'I already know what it's worth. And where it is. I just need it collecting. You see, I own it.'
My brow cleared. A simple vannie's removal job. Well, in my state I wasn't proud.
'That's easy.' For some reason I'd been getting anxious.
'It isn't, Lovejoy.' That horrid smile was worrying me. The more I saw of it the less I liked it. 'But I saw the way you broke the auctioneer's arm—'
That got me mad, because people have no right to go suspecting things people don't want suspected. 'I did no such thing!'
'You did,' he said flatly. 'I've used the same trick myself. Pretend to help somebody in a brawl and put their elbow backward over the edge of a desk. It never fails.' His face was expressionless now. I noticed his eyes were always on the go, flicking glances here and there as we talked. My brow cleared and I thought, oh Christ. What have I got into?
He continued, 'And that dealer in the pub. Big and tough. But you sorted him out.
Never seen anybody move so fast in my life. You're the man I've been looking for.'
'To do a vannie's job?' He looked puzzled till I explained. Vannies are the humpers of our trade, mere shifters. A right mob of brainless old boozers they are too.
He heard me out and shook his head. 'Nothing that simple. You see, Lovejoy, somebody else has got my antique. And I want you to get it back.' His voice chilled me, and I'm not easily chilled.
He'd said 'get'. Not buy, not bid, not collect. Get. As in rob?
'Why can't you, erm, get it, Mr Arcellano?'
'Because it's risky. I might get caught.'
I thought, bloody hell. It's a rip. The bastard actually wants me to do a rip. Not him, note, because it's frigging risky. I rose, full of bitterness. It had all been too good to be true. Back to the cold snow and a quick rape over Ann's lace in the village. Maybe there was a slender chance of fitting in a quick hot nosh, though other times I'd called round I'd had to nick what I could from her fridge while she went to the loo.
'Sod off, mate.'
'Sit down, Lovejoy.' His face lifted. His smile was there again. I'd never seen such an unhappy smile. 'You just risked gaol for that old man—'
'Tinker's my barker,“ I said. My chest felt tight. I was in some sort of scrap and losing fast. 'I'm responsible for him.'
'And Margaret?'
How the hell did he know about Margaret Dainty? She and I have been close friends a long time. She's not young, yet despite her limp she has that elusive style some older women carry like blossom. I glanced around. Arcellano's two serfs were now sitting at a table by the door.
I subsided slowly. 'What is this?'
He blew a perfect smoke ring. 'Do the job and no harm comes to any of your friends—
or you. You'll not cry when you hear the fee.'
I swallowed. 'To nick an antique?'
He looked pained. 'Not steal, Lovejoy. I did say I already own it. Think of it as returning it to me, its rightful owner.'
'Who has it?' I said.
'The Pope,' he said.
'The who?' I said.
'You heard.'
'Fucking hell,' I said. 'You're asking me to…?'
'Another drink?' he said. He was still smiling.
CHAPTER 2
I've always found that youth's no deterrent to age. The ultimate proof was the Pinnacle Peak Language Academy, a big, modern but old-looking house on the outskirts of town.
Arcellano had instructed me to report there, making all heads turn by snapping his fingers that snowy January day in the pub and passing me the card one of his goons whisked over. The card read Specialists in Modern European Languages.
'You're going to school, Lovejoy,' he'd said. 'To learn Italian.'
'I'm hell as like.' I'd hated school.
'You register tomorrow.'
This was beginning to look too organized for my liking. 'Can't I just buy a phrase-book?'
'Not for this job.' He rose then, a gentle picture of threatening behaviour but still smiling. 'Your wages will be delivered every Friday.'
'Oh.' I cheered up. These language schools are all the same—a convenience for foreign students to get a visa and for our own students to go on the scive. Simply register, attend the first couple of lessons to show willing, then it's off to the boozer with a part-time job on the side for extras. I thought what a nice simple bloke this bloke was. And a charming nature. 'Right,' I said, keeping the card and carefully not yelping with delight as Arcellano and his
