the kitchen table. And so’s her bag. And she’s not back yet.’
‘Okay, love. Switch it off and it won’t bother you again.’ I paused. ‘But . . .’ I continued. ‘Listen, son, I’m going to phone Alex Guinart.’
‘The policeman?’
‘Yes. She might not look it, but Auntie Ade’s an old lady, and sometimes old people can do . . . funny things. I shouldn’t have left you with her; I’m sorry.’
‘Auntie Ade’s nice, Mum. And she’s not that old.’
In spite of it all, I laughed at his protest. ‘You’re a gentleman, no question. But I’m still going to call Alex. Then I’m going to figure out what to do about you . . . and Charlie, of course.’
My cop friend’s number was the first entry in my book. I must have sounded tense because he was business-like from the very start. I told him where I was, gave him a potted version of why I was there, and explained what had happened at home. ‘I don’t like it, Alex. Either she’s got far fewer marbles than I thought and she’s wandered off, or . . .’
‘Or what?’
‘Or she’s been taken. Her son’s involved in a business scene, with some other people. One of them died here last night, and now Adrienne’s gone missing. That’s a big coincidence. I’m concerned about the whole operation, but most of all, I’m concerned about them.’
‘I agree,’ he said, firmly. ‘Give me a description and I’ll have our people look out for her, maybe stop cars at roundabouts, like we do often as routine.’
I did the best I could with the description: tall, dyed auburn hair, busty, looks early sixties although she’s not. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘What about Tom?’
‘Can you look out for him?’
‘Of course, Gloria will look after him. Tell him to go and sit in Esculapi. I’ll call and ask Pep to keep an eye on him. As soon as I can I’ll get up there and take him to our place. When will you be home?’
‘Soon as I can. If I can get a flight this afternoon, I will, but . . .’ I paused as I thought. ‘I may be able to make another arrangement for the wee man. I’ll let you know.’
I phoned Tom again, told him to go down to the pizzeria, and to treat himself, then found another mobile number in my directory, almost at the other end of the alphabetical list. I hit the green button and heard a familiar Scots voice. ‘Hi, Prim,’ said Susie. ‘Que tal in Spain?’
‘Dodgy at the moment. Where are you?’
In Oz’s final years, he and Susie had become tax nomads; it wasn’t just to shelter his money either. Before he got his lucky breaks, she was an established businesswoman, running the family building and property empire with considerable success. She had backed off a little after having her two kids, but after his death she had taken the reins again, albeit mostly from a distance. She had sold one of their three homes, in Los Angeles, but had kept the other two.
‘I’m in Monaco,’ she replied. ‘What’s up?’
I gave her the bones of the story, speaking as quickly as I could for fear that my battery would give out on me. She whistled as I finished. ‘Trouble still comes looking for you, doesn’t it?’
‘Don’t, Susie,’ I pleaded. ‘I’ve managed to keep my head down for the last couple of years.’
‘I suppose it’s the old story. We can pick our friends, but not our relatives.’ I heard her take a deep breath. ‘Right, this is what’s going to happen. I’m going to get Conrad Kent into a car right now, and on the road to L’Escala. He can do it in five hours, easy. He’ll pick up Tom and bring him here. Janet and Jonathan are looking forward to him coming to visit in August, so this will be an extra treat for them. Once he’s here, you don’t have to worry about him.’
I sighed my relief, for that was very true. Conrad is ex-military, and not the man you mess with. ‘Thanks, Susie, thanks a million. I’ll make sure he’s ready to go.’ A further thought struck me. ‘This is pushing it,’ I
‘Okay, love. Switch it off and it won’t bother you again.’ I paused. ‘But . . .’ I continued. ‘Listen, son, I’m going to phone Alex Guinart.’
‘The policeman?’
‘Yes. She might not look it, but Auntie Ade’s an old lady, and sometimes old people can do . . . funny things. I shouldn’t have left you with her; I’m sorry.’
‘Auntie Ade’s nice, Mum. And she’s not that old.’
In spite of it all, I laughed at his protest. ‘You’re a gentleman, no question. But I’m still going to call Alex. Then I’m going to figure out what to do about you . . . and Charlie, of course.’
My cop friend’s number was the first entry in my book. I must have sounded tense because he was business-like from the very start. I told him where I was, gave him a potted version of why I was there, and explained what had happened at home. ‘I don’t like it, Alex. Either she’s got far fewer marbles than I thought and she’s wandered off, or . . .’
‘Or what?’
‘Or she’s been taken. Her son’s involved in a business scene, with some other people. One of them died here last night, and now Adrienne’s gone missing. That’s a big coincidence. I’m concerned about the whole operation, but most of all, I’m concerned about them.’
‘I agree,’ he said, firmly. ‘Give me a description and I’ll have our people look out for her, maybe stop cars at roundabouts, like we do often as routine.’
I did the best I could with the description: tall, dyed auburn hair, busty, looks early sixties although she’s not. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘What about Tom?’
‘Can you look out for him?’
‘Of course, Gloria will look after him. Tell him to go and sit in Esculapi. I’ll call and ask Pep to keep an eye on him. As soon as I can I’ll get up there and take him to our place. When will you be home?’
‘Soon as I can. If I can get a flight this afternoon, I will, but . . .’ I paused as I thought. ‘I may be able to make another arrangement for the wee man. I’ll let you know.’
I phoned Tom again, told him to go down to the pizzeria, and to treat himself, then found another mobile number in my directory, almost at the other end of the alphabetical list. I hit the green button and heard a familiar Scots voice. ‘Hi, Prim,’ said Susie. ‘Que tal in Spain?’
‘Dodgy at the moment. Where are you?’
In Oz’s final years, he and Susie had become tax nomads; it wasn’t just to shelter his money either. Before he got his lucky breaks, she was an established businesswoman, running the family building and property empire with considerable success. She had backed off a little after having her two kids, but after his death she had taken the reins again, albeit mostly from a distance. She had sold one of their three homes, in Los Angeles, but had kept the other two.
‘I’m in Monaco,’ she replied. ‘What’s up?’
I gave her the bones of the story, speaking as quickly as I could for fear that my battery would give out on me. She whistled as I finished. ‘Trouble still comes looking for you, doesn’t it?’
‘Don’t, Susie,’ I pleaded. ‘I’ve managed to keep my head down for the last couple of years.’
‘I suppose it’s the old story. We can pick our friends, but not our relatives.’ I heard her take a deep breath. ‘Right, this is what’s going to happen. I’m going to get Conrad Kent into a car right now, and on the road to L’Escala. He can do it in five hours, easy. He’ll pick up Tom and bring him here. Janet and Jonathan are looking forward to him coming to visit in August, so this will be an extra treat for them. Once he’s here, you don’t have to worry about him.’
I sighed my relief, for that was very true. Conrad is ex-military, and not the man you mess with. ‘Thanks, Susie, thanks a million. I’ll make sure he’s ready to go.’ A further thought struck me. ‘This is pushing it,’ I
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