O K by me, thought Joe as he ran lightly up the stairs, his muscles energized by the electricity of that kiss.
'Oh God,' said Butcher, looking up from an ancient copy of Reader's Digest. 'I thought at least I'd be safe from you here. Or are you just moonlighting as a porter?'
'Came to visit Mr. Naysmith,' said Joe. 'Heard you were here so thought I'd say hi.'
'Hi,' said Butcher. 'Joe, I thought we agreed, there's nothing but hassle in this business for you, so you were going to stay clear.'
That was till I got hired,' said Joe smugly.
'Hired? So that's why you're really here. Visiting your client in the psycho wing!'
Joe said, 'Ha ha. My client, Mr. Pollinger, is very well, thank you.'
'Darby Pollinger's hired you to look into who's killing his partners?' said Butcher on a rising note of incredulity that might have offended a less modest man.
'That's the strength of it.'
'He just rang you and said he wanted to hire you? Joe, it's a joke, one of your dickhead chums at the Glit winding you up.'
'No, he didn't ring,' said Joe. 'We bumped into each other at Penthouse, and I've got cash money to prove it.'
'At Penthouse? What was he doing at Penthouse?'
'I tell you what he was doing there,' said Joe, suddenly remembering he had a grievance against Butcher. 'He was visiting one of his firm's clients, a little fact you forgot to mention when you sent me on that wild-goose chase to consult with Potter. What kind of advice did you think I was going to get when it was one of their own biggest clients I wanted to mess with?'
'Is that right? Joe, I'm sorry, I really didn't know. And I don't think I mentioned the name of the firm when I rang Peter
'I mentioned it soon as I saw him,' said Joe. 'And he didn't say, Sorry man, I can't help you, I've got a conflict of interest here. No, all he did
It occurred to Joe for the second time that it was a bit naff getting het up about the professional standards of a dead man, who'd also once been a good mate of Butcher's.
'Sorry,' he said.
'What for?'
'You know, day mortuary, that stuff.'
'De mortui, nisi bonum, you mean? Frankly, I don't think Pete Potter would give a damn. But I'm surprised that, soon as you mentioned Penthouse, he didn't say enough, no more, this thing may not be.'
'Well, I suppose he had a lot on his mind,' said Joe generously.
'Like being just about to get murdered?' said Butcher.
'Like being in the middle of finding out someone had been ripping off the client accounts,' said Joe.
'So that's what this is all about?' said Butcher, smiling. Thanks, Joe.'
'Shoot! I never said that. Butcher, you tricked me into saying that!'
'Saying what you never said?' she laughed. 'Joe, you're too complex for me. But don't worry yourself too much about client confidentiality. From what I've picked up from Lucy Naysmith, I'd pretty well worked it out for myself.'
'Why? What's she say?'
'Come on, Joe. I'm not about to act as your snout, particularly not where my friends are concerned.'
'Must be a good friend to get you here reading about your wonderful glands while there's people getting downtrodden out there.'
'Yes, well ... Joe, what precisely are you getting at?'
'Nothing. Just find it odd that you went on so much about me keeping my nose out and now here I find yours buried deep.'
'I see. So what's your conclusion, Sherlock?'
Joe took a deep breath and said, 'Well, maybe you're more involved here than I thought. You said you and Potter had once been ... close.'
'Close sounds like it's in inverted commas, Joe. Better spell it out.'
'Well, you know, cherry-picking close
'You mean like, he was my first lover when we were students together?'
Her mouth trembled and for a second he thought he'd hit the mark. Then she began to shake with laughter.
'Oh Joe,' she gurgled, 'I thought I made it clear way back that I'd support you as a PI just so long as you promised never to engage your powers of ratiocination! I'm very sorry Pete got killed, but I'm not carrying some adolescent torch for him, believe me!'
'Yeah. OK. Sorry,' said Joe. To tell the truth he was rather relieved to be wrong. To see Butcher romantically distressed would have been like seeing light through a pint of Guinness.
