backed down. ‘Want the full tour?’
    ‘Why not?’ Trevor gazed at the treadmills, exercise bikes, elliptical trainers and stepping and rowing machines. He saw Peter looking at them and wondered if the same thought was going through his mind. The hollow tubing of an average exercise machine could be used to conceal a sizeable shipment of drugs. Perhaps he’d been on the job too long. Not so much meeting trouble halfway, but seeing it when it wasn’t there.
    ‘This place is well-equipped and, as it’s pretty close to office closing time, it doesn’t seem to be over-used,’ Trevor remarked.
    ‘Come back at six. We operate a booking system on some of the machines.’
    ‘What else you got here?’ Peter asked.
    ‘Hot tubs, sauna, swimming pool, massage – straight massage,’ Jude added in response to Peter’s leer. They left the workout area and walked down a corridor lined with curtained cubicles. Most of the curtains were open and half a dozen men were conducting a conversation about football while being oiled and pummelled by a team of male and female masseurs. Jude hadn’t lied about the ‘straight massage’. Judging by their looks, the masseurs had been chosen solely for their skill.
    ‘Cold pool,’ Jude opened a door and showed them a deserted white tiled room with a pool in the centre.
    ‘More like a bloody fridge pool.’ Peter retreated from the blast of freezing air.
    ‘Hot tub.’ Jude opened another door. Steam wafted out to meet them from an empty, bubbling tub. ‘We have twelve rooms like this, each hot tub can seat six, but we have a corporate one that caters for twelve, fifteen if you’re prepared to get cosy.’
    ‘Convivial as long as none of your colleagues have any nasty skin diseases,’ Peter observed.
    ‘We have to enter the pool area through the changing rooms.’ Jude took them down another corridor and pushed a door marked MALE CHANGING ROOM.
    It was deserted. Jude turned a corner, pulled a bunch of keys from his pocket and unlocked a second door. ‘Staff quarters.’ He opened a locker and lifted out a brochure. ‘Here you are, Mr Brown. All the details of the club are in there, including individual and corporate membership fees.’
    Trevor flicked through the pages. The last one was thicker than the others. When he examined it he saw two had been stuck together. He peeled back the corner of the topmost one and saw rows of pills encased in cellophane. He realised why Black Daffodil had acquired its name. They were shaped like daffodil trumpets.
    ‘Ninety,’ Jude whispered. ‘I may not be able to get more before the rights are sold. It’s rumoured the deadline on the auction of the formula is