Тимоти Уилльямз - Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 126, No. 3 & 4. Whole No. 769 & 770, September/October 2005

Eventually David realized that he was hungry. It hadn’t crossed his mind till now, what with his preoccupation with the confrontation with his mother. What time could it be?

He checked the time in the corner of his computer screen. Nearly quarter past eight. But nobody had called him for dinner!

Had they and he didn’t hear?

No, he was sure that nobody called.

Was there significance to that? There must be. They always called.

And he always came.

Was she going to starve the information out of him? Was that it? Well, that was really unfair. He ought to be allowed to decide for himself what he said and what he didn’t and still get fed. He was a member of the family, after all. It’s not like Marie was ever denied food when she finally came out after throwing a fit.

Of course he hadn’t been denied food either. Yet.

And he was hungry.

David went to the door of his room. He listened. It sounded like the television was on in the living room. But that could be Auntie Rose.

He couldn’t hear anyone talking in the kitchen.

He opened the door a crack, ready to slam it again if someone was lurking outside.

The corridor was empty. He ventured out.

The kitchen was empty. But there was a note in his mother’s handwriting on the table. “David, your father and I are at the Bell having a drink. There’s plenty of food in the fridge. Help yourself. Hope you’re feeling better.”

Feeling better? What did that mean? Was she saying that he’d just had a moment of not being himself, that everything would be the same again after he came to his senses and spilled the beans?

Well! How offensive was that! As if what had happened wasn’t a serious matter of principle. As if she expected him to return to being her spy.

Well, she’d soon find out. For sure. And have a surprise. Huh!

David stood, indignant, holding the note, ready to return to his room.

But it wouldn’t compromise his principles to take a full plate back there with him, would it? No. He went to the fridge.

After the appetizer, Deena Scott excused herself to go to the ladies’ room. It left Salvatore to reflect on how much he’d enjoyed talking with this woman so far. She was an intriguing combination of being forward but modest, tasteful but lively. She was maybe a little more conventional-looking than he usually chose for himself, but she was definitely a woman of quality. And more attractive in all the important ways than he’d ever expected to find in a woman who advertised in the Bath Chronicle’s “Find a Partner” page.

Maybe the bad rep of lonely-hearts ads was undeserved. Salvatore’s success with women might be legend but, like any success, it took work to sustain. He might even consider advertising there himself. “Painter seeks model for work on canvas, and maybe more.” Hmm. Maybe more, indeed.

When Deena returned to the table, Salvatore stood and held the chair for her. She thanked him with a nod of the head and a flicker of a smile.

Tasteful, but not uninterested...

“Marie?”

Marie turned in the direction of the voice that had addressed her. She couldn’t believe what her ears had already told her. She found herself face-to-face with her grandmother.

Behind, she saw her grandfather struggle to move a suitcase over the rough pavement that led to the taxi rank in front of the railway station. The bag had wheels, but it kept falling over.

“Hi, Gran,” Marie said. “It’s just wonderful to see you.”

Mama Lunghi squinted in the dim light. “But you couldn’t know we would be here, Marie. Nobody knew today, much less now.”

“But it’s still wonderful to see you. I’ve missed you.” Marie’s mind was whirring, trying to figure out where this was going to go.

“We didn’t know until it happened. How could you be here?”

Cassi filled the vacuum as she ran from near the front of the queue of people waiting for taxis. “Have you got change, Marie? I got two and he gave me a five.” Then Cassi saw who Marie was talking to. “Oh, hi, Mrs. Lunghi. How you doing?”

After the date, Salvatore decided to report on his evening rather than wait until morning. But when he appeared in the family kitchen Gina, who was clearing up, seemed mildly surprised. “Before ten? Losing your touch?”

“What was it, exactly, that you hired me to do?” Salvatore asked. “I don’t remember anything about ‘touch.’ ”

“So what happened? Was she a woofer?”

“Not in the slightest. Deena Scott is attractive, charming, refined, and she wasn’t shy about ordering the most expensive items on the menu.”

“How shy was she about paying for them?”

“She allowed me to pick up the tab, like the gentleman I so obviously am.”

“When you’re on expenses.”

“I bet she could get used to pizzas,” Salvatore said.

“Oh yeah?”

“If she was really hooked on a guy. Yeah, I bet she could.”

“And is she hooked on you?”

“No.” He smiled enigmatically.

“The expense account only runs to the one date, Sally.”

“The lady and I have made no plans.”

“So, did you manage to get an idea of what she didn’t like about Colin Cottard?”

“No.”

“No?”

“She wanted to focus on us and now, not on her dating history. Or, if it comes to that, anything much about herself at all.”

“Hmm,” Gina said. “And did you get her address?”

“I asked, but she said she didn’t feel comfortable giving it to me yet.”

“My, my. Well, I guess you’re not as young as you used to be.”

“My age, or other attributes, had nothing to do with it.”

“Immaterial?”

“So after the date I followed her.”

“Good. And?”

“And she tried to lose me.”

Gina looked to see if her brother-in-law was joking.

“For real,” Salvatore said. “I wasn’t obvious, and I can’t be sure she didn’t spot me, but she definitely engaged in evasive manoeuvring. Her road skills are considerable.”

“Sufficient to shake her tail?”

“She certainly wagged it.”

But it was at exactly this point that Gina and Salvatore were interrupted by loud noises from downstairs. The door to the street banged open, and they heard people talking.

“Such kerfuffle.” This was Marie’s grandfather, father of Angelo, Salvatore, and Rosetta, and founder of the Lunghi Detective Agency. “You’d think she robbed a bank.”

“More like she’s a whore,” his wife said.

“Grandma!” This was Marie.

“Where is your mother, young lady?” Mama asked. “At home, this hour, I hope.”

By now Salvatore and Gina were at the top of the stairs. “Mama? Papa?” Behind them, David, Angelo, and Rosetta were in the hall on their way to the kitchen, alerted to something happening by all the noise.

Salvatore turned to Gina. “I thought Mama and Papa weren’t back till day after tomorrow.”

They weren’t, but Gina was more concerned with something else. “Marie?” she said. “What about a whore?”

“Who’s a whore?” Angelo said.

David couldn’t believe his ears.

“It’s all a storm in a teacup,” Marie insisted once everyone squeezed into places around the kitchen table.

“With my own eyes, I saw it,” Mama said.

“You saw me standing in a taxi queue!” Marie said. “That’s all you saw.”

“A taxi queue where?” Gina asked.

“Where were you going in this taxi?” Angelo asked.

Marie stood up. “I don’t have to take this!”

“Sit down,” Gina said forcefully.

The crowd blocked any easy escape from the room so Marie sat, with a very deep sigh. She sighed a second time.