'News to me.'
He turned to go back inside. 'Not the sort of friends I'd like to have, though.'
I stepped down on to the pavement.
'One thing, Peeper!' he called after me.
I stopped and looked round.
'This Bronzini kid . . . was murder. Serious stuff. No room here for a private operative, you understand?'
'Sure.'
'If I find you sniffing round it, we might have to arrange for you to fall down the police station steps.'
I said nothing and walked away. An awful lot of people in this town had fallen down those steps.
'Kierkegaard or Heidegger, Mr Knight?'
'Sorry, you've got me there, Sospan.'
'It's Existentialist week; my latest promotion.'
'Give me a mint choc chip with a wafer of the Absurd.'
'Coming up.'
A Sospan Special: the only over-the-counter preparation effective against the sarcasm of an Aberystwyth cop.
Sospan pushed my money back across the counter.
'Already paid for; gentleman over there.' He motioned with the ice-cream scoop towards one of the benches near the railings. A man in a white Crimplene safari suit was seated there, incandescent in the early morning sun. It was Valentine from the boutique, the 'fixer' for the Druids. I walked over.
'Nice suit.'
He looked at the material on his arm as if surprised to see it there.
'Quality stuff thith,' he lisped. 'You should come down the thop, I'll do you a nice price.'
'If I ever go on safari, I will.'
'Thit down.'
'I'm OK standing, thanks. What do you want?' He paused for a moment as if weighing each word carefully.
'You have a ... a ... shall we thay an 'item' in your possession which is of interest to my organisation.'
I took another lick. 'Is that so?'
'You know what I'm referring to?'
'Maybe.' I had no idea.
'It was given to you by Myfanwy.'
'Oh that!' I still had no idea.
'We'd like to buy it.'
'That's nice.'
'We're nice people, Mr Knight.'
'Is that why you smashed up my office?'
He raised an apologetic hand.
'A mithtake, very regrettable. We'll be more than happy to compenthate you in return, of course, for the item in question.'
I pursed my lips thoughtfully.
'How much?'
Valentine smiled, revealing a gap between the front two teeth.
'We're reasonable men; we wouldn't want to fall out over a few pounds. Thay two grand?'
I considered. 'That won't pay for the broken furniture.'
He laughed and slapped his knees in the action of standing up.
'From what I hear, 50p would be more than enough to pay for the furniture in your office. Two is very generous.'
'Let's say five.'
'I'm afraid not. There are also hidden costs to be taken into account; costs which you would have to bear if we found we could no longer afford to be nice.'
My gaze followed him as he walked briskly up the Prom towards the Bandstand. When I turned round there was a Labrador sitting at my feet, staring up and politely licking his muzzle. I looked at the ice cream.
'You sure? Paid for by the Druids, you know.'
He gave a lick of affirmation and I threw the ice into the air. The dog leaped up and caught it while it was still rising.
* * *
When I got back to the office Calamity Jane was sitting in the client's chair.
'Tough break about the Bronzini kid,' she said nonchalantly.
'So you heard?'
'Was it you?'
'Was it me what?'
'Was it you that killed him? The word is, the police took you in. That makes you a suspect doesn't it?'
I choked for a second. 'Why you little — scallywag!'
'Nothing personal, I just deal in facts.'
'Yeah? Well perhaps you'd like to explain the fact that they found that card I gave you on his body?'
She looked puzzled for a second, then she reached into her pocket and pulled out my card.
'Been with me the whole time; you mention my name to the police?'
'No.'
She gave me a look of deep scrutiny.
'Sure?
'Scout's honour.'
'Hmmm. OK. So who do you reckon did it?'
'I've no idea.'
'It shouldn't take us long to find out.'
'Hang on, kiddo, what's all this 'we' business?'
'I thought I'd help you out on this one.'
'Did you now!'
'As a partner.'
'Do I look like I need a partner?'
'From where I'm sitting you do.'
'Oh really!'
'Yep.'
'Shouldn't you be in school?'
She ignored that and slid off the chair; then started pacing around the room.
'I won't ask for much. 50p a day.'
I laughed. 'That's 50p more than I earn most days.'
She walked over to the map of the town.
'We'll need some red pins.'
'What for?'
'To plot all the murders. We'll need bus timetables, witness statements, a computer database and some fresh coffee. Oh yeah,' she said turning from the map, 'if it's OK with you I might need to use your sofa, there's going to be some late nights on this one.'
'What happens if there aren't any more murders?'
She stared at me. 'What are you talking about?'
'Bronzini dead, that's one red pin — I reckon I could find one in the drawer somewhere. No need to waste money on a box. Does it have to be red?'
She took out a pack of cigarettes and said matter-of-factly, 'Boy, you're really good; you've almost got me fooled.'
