Gun Street Girl (3 page)

‘As far as I can ascertain, he doesn't exist. I'm sure there are people by that name in Australia, but I can't find any trace of the man who opened that bank account.'

‘And the last payment coincided with the death of your mother?'

She nodded.

‘Just as a matter of interest, where was Catherine when that happened?'

She looked at me and her eyes widened. ‘You can't think … It was an accident. My mother went out on a charter boat. It hit a submerged wreck. Everyone on board died. You can't think that Catherine had anything to do with it. That's ridiculous.'

‘It was only a thought, Miss Pike,' I said.

‘You have a suspicious mind, Mr Sharman.'

‘I am paid to have a suspicious mind. And my suspicious mind asks me why you care so much about your half-sister.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Exactly what I say,' I said.

‘You don't know her. I care as much about her as anyone else in the world. She is part of my family, and my family is the most important thing to me.'

The room went silent except for the sound of cars rushing down the main road.

‘So what do you want me to do?' I asked.

‘I want you to protect Catherine and try to discover what's bothering her. To try and find out why my father died. To dig around for anything that will explain what happened. I want the truth.'

‘The truth sometimes hurts.' I knew that for a fact.

‘The truth can also set you free,' she said. There was no arguing with that. ‘And now we've got the clichés out of the way, can we get back to business? My father died under mysterious circumstances and no one is prepared to do anything about it.'

‘I'd hardly say mysterious. Unusual maybe, tragic certainly. If I remember rightly the coroner's verdict was suicide.'

She looked as if she was going to spit in my eye. ‘You read the papers.'

‘I could hardly have missed it. I read one owned by your father.'

‘Late father.'

‘Sorry.'

‘Which one?' she asked.

‘The one with the long words and no half-naked women on page three.'

‘A snob, Mr Sharman. It hardly goes with the surroundings.'

I looked around my shabby office and then back at her. Her grooming, even in mourning, made the place, and me, for that matter, look even more shabby. ‘Not all of us,' I said, ‘were fortunate enough to be born with money and privilege and still do a bit of hoisting on the side.'

‘Rude too,' she added. ‘I'm glad you can afford to be so cavalier with prospective clients.'

‘I can't, but I am,' I said. ‘I choose my clients with care.' Which I patently don't.

‘A rugged individualist.'

‘So I've been told.'

‘That's exactly what I need.'

‘Why not use your own people? I imagine a company as big as Pike has its own security force or can tap into one of the big boys for help. And anyway, surely Australia is the place to start.'

‘I've got nothing to go on but intuition. The authorities are convinced that Daddy killed himself. And the Australian end dried up with the last payment to Lorimar. I used our people to get the information I've given you. Banks don't give that sort of information readily. And you're wrong, Mr Sharman, anything that's happening is happening here, in London.'

‘So get your people here on the job.'

‘I don't trust them to do it properly.'

‘But you trust me?'

‘You saw me shoplifting and didn't turn me in, you helped me.'

‘That's hardly a recommendation.'

‘And I read about your trial in the papers.'

‘Nor is that.'

‘I don't know. You came out of it all right. You're honourable, and you're not bribable.'

‘Everyone is, you've just got to find the right bribe,' I said.

‘And you finish the job,' she went on as if I hadn't spoken.

‘There is that, I suppose,' I agreed drily.

‘Well?'

‘Go to the police.'

‘The police wouldn't be interested. They'd simply go along with what the coroner said.'

‘That's fair enough,' I replied. ‘I'd expect that they would. But you say differently.'

‘I know differently.'

‘How?'

‘I just do,' she said stubbornly, and I supposed that in her world, when she said something it became true. I felt like telling her to join the rest of us in the real world. But like she said, she was a prospective client and she had money, so I let it ride. Like a jockey.

‘Your father was rich,' I said.

‘An understatement,' she replied.

‘Who inherits?' I asked.

‘Who knows?'

‘You mean you don't?'

‘My father was very good at keeping secrets. He kept a daughter hidden for over twenty years. He wasn't an old man and his will was his own affair. Pike Publications will always remain in the family, that I know for certain. Other than that only my father and his solicitor knew. The reading is the day after tomorrow.'

‘Why so long after the funeral?' I asked.

‘David had to fly to the States immediately and it couldn't be read without his presence.'

‘Breaths are bated,' I said.

‘You could say that,' she replied with the certainty of someone who would never be short of money.

‘Did he leave a note?' I asked. ‘I can't remember one being mentioned.'

She shook her head. ‘No, no note.'

‘That
is
strange, most suicides like to leave a last few words. But then I suppose he lived by words. Maybe he was right out of them.'

‘I can think of no reason why he might kill himself.'

‘You'd be surprised by the reasons that finally make people do it. The last straw can be a very tiny thing.'

She looked over at me and started to cry again, and I realised I was stamping all over her life in my size tens. I went round the desk and squatted awkwardly by her and took her hand. It was a lovely hand, I noticed, with only a single chewed thumbnail to mar it. I could have held it for a very long time. She was trembling and I squeezed her beautiful fingers. ‘I'm sorry if talking about it is making it worse. I'll do what I can to help, but there's a lot more I'll have to know. Can I get you something?'

‘Another cigarette and perhaps some coffee.'

I stood up and handed her another Silk Cut. I prepared two mugs of instant in my little back room. When I took the coffee through she had stopped crying. I lit myself a cigarette too and sipped at my drink. It was disgusting. I could see that she agreed but was too polite to mention it. I liked her for that. Then the cat woke up and jumped onto her lap. I told her to shove him off but she wouldn't, even when he dug his claws into her expensive skirt and, from the look on her face, the expensive legs beneath. I liked her for that too.

‘By the way. How do you know about all this?' I asked after a moment.

‘What?'

‘All the details about Catherine and her mother.'

