Heavenly Pleasures (20 page)

Daniel let her refill his glass and told the company of the wicked bargain for Selima’s virginity, the dancing old men in the rainy back yard, the arrival of the leatherclad motorcyclist and the way Selima had leapt to horseback with a shriek of delight and had been borne away, her red veil streaming and all her ornaments jangling wildly, to freedom and peace. It was a good story and he told it well.

‘One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,

‘When they reached the hall door, and the charger stood near,

‘So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,

‘So light to the saddle before her he sprung!

‘She is won! we are gone over bank bush and scaur,

‘ “They’ll have fleet steeds that follow” quoth fair Lochinvar,’ Mrs Dawson quoted, clapping her hands. ‘Oh, well done! Is the young man a worthy knight?’

‘He is a very good, solemn, devoted student who would never hurt her,’ said Daniel. ‘As to whether it will work, well, one never knows that. Perhaps his glamour will fade when she isn’t in fear of betrayal by that cad George all the time. But perhaps not,’ he said, smiling at me. ‘Sometimes lovers who come in out of the dark and the rain, stay.’

‘So they do,’ I replied.

Unexpectedly, Mr White clapped me on the shoulder. ‘That was a good plan,’ he said. ‘But you took a chance! What if the boy hadn’t come? Chickened out at the last moment? Fell off his bike on the wet road?’

‘I’d have thought of something else,’ I said equably. ‘Quite fast. We had a getaway driver. By the way, how did you meet Timbo?’ I asked Daniel.

‘I helped him to get his licence back,’ said Daniel. ‘He’s a very good driver. Not one of his mates’ robberies failed because Timbo was driving the getaway car. They got caught because they were stupid,’ said Daniel. ‘He got a light sentence because he was so young and clearly not involved in any of the plotting.’

‘Oh,’ I said. Still, Timbo was a very good driver.

‘Well, I have an appointment this afternoon,’ said Mrs Dawson. ‘Let’s just clear up the dishes and we’ll leave poor Mr White to get some sleep. No, dear, let Daniel do it,’ she said as Meroe began to get up. ‘And I shall help him.’

‘Do you play chess at all?’ asked Jon of Mr White.

‘Just enough to be worth beating,’ he replied, yawning.

‘You will be welcome to try Kepler’s skills,’ said Jon. ‘Your bed’s all made. Get some rest, eh?’

Mr White went into his bedroom. When the dishes were done—there was no dishwasher, of course—we took our leave. My basket was quite empty of bread, which was gratifying. I took the relish back. From his taste in frozen dinners, tending to the macaroni cheese as it did, I didn’t think Mr White was likely to eat it.

‘You spoke to Viv’s friend,’ I challenged when Daniel and I were back behind closed doors.

‘Certainly,’ he said. ‘A nice girl whom you would be delighted to take home to mother. Her name is Kat and she is about your admirable shape, with long black hair. She’s a travel agent. She and Viv met at—’

‘Mardi Gras?’ I said. Daniel’s eyes opened wide.

‘However did you guess that? Have you been taking witchcraft lessons from Meroe?’

‘No. Jon told me he met Viv there.’

‘Ah, inside information,’ said Daniel.

‘Best kind.’ I sounded smug even to myself.

‘So it is. Kat really admires Viv’s skills and her conversation and stays out of her way when she goes berserk, as she calls it. They have no plans to set up house together. Kat told me that Viv was too exciting for close quarters. But they have got plans to travel together—Kat gets all kinds of discounts—when George is experienced enough to make chocolates for the shop every day for two weeks. Juliette and Viv have an agreement about that, according to Kat. They already shut the shop for a week in the middle of summer, after the Christmas rush. Kat doesn’t know Juliette very well, but says that Juliette is not interested in men, though not in the same way as Viv. Juliette had some sort of heartbreak and she is still recovering.’

‘Do we tell them about George and his blackmailing Selima?’

‘Oh, I think we should. They won’t sack him but it ought to wipe the smile off his pretty face,’ said Daniel consideringly.

‘And Viv isn’t going to fall in with his matrimonial plans,’ I realised, giggling. ‘He’s wasting his powder and his shot on a lesbian. Oh, poor George,’ I said, with studied hypocrisy.

‘And the ladies will have him over a barrel in dealing with the next girl who works there,’ said Daniel, breaking into an evil grin. ‘I think that George’s life is going to be really unpleasant, and it’s no more than the little rat deserves. But that still doesn’t get us closer to the problem,’ he said, allowing the grin to fade.

