Pressure Head by J.L. Merrow Page A

feel his plums—well, I could hardly say no, could I?”
    “No, I don’t suppose you could,” I said with resignation. “So how were they? Firm and juicy?”
    “Oh yes, and delicious.” It was a toss-up as to who was drooling more—Gary or his dog.
    I gave Julian’s fur a ruffle around his ears, and his eyes closed in doggy bliss. “So how come you’re here with me, rather than feeling up this bloke’s cucumber?”
    “More of a vegetable marrow, actually.” Gary smirked, then pouted. “I’m not seeing him until tomorrow. Well, I didn’t want to come on too strong .”
    “Who, you?” I said innocently. “Surely not. So, when do I get to meet Mr. Perfect?”
    “Next week, if you like. You can come and see him in his element.” Gary took a sip of his martini and gave a happy sigh, his eyes closed. Just for a moment, he was the spitting image of his dog.
    “You mean on his stall?”
    “Isn’t that what I said?” Gary picked up the cocktail stick with the olive on from his drink and waggled it at me. “Now, how about you, sweetie? Had any more blonds for breakfast?” He sucked the olive off the stick suggestively.
    “I wish,” I muttered. “I’m thinking of becoming a Trappist monk—I’ve heard they get more action than I do.”
    “Oh?” Gary’s eyebrow did its best to chase after his receding hairline. “That’s not what I’ve heard. I heard you’ve been spending a great deal of quality time with a rather magnificent specimen of homo blondus . Even,” and he leaned forward so far he practically did a nosedive into my pint, “looking at houses together.”
    I had to laugh. God, Phil would throw a wobbly if he knew we’d been spotted together and Conclusions Had Been Drawn. “Sorry, Gary, but you’d be a bit previous buying a hat for the wedding. That was the bloke who’s looking into Melanie Porter’s death, and we went into the estate agent’s to talk to her boss.”
    “We? Branched out into the Nosey Parker business, have you? So how much would you charge me for a really thorough investigation? Leaving no stone unturned, and poking into all my little nooks and crannies?”
    I put on a phoney Sam Spade accent. “For a good-looking dame like you, five hundred dollars a day, plus expenses. Cheap at half the price,” I added in my normal voice. “Nah, this is just a one-off. Phil reckoned he could use my unusual talents.” I did the air-quotes thing.
    “So go on, tell me about this Phil .”
    I shrugged. “Nothing to tell, really. He got hired by Melanie’s parents, and I’m helping him out.”
    “On a strictly professional basis? Or is helping him out the new euphemism?”
    I wish. “Told you, Gary, there’s nothing to tell.”
    “Straight, is he? Never mind, darling—just flash him one of your cheeky smiles, and you’ll soon have him joining the sisterhood and eating out of your underpants.”
    “Sounds a bit gross, that. And what sisterhood would that be?”
    “Sisters of Sodom, of course, what else?” Gary beamed. “I’ve got that on a T-shirt somewhere.”
    “Yeah, well, he’s already a member, as it happens.” Although I couldn’t see Phil wearing the T-shirt any time soon. “But it’s strictly business, me and him.”
    “For God’s sake, Tom, why? From what I’ve heard, he’s edible .”
    “We were at school together,” I reminded him with a sigh.
    “Oh—say no more.” Gary rested a commiserating hand on my knee and stared into his cocktail for a moment. “If I ever see anyone I was at school with, I run and hide. Force of habit, really. Let’s just say it was obvious from a very early age the only female heart I’d ever break would be my mother’s.” He looked up, brightening. “Still, if there were two of you—”
    “There weren’t. I mean, he wasn’t out, back then. Course, I never meant to be, either. But it wasn’t exactly a bonding experience, put it that way.”
    “Let me guess—he joined in the bullying in