‘From my father. In the end he didn't mind talking about it. I think he found it was a relief in a way. And from Catherine herself. We've become great friends, although she doesn't like talking about her early life much. It was tough.'

‘But your father never mentioned the other payments. The Lorimar payments?'

‘No, they only showed up since he died.'

‘Who found your father?' I asked. I hoped that it hadn't been her.

‘Our butler, Courtneidge,' she said without self-consciousness, as if everyone had a butler.

‘Forgive me, but I forget, where was this?'

‘In his study.'

‘No, where's the house?'

‘Our town house, in Curzon Street.'

‘Who else was in the house at the time?'

‘Our two maids, Miranda and Constance, and Cook. Everyone else was out.'

‘Who is everyone else and where were they? I'm just interested,' I added quickly to forestall any more comments about my suspicious mind.

She thought for a moment. ‘Catherine was at the theatre with Simon. He's our cousin. He's a house guest at the moment. Vincent – that's our chauffeur – drove them. I was at dinner with a friend.' She reddened slightly and I felt a twinge of jealousy for the lucky man. ‘And David, that's my brother, was at a publishing function with his wife Claire.'

‘How long have your servants been with you?'

‘Courtneidge for ever. He joined Daddy just after the war when he started to make money. Cook came to us ten years ago at least. Miranda and Constance have been with us for a couple of years and Vincent started driving Daddy just a few months ago when his other driver left.'

‘I see, everyone accounted for. That's good.'

‘Do you think that Daddy might have been murdered?'

‘I don't think anything, yet, but you seem to.'

‘I don't know what to think. My head aches when I do think about it. I want you to look into it. Will you take the job, please?'

How could I refuse? ‘You're convinced something is going on, aren't you?' I asked.

She nodded.

‘All right,' I said. ‘I'll see what I can do. No promises, you understand. You might be all wrong about this. When would you want me to start?'

‘I want you to start right now, today. And I want you on hand twenty-four hours a day. You can stay at the house. There's plenty of room. You'll be comfortable, I guarantee.' She went from pleading to bossing in the wink of an eye. Rich people, see.

‘No so fast,' I interrupted. ‘I can't just drop everything. I have arrangements to make.'

‘What kind of arrangements?' she asked, as if I was just sitting around with nothing to do but jump at her command. Which I was in a way, but she didn't have to know that.

I nodded towards my cat who was lying comatose on her lap. ‘That kind of arrangement, for one thing. I can't just dump the poor little bugger on the street. I have a friend who'll take care of him. Why don't I sort myself out and meet you tomorrow?'

‘Because there's an important reception we have to attend tonight. I want you there to nose around for information.'

‘Reception?' I asked, smelling a free drink or ten.

‘Yes, we're going to the launch of our new magazine. It's called
Cause Célèbre
, a sort of glossy mix of
Interview
and
Ritz
.'

I was glad that I was hip and knew what she was talking about.

‘It's rubbish really,' she went on. ‘But it was my father's last project. He thought it would sell and who am I to argue?'

Who indeed? I thought.

‘The reception is at the Crypt Club in Dean Street, beginning at ten. You'll have a chance to meet a lot of the people involved with Pike's.'

I can hardly wait, I thought.

‘And then tomorrow you can meet David.'

‘Won't David be at the reception?'

‘No, he won't be back from the States until tomorrow.'

‘Just out of interest, how did your brother take to having Catherine turn up. Like a sort of cuckoo in the nest.'

‘He wasn't keen at first, but he came round. He's not crazy about women.' I looked at her, and she blushed. ‘No, I don't mean that. He's married, after all. It's just that he's a man's man. Daddy wanted that. And especially where the business is involved. David thinks it's a sort of exclusive gentlemen's club. I'm hosting the party tonight and he thinks it will be a disaster. Catherine will be there, you can keep her company.'

‘Okay,' I said. ‘Just give me some details and I'll catch up with you this evening.'

‘Such as?' she queried.

‘If I'm coming to stay, I should know what number Curzon Street you live.'

She told me.

‘Telephone number?'

She gave me a number which I jotted down on the pad under the notes I had made. I looked at my watch and was glad I hadn't had to hock the Rolex. ‘It's nearly one now,' I said. ‘I should be with you by five, six at the latest.'

‘Excellent. You can join Catherine for dinner. I have things to do, so I'll leave you to get acquainted. And would you mind wearing a jacket?'

‘Tails?' I asked.

‘A lounge suit will be sufficient, and a tie, if you don't mind.'

It was funny that she mentioned a tie. ‘I believe I can still remember how to knot one.'

‘Good. Now, one last thing, your fee.'

I thought she was never going to mention it.

‘I believe you charge two hundred pounds a day,' she said, all business.

‘You've been checking up on me.'

‘Of course. That is your fee, isn't it?'

‘Plus expenses and mileage.'

‘There should be no expenses, and you won't need a car, you'll travel with us in the Rolls. However, if you do incur any out of pocket expenses, you must obtain receipts and submit them on a company expense sheet that I will provide. You can pay them out of your advance.'

‘Advance?'

She bent down to dig into her huge handbag yet again and disturbed the cat. He jumped down and gave her a dirty look and went back to his favourite spot by his drinking bowl. Out of the bag she pulled two banded bricks of bank notes. ‘Ten days in advance,' she said. ‘Two thousand pounds. If you supply me with a VAT invoice I will see that the amount is made up.'

‘I'm not registered.'

She nodded as if to say that she guessed as much. ‘I'd appreciate a receipt anyway.'

If she thought I was going to offer a discount for cash, no questions asked, she was barking up the wrong alley. Although it was a tempting idea, my bank account being in the state it was. But I wouldn't give her the satisfaction. ‘I'll let you have one,' I said.

‘Thank you.'