Shape of Snakes

He gave me a quick peck. 'Where's Sam?'

'Didn't he phone you?'

'No.'

'He got tied up at the last minute and couldn't make it,' I lied with convincing regret, 'so I'm on my own.' There was a beat of time while I pretended not to see the swift look of relief that crossed Jock's face. 'I didn't know you were into classic cars,' I said mischievously, patting the Mercedes's hood. 'You always hankered after the newest model in the old days. I remember how rude you were when Sam and I bought that secondhand Allegro estate.'

He made a dismissive gesture. 'I keep the Merc as a runabout. The Jag's in a lockup garage down the road.'

'A Jag!' I exclaimed. 'My God! Sam will be green with envy. He's been wanting an XK8 since they came out.' I looked past him into the shadows of the hall where a coin-operated telephone hung off the wall. 'Don't let me stop you if I've interrupted something,' I said. 'I'm in no hurry.'

He pulled the door to. 'I've some e-mails to answer.'

'I can wait.' I hitched a buttock onto the bonnet of the Mercedes and lifted my head to look at the house. It was an attractive building with sandstone bays containing the high, wide windows of which Victorian architects were so fond. According to Libby the house had cost him L70,000 in 1979 and, according to a local real estate agent, it was now worth upward of three-quarters of a million. 'Nice place,' I murmured when he made no move to return inside.

He nodded. 'I like it.'

'So what was wrong with it when you bought it? Sitting tenants? Subsidence? Dry rot?'

He looked surprised. 'Nothing.'

'You're joking! How on earth did you afford it? I thought you got a pittance out of the divorce settlement.'

He recoiled slightly as if I'd just revealed teeth. 'Who told you that?'

'Libby.'

'I didn't know you were still in touch.'

'On and off.'

'Well, she's wrong,' he said warily. 'She thought she could clobber me by hiring an expensive solicitor but he never came close to finding the investments that mattered.'

It is odd, I thought, how the memory plays tricks. In my mind, I had likened him for so long to a weasel that his rather charming face surprised me. 'It must have been a first then,' I said with a small laugh. 'You never managed to hide anything else from your wife.'

'What else has she told you?'

'That you moved a blonde in here before the ink was dry on the divorce. 'Young enough to be his daughter,' she said, 'but old enough to recognize a sucker when she sees one.' '

Another flash of relief. 'That's her jealousy talking,' he scoffed.

I laughed again, amused by his cocky expression. 'You always were a hopeless liar, Jock. It used to irritate me ... now it amuses me ... probably because I know so much more about your business affairs than Sam does.'

His expression soured. 'Like what?'

'Like you have an outstanding loan on this place of L500,000 which you took out to keep Systel afloat and now can't repay.'

There was a short silence while he considered his response. 'Is this something else Libby told you?'

I nodded.

'Well, it's a lie,' he said curtly. 'She doesn't know a damn thing about my finances. Hell, she didn't even know what they were twenty years ago, so she certainly wouldn't know now. I haven't spoken to her since the divorce.' He waited for me to say something and, when I didn't, he ratcheted up his aggression. 'I could sue you both for slander if you repeat it to anyone else. You can't go 'round destroying people's reputations just because you hold a grudge against them.'

I was tempted to say such considerations hadn't stopped him twenty years ago from helping Sam to destroy my reputation. Instead I said mildly: 'I'm always happy to be put straight, Jock. So which is the lie? That you don't have an outstanding loan, that you didn't plow it into Systel and lose it or that you can't repay it?'

He didn't answer.

'Perhaps you should have been a little more selective in your girlfriends,' I suggested. 'According to Libby, the blond bimbette was the first of many, and none of them knew how to keep her mouth shut.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Libby's been prying information out of them for years while you were out at work, and even she couldn't believe how indiscreet some of them were. All she had to say was that she was conducting research for a hosiery manufacturer, then offer them a dozen free packs of luxury tights in return for twenty minutes of their time answering lifestyle questions, and the floodgates would open.'

He frowned. 'Why the hell would she do a thing like that?'

It was a good question, but not one I was ready to answer. I needed him off balance if I was ever to get at the truth. 'She wanted to know how much you ripped her off in the divorce settlement.'

'None of my exes could have told her that,' he said confidently.