‘Never mind. Tomorrow I’m going to find out who owns that building and talk to the landlord. You go over those customer videos again. And we wait for events. We are going to solve this one,’ I told Daniel.

‘Perfect faith,’ he said in reply.

‘Perfect love,’ I finished the quote, and took him off to bed.

We got up about six and decided to ask the Prof if he felt like some company for dinner. He did and we went up to order pizza from Pizza Deluxe, who make amazing meals and also deliver. I love their barbecued chicken pizza. Daniel loves goat’s cheese and sundried tomatoes. The Professor prefers seafood.

Professor Monk has lived alone since his wife died. He sold their house and furniture and had Roman items made for his Roman apartment. I wondered how Nox was coping with her change in circumstances.

I should have known. Tent to castle, cats are adaptable. When we came in she was sleeping, in a small night-black ball, in the exact centre of a soft Pompeiian red cushion.

‘She picks her backgrounds,’ he told us. ‘She seems to like contrasts. I nearly sat on her when she was reposing on the black cushion, so now she avoids it.’

‘Where does she sleep?’ I asked.

‘Right next to my face, under my chin,’ he said. He seemed younger and his complexion was pink. ‘She curls up quite confidingly, sure that I am not going to roll on her.’

‘She’ll get out of the way if you do,’ I told him ‘Cats have very fast reflexes.’

‘I tried to persuade her to sleep in a rather nice cat bed which Meroe lent me, but she did not fancy it. Now, Daniel, if you would be so good, could you order the food? I’d like my usual seafood, and I’m sure that Nox will like it too.’

Nox woke while I watched, put out two tiny front paws, stretched elaborately, then trotted off the cushion and leapt onto the Professor’s lap. There she sat up straight in the pose made fashionable by the Egyptian Goddess Basht, tail curled around paws, perfectly self-possessed. Daniel ordered the food and held out a hand to her. She allowed her ears to be gently handled, rubbed her chin against his hand, then lost interest in him, diving onto Professor Monk’s wrist and growling ferociously as she disembowelled his hand with kicks of her back feet. He freed himself with some difficulty and put Nox on the floor, where she found that I had shoelaces and began to drag them out of my shoe. She was fascinating to watch, so we watched her.

Time passed in ritual acts of kitten worship. The creature had already put on condition. Her coat was beginning to shine. A few more square meals and you would never be able to guess she had spent more than a week trapped in the air conditioning.

But when the food came and the flat boxes were opened, Nox was transformed into a predator. She stalked the Professor’s seafood pizza, pinned it down under one paw, and began to tear and guzzle hot clams off the top with every sign of enjoyment. She was so completely focused he was able to detach a piece of pizza, put it on a plate and put the plate and Nox on the floor without disturbing her concentration.

‘She was hungry for a long time,’ he said. ‘I’m sure she’ll learn table manners when she is a little older.’

I wasn’t so sure. I suspected that when Nox grew bigger the only part of the pizza which the Professor would be allowed to keep would be the box. If he was lucky. As we ate we discussed the position of Mr Recluse, who seemed a nice man, or more of a good bloke, perhaps. I asked Professor Monk if he knew the chocolate shop ladies.

‘No,’ he said. ‘Well, not really. I only know them through their Uncle Max.’

‘And how do you know Uncle Max?’ I asked, picking a string of cheese off my lip. Pizza is not a delicate dish. Nox tore off a prawn and wrestled it into submission.

‘Oh,’ he said vaguely, ‘I’ve seen him around. Got talking to him in the shop, in fact. Have gone out for a drink with him occasionally when I met him in the street. I think he lives around here. An unhappy man. Probably drinks too much. Likes to gossip. He’s very proud of his nieces. I get the impression that he and his brother both fell in love with the same woman, and she married his brother, that is, the ladies’ father. Perhaps he never found anyone he liked as well. That can happen,’ said the Professor, a little sadly. Though Professor Monk had a wide female acquaintance, I doubt he would ever find anyone who suited him as well as his deceased wife. They had been married for more than forty years. You can share a lot of jokes and memories and quotes and heartaches in forty years. You don’t replace that overnight.

‘But we need some wine,’ said the Professor. He put his plate carefully on the table, and went to bring us a glass of his favourite red. As soon as his back was turned Nox left her denuded slice and made a wild dive for the table. I fielded her in mid flight.

‘You haven’t eaten all the anchovies yet,’ I reminded her, and put her down next to her plate again. She gave me a Meroe look but inspected the pizza for more tidbits. Daniel laughed.

