close to drowning even Gary top-decibel ling 'Another Rock'N'Roll Christmas' from the juke box.
For Joe, however, half seven wasn't early but late. He had no firm commitment to be at Beryl's flat by any particular time, but she'd mentioned putting Desmond to bed and Joe would hate her to think he'd deliberately hung back till he was sure the youngster was safely tucked away. What was keeping him here was his appointment with Dildo Doberley. Six o'clock, they'd arranged. Where the shoot was the guy? Anyone else, and Joe would have been long gone, but his job was hard enough without messing up his main contact in the local constabulary. OK, Willie Woodbine had the rank and authority to dish out the real gems, but he only cast his pearls on the waters when he felt a bit clueless and reckoned Joe might return them after many days. (Or something like that. Despite the combined efforts of Aunt Mirabelle and Rev. Pot, Joe was a pretty mediocre Bible scholar.) Dildo, on the other hand, might be a mere hewer of wood but at least he tried to carve out what Joe needed to know.
But where was he? Merv had just come in with Molly McShane glowing on his arm. She spotted Joe, disengaged herself and headed towards him.
'All alone?' she said. 'Shall I give that friend I mentioned a ring?'
'No, it's OK, I'm waiting for somebody.'
'Should've known,' she said approvingly. 'Good-looking chap like you can pick his own girl.'
'No, well, actually, it's a fella ...'
Her eyes rounded in lunar amazement.
'You don't say? Well, Joe, that really amazes me, I'd never have guessed.'
'No! I don't mean ... I mean it's not ... he's just a ...'
Joe's confusion faded as he realized she was shaking with laughter. With her splendid figure, in a clinging silk blouse, it was a sight worth paying cash money to see.
'It's OK, Joe,' she said. 'When you've been around as long as I have you can tell if a guy's AC or DC from a hundred yards.'
'Oh, my date's definitely DC,' said Joe, appreciating his own wit. 'How's that lovely granddaughter of yours?'
'Oh, she's grand. It's her mother that bothers me. An hour, she said! She was so long coming back I wondered if I'd get away tonight. Then she has the cheek to ask me if I'd watch the little girl tomorrow! I sometimes think she must have been a changeling!'
'No way,' said Joe. Those're designer looks she's got, not off the peg.'
'Now that's a sweet tongue you've got there, Joe. No wonder you drink Guinness. You need the bitterness to stop your mouth tasting of sugar candy all the time.'
'Hello, hello, not sure if I like the drift of this conversation,' said Big Merv, whc 'd turned up with a couple of drinks. 'Joe, I don't mind you picking up my cast-offs, but I object to you trying to cut me out.'
'Cast-offs, is it?' said Molly. 'You mean there's been women you got tired of before they got tired of you? I don't believe it. I've only been going out with you six months and already I know most of your taxi stories off by heart.'
'Six months? It's more like three,' protested Merv.
'Is that all? Seems a lot longer,' said Molly, winking at Joe who laughed and said, 'Walked into that one, Merv.'
'Not to worry. Just wait till it really is six months, she'll be thinking they passed like last night's beer. Mind if we join you, Joe?'
'Well, actually, my date's just arrived.'
Merv turned to see DC Dildo Doberley heading their way.
'Bloody hell, Joe,' said Merv. 'I know Beryl's been away, but surely you're not this desperate! Come on, doll. There's a table over there.'
Before Molly followed, she stooped to Joe and said, 'What we were talking about, I thought I'd take Feelie to the park tomorrow. If you can manage it...'
'Can't promise,' said Joe. 'Hey, I thought you were going to come down hard on Dorrie?'
'I'm like you, a big softie,' she said, ruffling his hair. 'See you, I hope.'
Dildo glanced after her as he slumped in a chair and said, 'I could fancy some of that. But not now. That bastard Chivers could work the dick off a blind donkey.'
Joe took this as an apology for being late. He also noted to his relief that the DC and his sergeant hadn't spent the afternoon building bridges.
'Yeah, I know the type,' he said. 'You do all the work, he takes all the credit. Got you running around on this lawyer case, has he?'
'Running? More like galloping! My bet is that this wanker Montaigne is going to turn up smiling after spending a week up some sodding Alp with the local mayor's wife.'
'Oh,' said Joe trying to sound casual. This was better than he'd hoped, finding Doberley pissed off enough to talk about the Poll-Pott case. 'You haven't found him yet then?'
'No, that's the bloody trouble. No one's got an address in France for him. The Frogs got in touch with his mother but seems she just shrugged and said, you never can tell with our Victor, says he'll probably drop by sometime over the holiday, but if the skiing's good, or something better turns up en route
'At least you can check if he actually left the country. Can't you?'
'We can try. According to the couple who live in the next apartment, he was flying out of Heathrow on the twenty third. We had all the likely flights to France checked and sure enough, there was a Victor Montaigne booked
