Mele Kalikimaka Mr Walker by Robert G. Barrett Page A

‘Just before we go any further, brother, I’ll take a look in your bag.’
    â€˜Sure,’ answered Les.
    The big man went through Norton’s overnight bag, then very professionally patted him down. ‘Okay. This way.’
    The driveway was more a courtyard of rust-coloured paved bricks. This led across to a double garage and a solid oak door embossed with bronze dragons, above which was a short tiled roof supported by four marble columns. Landscaped lava flowerbeds ran up to the columns, and hanging from the open-air roof were a number of indoor flowers and several bronze and shell mobiles. The big man thumped once on the door which soon opened to an attractive Asian maid in a black uniform.
    â€˜This way please, sir,’ she said.
    The big man disappeared as Norton stepped inside and had a quick look around. The house was furnished mainly in jade, white and a kind of soft mustard, and had plain beige carpet. Although the house was fully air-conditioned, ceiling fans spun silently, just rippling an abundance of tall indoor plants. It was split level with stairs going up, and on the other side of the sunken lounge facing him Les noticed a spiral staircase out on a verandah with a sparkling blue swimming pool behindit. All the furniture was pastel-coloured, comfortable and expensive-looking. There was a black TV and stereo stand against one wall, paintings, silk fans and bronze plaques hung on the other walls, and on just about every table sat a jade or onyx lampstand. Two ceramic cheetahs were at the top of the short staircase where Les stood and at the bottom was a family of solid onyx cats. The house had a kind of Asian feel about it. But whatever the feel it was all very tasteful and all very expensive. The maid motioned for Les to go down the stairs into the sunken loungeroom.
    Sitting on a white lounge with the pool behind her was the same blonde in the newspaper photo only she was wearing a sheer, cinnamon-coloured woollen dress with an orange, carved coral necklace. Her blonde hair bobbed over a pair of diamond earrings and this time without the sunglasses there was no mistaking those hazel eyes and the smartarse smile — which turned into a wide grin when she saw Les coming down the stairs.
    â€˜Les bloody Norton,’ she said, getting up and walking over. ‘As I live and breathe.’
    â€˜Andrea bloody Hayden,’ replied Norton. ‘What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?’
    â€˜You big shit.’ The owner jigged up to Norton and threw her arms around him. ‘Jesus, it’s good to see you.’
    â€˜You too, Andrea.’ Les squeezed her in return. ‘It’s always good to see an old friend.’
    Andrea gave Les a big sloppy kiss on the lips then stepped back with his hands in hers and looked up at him. ‘You look so well, Les. And I still can’t believe it.’
    â€˜I can’t quite believe it either, Andrea,’ smiled Les.‘And you look pretty good yourself, you little shit.’ Norton let his eyes run round the room. ‘You don’t look like you’re starving either.’
    â€˜How the bloody hell did you find me?’
    â€˜Just asked the first Aussie cop I bumped into where you were and he did everything but draw me a map.’ An odd look flashed across Andrea’s face. ‘How about making us a cup of coffee and I’ll tell you exactly what’s going on.’
    â€˜Coffee you got,’ said Andrea enthusiastically. ‘Come on, grab a seat on the lounge.’ She led Norton over to where she’d been sitting and they sat down next to each other. ‘Les Norton.’ Andrea kept shaking her head. ‘I still can’t bloody believe it.’
    â€˜It’s me all right,’ said Les. ‘The Tripeman.’
    Andrea laughed out loud. ‘I nearly died when I got that message. You stupid bugger. And don’t ever bloody call me Fenwick again,