‘Cats aren’t the only ones with fast reflexes,’ he said.

The Professor came back in with three glasses.

‘You haven’t eaten my dinner,’ he said to Nox. ‘What a good civilised kitten you are!’

Nox purred. I didn’t say a word.

We had to leave early because the next day was Monday and it was back to the bread. As we went out I saw Nox scale the Professor, occupy his lap and begin an elaborate wash.

‘There’s a man who is firmly under paw,’ said Daniel.

‘And loving it.’

C
_HA
PTER SEVENTEEN

Ah, Monday. I was rather looking forward to getting back to making bread, the weekend had been so full of incident. When I got downstairs Jason was there, pouring flour into the mixer. He was properly clad and shod and was singing his little song under his breath. Everything all right with Jason, then. I supplied a small snack in the form of several cheese rolls with Gentleman’s Relish and we began the day’s work in perfect harmony.

Rye bread, pumpernickel for a special order, pasta douro, wholewheat. Bread for all nations. Jason knocked off for a proper breakfast at Cafe Delicious and returned to compound a revolutionary raspberry muffin for the paupers to go with the chocolate ones for the working rich. The bakery smelt like heaven. I got a strong whiff of it as I let the Mouse Police out into the alley.

It had stopped raining for the moment. I took a deep breath of the rain-rinsed air. Mrs Dawson came past in her red slicker and bought rye bread.

‘I’m glad to see that you are noticing the weather,

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Corinna,’ she remarked. ‘I believe that it is likely to remain fine for a couple of days. You learn a lot about weather if you see both dawn and sunset,’ she said gnomically, and walked off briskly down the alley. She did not step aside when Ma’ani, intent on the last Soup Run, loomed over her. She just looked at him. He got out of her way.

It was a brisk day. Both sorts of muffins sold out. Bread went off to its proper destination. Kylie came in to serve. Pretty soon I was able to leave her with the shop and go in search of corporate information. It was not hard to find. The city real property directory told me that the whole building belonged to Lucinda Three, a shelf company if ever I’d heard of one. Further research online led me to believe that Lucinda Three was an offshoot of a rather big property trust called Reliable Properties. I always suspect anyone who needs to call their property ‘reliable’ so I did some more digging and finally came up with a board, noting down the names of the members. And, of course, the name and address of the landlord. I did not reel in shock, only because I was sitting down. I should have known. Something shonky going down in my neck of the woods, and who is going to be involved in it?

Why, James, of course. My very ex-husband. The last person in the world I wanted to meet, with the possible exception of Osama bin Laden. The man who quite recently had attempted to make me sell my apartment in order to buy into the company that was going to pull Insula down. That James. My gorge rose. However, I needed the information and I wasn’t going to get it any other way. I picked up the phone.

Actually, it was not so bad talking to James once I had got over the initial revulsion. I invited him to lunch at a very expensive Italian restaurant he favours, the Venetian, which has a $30 lunch special. Which was all I was intending to pay.

I said to Daniel, who was watching videotapes with Horatio, ‘I’m taking that creep James to lunch, expect disgusting revelations in about two hours,’ and he nodded. I dressed carefully in my black trousers and white shirt and black jacket, which made me look approximately legal. I put the corporate search printouts into my briefcase, which increased the resemblance.

Then I stalked off through the lunch crowd to find the person who had done so much towards ruining my life. It wasn’t James’s fault that I wasn’t a blubbery mess in a crimp
lene tent, baking cakes for the children’s school and unable to form an opinion of her own, despised by all. That’s what James wanted in a wife and he had tried very hard to mould me to fit. Eventually I had broken my dependence and walked out but he had done me considerable damage and I hadn’t forgiven him yet. This is why Meroe says I’m not doing too well in the karma department.

He was there, sweating slightly. He had lost more hair since I had seen him last and he looked puffy around the eyes, slack around the jaw and red-veined around the nose. This cheered me considerably (I’m going to come back as a cockroach, I just know it). I joined him at his table. A half-empty bottle of wine was already there. I was at least two glasses behind him.

‘Corinna,’ he said. ‘Nice to see you. Have you lost weight?’

‘No,’ I told him. ‘I like me as I am. Have you ordered?’

‘I was waiting for you,’ he said. This was a change. Usually James would only be half civil at a restaurant if he got to control the whole production.

‘Tell you what, I’ll have the pasta alla puttanesca and the steak,’ I said to the waiter. ‘Rare, if you please. James?’

