My heart quailed. Bianca Partridge was the managing editor of Girl Talk, our main rival. It was a trashier version of Women’s Choice, if such a thing were possible, and the two mags constantly vied for the same readership. That Katrina was telling me about this meeting could mean only one thing. I’d been sprung.
‘Yeah? What about?’ I bluffed.
‘Apparently Girl Talk has had a quiet month,’ Katrina said. ‘In fact, Bianca’s journos have so little to do at the moment that she’s considering laying one of them off.’
‘That’s weird,’ I said.
‘It is, isn’t it? Especially weird since the last I heard every journo in town was flat strap.’
The calm in her voice frightened me far more than if she’d yelled at me. ‘Um, I guess I must’ve forgotten to call Bianca the other day,’ I tried.
‘Cut the crap, Burrowes! You lied to me, and that pisses me off. I’d give you points for being ballsy if you’d come through with a cracker story, but you still haven’t found a fucking thing, and I can’t afford to send another journo over there now. Get your act together, and if I’m lucky enough, the sales will be good enough to cover the cost of replacing you.’
‘You’re firing me?’
‘Just get the story. We’ll discuss your future when you get back.’
She hung up on me.
‘Fuck!’ I threw my phone down on the bed.
Nick handed me my coffee. ‘What was that all about?’
I ripped the lid off and took a gulp, burning my tongue. ‘Ow! Katrina found out I tricked her into giving me the story. I think I just got fired.’
‘First time, huh?’
I gave him a quizzical look. ‘What?’
‘If it’s any consolation, Katrina’s fired me three times. I wouldn’t take it too seriously. It’s a sign that she likes you.’
‘Katrina doesn’t like anyone.’
He laughed. ‘She’s probably impressed at the lengths you went to just to get the story. I’d take it as a compliment if I were you.’
I started to smile, but then the events of the night before rushed back, and I ducked my head to avoid his gaze.
‘About last night…’ My face was hot with embarrassment.
‘Don’t worry, Burrowes,’ he said. ‘I know it’s not me you’re into. I’m sorry I spoke while you were on the phone with James. That was stupid.’
‘Well, it’s done now.’
‘I can call him and try to explain?’
‘I’d rather just forget about it.’ I gave him a tight smile, then started packing my stuff back into my satchel. ‘Let’s go, we need to hit the streets again.’
We’d been on the move no more than ten minutes when I saw the man in the cap. He was sitting in a shadowy part of the courtyard outside a cafe, sipping an espresso and reading the newspaper. He glanced up at us for a second, then looked back down to his paper. Nerves clutched my stomach. I could no longer ignore the fact that he was trailing us.
‘Hey, there’s that guy again,’ Nick said.
‘No shit, Sherlock. I’m going to ask him about Ford.’
The man looked up at me as I approached. I thought I detected a note of alarm in his eyes. He folded his paper and set it down beside his empty espresso cup.
‘Buongiorno.’ I placed the crumpled photo of Ford on the table in front of him. Danger emanated from the man and my first instinct was to get away from him, but I took a breath and pressed on. ‘I was wondering whether you’ve seen this man? He’s my boyfriend and I really need to find him.’
‘Ahh, scusi, non inglese parla,’ the man said hastily. He stood and hurried away without a backwards glance.
‘OK, I guess not,’ I said, deflated.
‘That guy isn’t Italian,’ Nick said from behind me.
‘Of course he’s Italian. You heard him; he doesn’t speak English.’
‘Perhaps not, but he doesn’t speak Italian either.’
‘Sounded pretty Italian to me.’
‘He had it the wrong way around… He should have said non parlo inglese, not non inglese parla.’
‘I hardly think we should be worrying over semantics,’ I said. ‘Lots of people have bad grammar. I don’t like it, but such is life.’
Nick looked like he wanted to strangle me. ‘Jesus, Burrowes, in all your eagerness to disagree with me, you might consider actually listening to me for once. We’re not talking semantics here. It’s basic dialogue. He pretty much said “no English speak”. He’s hiding something.’
‘Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?’
He groaned. ‘I thought I did.’
‘We’ve got to find him again and make him talk. He must know something about Ford.’
‘Welcome to Comprehension Town. Population: two.’
‘Shut up.’
Nick smirked. He was obviously powerless against my razor-sharp wit.
‘Which way did he go?’ I asked.
‘So we’re not looking for Ford anymore?’ Nick mocked.
‘That’s not really working out for us, is it?’ I shot back. ‘It’s obvious this guy has something to do with the whole thing. If we can find him and follow him, he might lead us straight to Ford.’
‘Sounds like a bit of a leap of faith if you ask me.’
‘I wasn’t asking. Did you see which way he went or not?’
Nick pointed a lazy arm to his left, and I set off up the street, cursing under my breath.
We walked the streets all morning, but saw no sign of either Ford or the man in the cap. Nick began to heave exaggerated sighs every time we turned down a new street, which only served to fuel my own despair.
I rounded on him in fury. ‘What’s your problem?’
‘This is the most idiotic strategy ever. If he’s shadowing us, it would be the easiest thing in the world for him to stay out of sight. And even if we do happen to stumble across him, do you really think he’s just going to take us straight to Ford?’
I wanted to punch him, but knew he was right. We were wasting our time.
I sighed. ‘All right, we have to look like we’re settling in somewhere for
