man.’
‘That is right, and he is, very lucky.’
‘I think his luck just ran out,’ I said. ‘I’ve got other fish to fry. I think I’ll pass.’
‘Don’t get fucking funny with me! That’s not the way it works and you know it. Mister Dark wants you to meet him tonight at twelve-thirty outside Aldwych tube.’
‘Shall I bring my membership card?’ I asked.
‘What membership card?’
‘My membership card to the Black Hand Gang. Now don’t you get fucking funny! I don’t meet strange men after midnight in the street. I’m not that kind of girl. And, besides, there’s altogether too many people want me out of the way for me to engage in that old malarky. So tell Mister Dark, thanks, but no thanks.’
‘All right, mate,’ said the voice. ‘Have it your way. We’ll be in touch.’ And he put the phone down.
I looked at the receiver, dead in my hand, and replaced it carefully on the hook.
‘Who was that?’ asked Fiona.
‘Someone called Jack Dark wants to see me.’
‘Who’s Jack Dark?’ she asked.
‘Dunno. Does the name mean anything to you?’
She pulled a face and shrugged. ‘Not a thing.’
‘Nor me.’ I said. ‘But he knows me, and like I said he wants to see me.’
‘What about?’
‘Who knows? I declined the offer.’
‘Do you think … ?’
I shivered as the speed took hold. ‘I’ve given up thinking for Lent.’
Fiona made coffee while we waited for Teddy. It was wet and warm which was the most that could be said for it.
He arrived about ten-thirty in the BMW. He was wearing a pale grey, double-breasted suit, white shirt, discreetly patterned tie and shiny black brogues. We watched him through the plate glass front of my office as he walked from the car.
‘Superfly,’ I said.
‘Hunky,’ said Fiona.
Fine, I thought, that’s all I need.
He pushed open the office door, posed in the doorway for a second and came in. ‘Nice place,’ he said.
‘Thanks, Teddy.’
He looked round. ‘Could do with a lick of paint here and there.’
‘Shall we talk interior design another time?’ I said. ‘Meet Fiona, a very good friend of mine.’ I emphasised the ‘good’.
‘Charmed,’ said Teddy.
‘Me too,’ said Fiona, and looked it.
Introductions over, I got straight down to the nitty. ‘Lupino,’ I said. ‘You say you’ve got a number for him?’
‘Yes.’
‘How come? Where did you get it from?’
Teddy looked at me and went over to where the telephone directories were stacked on a shelf behind my desk. He pulled out the Business & Services book and dropped it in front of me.
‘Under “L”,’ he said. ‘Where you could have found it. I thought you were supposed to be a detective.’
I felt like a berk.
I shrugged and thumbed through the pages and sure enough there it was: Lupino Fruit and Veg. Wholesalers, with an address in Nine Elms. ‘You could have told me that on the phone,’ I said.
‘And miss the look on your face? No way.’
I pulled over the telephone and dialled the number listed. It rang once. ‘Lupino’s Fruit and Veg,’ said a woman’s voice.
‘Mr Lupino please.’
‘I’ll see if he’s available. Who’s calling?’
‘Nick Sharman.’
The phone clicked and started playing the main theme from Chariots of Fire in my ear.
I looked at Teddy as I waited. The music stopped and the telephone clicked again. ‘What?’ said a man’s voice.
‘Bimpson Lupino. I’d like to talk to him.’
‘You and thousands, mate. What’s it about?’
‘I think he probably knows.’
‘Are we playing guessing games or what?’
‘Tell him it’s about Emerald.’
‘So?’
‘Does he know where Emerald is?’
‘Yes.’
So we were playing guessing games. ‘Does he know what happened to me last night?’
‘He knows a lot of things.’
‘Then tell him I’ve already slipped his name in the frame, and if anything happens to me or mine he’s likely to get a little visit.’
‘You are a silly cunt, aren’t you?’
‘That is right, and he is, very lucky.’
‘I think his luck just ran out,’ I said. ‘I’ve got other fish to fry. I think I’ll pass.’
‘Don’t get fucking funny with me! That’s not the way it works and you know it. Mister Dark wants you to meet him tonight at twelve-thirty outside Aldwych tube.’
‘Shall I bring my membership card?’ I asked.
‘What membership card?’
‘My membership card to the Black Hand Gang. Now don’t you get fucking funny! I don’t meet strange men after midnight in the street. I’m not that kind of girl. And, besides, there’s altogether too many people want me out of the way for me to engage in that old malarky. So tell Mister Dark, thanks, but no thanks.’
‘All right, mate,’ said the voice. ‘Have it your way. We’ll be in touch.’ And he put the phone down.
I looked at the receiver, dead in my hand, and replaced it carefully on the hook.
‘Who was that?’ asked Fiona.
‘Someone called Jack Dark wants to see me.’
‘Who’s Jack Dark?’ she asked.
‘Dunno. Does the name mean anything to you?’
She pulled a face and shrugged. ‘Not a thing.’
‘Nor me.’ I said. ‘But he knows me, and like I said he wants to see me.’
‘What about?’
‘Who knows? I declined the offer.’
‘Do you think … ?’
I shivered as the speed took hold. ‘I’ve given up thinking for Lent.’
Fiona made coffee while we waited for Teddy. It was wet and warm which was the most that could be said for it.
He arrived about ten-thirty in the BMW. He was wearing a pale grey, double-breasted suit, white shirt, discreetly patterned tie and shiny black brogues. We watched him through the plate glass front of my office as he walked from the car.
‘Superfly,’ I said.
‘Hunky,’ said Fiona.
Fine, I thought, that’s all I need.
He pushed open the office door, posed in the doorway for a second and came in. ‘Nice place,’ he said.
‘Thanks, Teddy.’
He looked round. ‘Could do with a lick of paint here and there.’
‘Shall we talk interior design another time?’ I said. ‘Meet Fiona, a very good friend of mine.’ I emphasised the ‘good’.
‘Charmed,’ said Teddy.
‘Me too,’ said Fiona, and looked it.
Introductions over, I got straight down to the nitty. ‘Lupino,’ I said. ‘You say you’ve got a number for him?’
‘Yes.’
‘How come? Where did you get it from?’
Teddy looked at me and went over to where the telephone directories were stacked on a shelf behind my desk. He pulled out the Business & Services book and dropped it in front of me.
‘Under “L”,’ he said. ‘Where you could have found it. I thought you were supposed to be a detective.’
I felt like a berk.
I shrugged and thumbed through the pages and sure enough there it was: Lupino Fruit and Veg. Wholesalers, with an address in Nine Elms. ‘You could have told me that on the phone,’ I said.
‘And miss the look on your face? No way.’
I pulled over the telephone and dialled the number listed. It rang once. ‘Lupino’s Fruit and Veg,’ said a woman’s voice.
‘Mr Lupino please.’
‘I’ll see if he’s available. Who’s calling?’
‘Nick Sharman.’
The phone clicked and started playing the main theme from Chariots of Fire in my ear.
I looked at Teddy as I waited. The music stopped and the telephone clicked again. ‘What?’ said a man’s voice.
‘Bimpson Lupino. I’d like to talk to him.’
‘You and thousands, mate. What’s it about?’
‘I think he probably knows.’
‘Are we playing guessing games or what?’
‘Tell him it’s about Emerald.’
‘So?’
‘Does he know where Emerald is?’
‘Yes.’
So we were playing guessing games. ‘Does he know what happened to me last night?’
‘He knows a lot of things.’
‘Then tell him I’ve already slipped his name in the frame, and if anything happens to me or mine he’s likely to get a little visit.’
‘You are a silly cunt, aren’t you?’
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