‘I’ll have the soup and the steak, rare as well,’ he murmured.

‘What’s the matter, James? Business gone bankrupt?’ I probed.

‘No, business is good. I’ve got a new development opportunity in your area,’ he said eagerly. ‘Just around the corner from you in Calico Alley.’

He was actually going to tell me about it without being asked. Heaven was being kind to Corinna today. Cross examining James was always a bloody business.

‘Really? So you are Reliable Properties?’ I asked.

‘Just took the portfolio over. Apartments,’ said James, sketching luxurious accommodations for the rich and famous in the cold air. ‘Gut the building and construct luxury apartments.’

‘What about the tenants? There are tenants, I assume?’

‘All sorted out,’ he said confidently. ‘We’ve got a lot of capital available, I was able to make them very good offers. You interested?’

‘Maybe. Who did you deal with from Heavenly Pleasures? I asked idly, tucking into my hot, spicy pasta.

James told me. My heart went cold. But I let him keep talking, through a glass of wine and a very good steak with pepper sauce. Then I had another glass of wine. So did James. He was well fed but his huckster’s energy had suddenly deserted him.

‘What really is the matter, James?’ I asked, disposed to listen. After all, he had saved me hours of research. His lip quivered. I couldn’t help noticing that it had a blob of pepper sauce on it.

‘It’s Yvonne,’ he said.

‘Your wife?’

‘Yes.’

‘The one who wears frilly blue pinnies, makes sponges and stays home with your children?’ I asked.

‘Yes. But now she doesn’t want to. When this baby is born she wants to get a nanny and go back to work.’

‘What did she do before she met you?’ I asked.

‘She was a merchant banker,’ he said. ‘Very good at her job. But she wanted to have children. I thought she was happy,’ he said. ‘She was always there when I got home to make me a drink and ask about my day. She always got up to the baby and let me sleep through. I never had to hire a cleaner or eat takeaway meals. And now she says I’m exploiting her!’

There was really nothing I could say to James which might have got through to the selfish, irresponsible sod. So I laid some money on the table, patted him silently on the shoulder, and took my leave.

On the walk back I considered what he had said. James wouldn’t lie about it, he had no reason to lie. But it made me feel nauseous, and I wanted to know what Daniel had found out. Before I landed a bombshell like this one, I wanted to be sure of my facts.

‘Hello.’ I kissed Daniel on the neck, under the growing-out bristle of his short haircut. ‘Disgusting revelations coming up.’

‘I’ve got one too,’ he said. ‘I think. Look,’ he said.

I sat down in his embrace and watched the video.

‘Do you see what I see?’ he asked.

‘Slow it down, frame by frame,’ I demanded. My eyes were having difficulty with the lack of contrast. Then I saw what Daniel wanted me to see. Oh dear.

‘What shall we do?’ I asked.

‘We wait for the final piece of proof,’ he said gloomily. My black angel was not pleased with humanity today. ‘Then we tell them.’

‘I agree,’ I said. ‘I’m going to help Jason with the scrubbing. Back soon.’

There was no need to help Jason. The bakery was so clean you could have eaten your dinner off the floor, though in that event the Mouse Police would have claimed it first.

‘You got enough sleep?’ I asked him delicately.

‘Yeah. I’m going to see a drug counsellor Sister Mary put me onto,’ he said. ‘Every Saturday morning. It’s still there, Corinna. I thought it was gone but it isn’t. The little voice that says “get a fix”. So I’m going to see this bloke until it shuts up.’

‘Did you go out and score on Saturday?’ I asked.

‘No,’ he said.

‘On Sunday?’

‘No,’ he said.

‘Then you aren’t going to do it today,’ I said.

He thought about this. Then he said, ‘Yeah. Yeah, that’s right. See you tomorrow,’ he added, and went out.

The shutters were up, the Mouse Police were drowsing, and I was possessed of a furious energy. I went back to my apartment and scoured my kitchen, banging my pots until they rang, sloshing water over the floor. Then I shifted into the parlour and vacuumed my carpet within an inch of its life. I beat cushions as though they were personal enemies. Dust and cat fur rose in clouds.

Daniel and Horatio prudently withdrew to the balcony, where it was cold but peaceful. It took four hours for the fury to be exhausted and by then the apartment was shining and I was filthy. I went to take a long bath with chestnut essence.

Horatio and Daniel crept back. Daniel sat on the edge of the bath and said, ‘Feeling better, ketschele? My mother used to clean like that when she was angry.’

