with a Mickey Mouse pattern. He had been to university and cultivated a posh accent. He was good for Joe′s agency: gave it a slightly more modern image. His brain and youthful trendiness complemented Joe′s experience and renowned cunning.
″Trouble with Sammy Winacre, Andy,″ Joe said. ″She′s told a newspaper reporter that she′s in love and she′s giving up acting.″
Andy rolled his eyes up. ″I always said that chick was weird. Who is the guy?″
″Name′s Tom Copper.″
″Who the hell is he?″
″Thatʹs what I want to find out.″ Joe ripped the sheet of paper from his pad and handed it over. ″Quick as you like.″
Andy nodded and left. Joe relaxed slightly. He felt better with Andy working on the problem. For all his charm and fine manners, the lad had very sharp teeth.
It was a warm evening, with a summery smell in the still air. The sunset over the rooftops leaked blood into the high, sparse clouds. Samantha turned away from the basement window and went to the cocktail cabinet.
Tom put a jazz record on the player and sprawled on the sofa. Samantha handed him a drink and curled up beside him. He put his large arm around her thin shoulders, and bent his head to kiss her. The doorbell rang.
″Ignore it,″ he said, and kissed her mouth.
She dosed her eyes and worked her lips against his. Then she got up. ″I′d rather keep you in suspense.″
It took her a few moments to recognize the short, velvet-suited man at the door. ″Julian!″
″Hello, Samantha. Am I bothering you?″
″Not at all. Would you like to come in?″
He stepped inside the door, and she led him down the stairs. ″I won′t keep you very long,″ he said apologetically.
Julian looked a little embarrassed when he saw Tom on the sofa. Samantha said: ″Tom Copper, Julian Black.″ Tom towered over Julian as they shook hands. Samantha went to the bar. ″Whisky, isn′t it?″
″Thank you.″
″Julian runs an art gallery,″ Samantha said.
″That′s a little premature. I′m opening one. What do you do, Tom?″
″You could call me a financier.″
Julian smiled. ″You wouldn′t like to put some money into an art gallery, by any chance?″
″Not my line.″
″What is?″
″You might say I take money from A and give it to B.″
Samantha coughed, and Julian had the feeling he was being laughed at. He said: ″Actually, it′s gallery business that brings me here.″ He took the drink Samantha handed him, and watched her settle snugly in the crook of Tom′s arm. ″I′m looking for someone attractive and interested to open the place. Sarah suggested I ask you. Would you do it, as a favor to us?″
″I′d love to, but I′ll have to make sure I′m not supposed to be somewhere else on the day. Can I ring you later?″
″Sure.″ Julian took a card out of his pocket. ″All the details are on here.″
She took the card. ″Thanks.″
Julian swallowed his drink. ″I won′t bother you any longer,″ he said. He seemed slightly envious. ″You look so cozy. Nice to meet you, Tom.″
He paused at the door and looked at a postcard perched on top of the thermostat on the wall. ″Who′s been to Livorno?″ he said.
″An old friend of mine.″ Samantha got up. ″I must introduce you to her one day. She′s just got a degree in art history. Look.″ She took the postcard down, turned it over, and showed it to him. Julian read it.
″How fascinating,″ he said. He handed the postcard back. ″Yes, I′d like to meet the lady. Well, don′t bother to climb the stairs with me. Goodbye.″
When, he had gone Tom said: ″Why do you want to open his wretched picture shop for him?″
″His wife′s a friend. The Honorable Sarah Luxter.″
″Which makes her the daughter of ... ?″
″Lord Cardwell.″
″The one who′s selling his art collection?″
Samantha nodded. ″It′s oil paint in the veins, you know.″
Tom did not smile. ″Now there′s a caper.″
The party was at the
″Trouble with Sammy Winacre, Andy,″ Joe said. ″She′s told a newspaper reporter that she′s in love and she′s giving up acting.″
Andy rolled his eyes up. ″I always said that chick was weird. Who is the guy?″
″Name′s Tom Copper.″
″Who the hell is he?″
″Thatʹs what I want to find out.″ Joe ripped the sheet of paper from his pad and handed it over. ″Quick as you like.″
Andy nodded and left. Joe relaxed slightly. He felt better with Andy working on the problem. For all his charm and fine manners, the lad had very sharp teeth.
It was a warm evening, with a summery smell in the still air. The sunset over the rooftops leaked blood into the high, sparse clouds. Samantha turned away from the basement window and went to the cocktail cabinet.
Tom put a jazz record on the player and sprawled on the sofa. Samantha handed him a drink and curled up beside him. He put his large arm around her thin shoulders, and bent his head to kiss her. The doorbell rang.
″Ignore it,″ he said, and kissed her mouth.
She dosed her eyes and worked her lips against his. Then she got up. ″I′d rather keep you in suspense.″
It took her a few moments to recognize the short, velvet-suited man at the door. ″Julian!″
″Hello, Samantha. Am I bothering you?″
″Not at all. Would you like to come in?″
He stepped inside the door, and she led him down the stairs. ″I won′t keep you very long,″ he said apologetically.
Julian looked a little embarrassed when he saw Tom on the sofa. Samantha said: ″Tom Copper, Julian Black.″ Tom towered over Julian as they shook hands. Samantha went to the bar. ″Whisky, isn′t it?″
″Thank you.″
″Julian runs an art gallery,″ Samantha said.
″That′s a little premature. I′m opening one. What do you do, Tom?″
″You could call me a financier.″
Julian smiled. ″You wouldn′t like to put some money into an art gallery, by any chance?″
″Not my line.″
″What is?″
″You might say I take money from A and give it to B.″
Samantha coughed, and Julian had the feeling he was being laughed at. He said: ″Actually, it′s gallery business that brings me here.″ He took the drink Samantha handed him, and watched her settle snugly in the crook of Tom′s arm. ″I′m looking for someone attractive and interested to open the place. Sarah suggested I ask you. Would you do it, as a favor to us?″
″I′d love to, but I′ll have to make sure I′m not supposed to be somewhere else on the day. Can I ring you later?″
″Sure.″ Julian took a card out of his pocket. ″All the details are on here.″
She took the card. ″Thanks.″
Julian swallowed his drink. ″I won′t bother you any longer,″ he said. He seemed slightly envious. ″You look so cozy. Nice to meet you, Tom.″
He paused at the door and looked at a postcard perched on top of the thermostat on the wall. ″Who′s been to Livorno?″ he said.
″An old friend of mine.″ Samantha got up. ″I must introduce you to her one day. She′s just got a degree in art history. Look.″ She took the postcard down, turned it over, and showed it to him. Julian read it.
″How fascinating,″ he said. He handed the postcard back. ″Yes, I′d like to meet the lady. Well, don′t bother to climb the stairs with me. Goodbye.″
When, he had gone Tom said: ″Why do you want to open his wretched picture shop for him?″
″His wife′s a friend. The Honorable Sarah Luxter.″
″Which makes her the daughter of ... ?″
″Lord Cardwell.″
″The one who′s selling his art collection?″
Samantha nodded. ″It′s oil paint in the veins, you know.″
Tom did not smile. ″Now there′s a caper.″
The party was at the
Similar Books