‘Better than hitting things,’ I said, sinking into the hot foamy water. ‘It produces a clean environment to be miserable in. And actually I do feel better. I hate meeting James. He reminds me of what I used to be like.’

‘And that was?’ His hand slid into the water, caressing my breast.

‘Frumpy,’ I said. ‘Convinced I was ugly. Ashamed.’

‘You were being what he told you to be,’ he said. The hand slid down further. ‘Briefly. Then you remembered that you were strong. And confident. And beautiful. And you are.’

This time I got out of the bath first. I had just cleaned that bathroom.

I woke slowly, aware of being clean and safe and embraced by a man I loved. That hadn’t happened to me at all before I met Daniel and I still wasn’t close to getting used to it. The phone was ringing. I picked it up, much against my inclination.

When I heard what the frantic voice at the other end was saying, I sat up. ‘We’re on our way,’ I said.

Daniel read the news in my expression.

‘All right, Corinna,’ he groaned, swinging his legs out of bed. ‘Let’s get this over with.’

We dressed, took the bag of equipment between us, and went soberly down to Heavenly Pleasures. Juliette was in tears. Even Vivienne was disturbed.

‘We’ll have to close,’ wailed Juliette. ‘Who could be doing this to us?’

‘I can show you,’ said Daniel. ‘Bring me the contaminated box. Set up the TV, George,’ he ordered. George did not protest but did as he was told. Daniel put the poisoned box down on the metal table and fished out what looked like a flashlight from his bag.

‘I marked all the new boxes,’ he said. ‘I marked them in ink which can only be detected under ultraviolet light. This is

a UV light.’

‘Like the ones in discos,’ said George.

‘Just like that. You’ve seen how they make a white shirt glow? This is the same thing. The trouble with this case,’ said Daniel, ‘is that no one seemed to have a reason to destroy your business. You might have your disagreements, and I have things to tell you about George’s nasty little games, but fundamentally you need each other. Neither of you were thinking of marrying and thus threatening the partnership. Selima had nothing to do with this. So, not only who, but how? If your kitchen was clean, how did the contaminated chocolates get into your stock?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Juliette, blowing her nose.

‘It was a puzzle,’ said Daniel. ‘There. See the mark? It’s an aleph. You can check it here, in my notes. This box was on your counter two days ago. This box has been taken out of the shop, the sweets have been doctored, and it was returned without you noticing.’

‘How?’ asked Vivienne, sharply.

‘I’ll show you how,’ said Daniel. ‘Run the tape, Corinna.’

We watched as several people came into the shop. Then in came an amiable old man in a coat with an astrakhan collar. He laughed as he waved his hands around, flirting with Juliette.

‘No,’ said Vivienne.

Daniel had a point to make.

‘Watch it frame by frame,’ he instructed. ‘Watch the left hand. The right is waving in the air—classic magician’s misdirection. Didn’t he do magic tricks at those great parties he threw when you were children? And the left hand comes up out of the pocket and—it’s almost too fast to see, but you can see it—puts a box into the pile on the counter. This box,’ said Daniel, ‘which was returned by a customer because of the soy sauce in the chocolate cream. Shall I show you the film again?’

‘Yes,’ said Vivienne. She sat down and watched it narrowly. Then she sighed. ‘Why?’ she asked.

‘You make a profit because your rent is so low. High rent: no profit. He had a very good offer for the rest of the forty-year lease from the landlord, who wants to gut this building and turn it into apartments,’ I said. ‘He could have taken the money and run. And you would have been so discouraged, you would have given up the business without a fight.’

‘It would have worked,’ said Juliette, breaking out into fresh tears and leaning unconsciously on Daniel’s arm as she staggered to her feet. I waited for jealousy to return so that I could fling it out. But not a green flicker. The hours I had spent recently receiving ardent proofs of Daniel’s affection had paid off. I wasn’t jealous anymore.

‘What are you doing?’ asked Juliette of her sister. She had a mobile phone in her hands.

‘I’m calling him,’ she said, pressing her speed dialler. ‘I need to see him and ask him why he did this to us.’

‘Don’t,’ moaned Juliette. Vivienne ignored her. George made a move towards the door and I caught his arm.

‘No you don’t,’ I told him. ‘Not unless you want your uncle Del and Yai Yai to know what you did to Selima. I don’t want to be here, either. But we shall see it through, George. Have a seat,’ I said. And we waited, for an agonising half-hour, until we heard the cheery voice at the door and Uncle Max swept in.