by Reginal Hill
He strode away. Genuine irritation or heavy play-acting, wondered Joe. Didn't matter which. If Hooter was a player, he reckoned it was a support role, not a lead. Find Alberich and the Rhinegold was safe. Why the shoot was his mind running on Wagner? Of course. Mrs. Mattison telling him about Montaigne's little joke. Good baritone part, Alberich. There'd been some talk of Boyling Corner putting on a concert version of Das Rheingold with the Luton Operatics, and there'd been a heady moment when Rev. Pot, musing on the problems of casting, had let his eye dwell speculatively on Joe as he referred to the malignant dwarf baritone.
Well, it had come to nothing, and if it had materialized, Joe didn't doubt he'd have ended up in the chorus as usual. But no harm in dreaming.
He essayed a few remembered phrases from Alberich's opening exchange with the Rhinemaidens, and was amazed when one of them sang back over his shoulder. True, it was in a tenor falsetto, but perfectly phrased for all that. He turned to find Starbright Jones standing behind him.
"Hey, man," he said. "You never said you could sing."
"Can't really. You should've heard my old dad. But he had me at it soon as I could open my mouth without burping. You do more than karaoking?"
You really have been following me around, thought Joe.
He said, "I'm in the Boyling Corner Choir."
"You are?" He sounded impressed. "Hear they're pretty good."
"You?" said Joe.
"Was when I was younger. Sort of drifted away. Who're you after?"
Thought I might have a chat with Abe Schoenfeld."
Jones nodded approvingly.
"He's your man," he said. "He's around somewhere."
"Shouldn't you be keeping an eye on Zak?" asked Joe.
"She's showering."
Joe thought of making a joke, remembered Starbright's secret passion, decided against it.
"Finished training already?" said Joe looking at his watch.
"She's got a race tomorrow, remember? Just a light workout is all she needs today. Listen, you get this sorted quick, see? If your way don't work, then I'll have to try mine."
He walked away, looking as menacing in retreat as he did advancing. A high melodic line which didn't sound as if it could have any connection with him came drifting back. Joe thought he recognized it as Siegfried's outburst as he confronted the giant Fafner now turned into a dragon.
Time I got this sorted, thought Joe. Unless I want the blame for letting Starbright loose on an unsuspecting world.
He wasn't sure how best to play it. Or rather he was sure how best to play it, which was with subtle questioning and clever verbal traps to trick Schoenfeld into admitting what was presently only a nasty suspicion in Starbright Jones's mind. Trouble was, he didn't really know the rules of that subtle questioning game. Also it was worth remembering that if Schoenfeld was the guy behind the betting scam, then he was also the guy who reacted to interference by trying to cancel the interferer's ticket.
Maybe the best way to proceed was Starbright/Siegfried's after all! As Aunt Mirabelle used to say as she dragged him to the dentist, little bit of pain never hurt anyone.
He was into the warren of corridors connecting the offices and the changing areas now. Ahead of him a door opened and Mary Oto came out, clutching what looked like a length of fax paper. She didn't look in his direction but turned the other way. He paused till she turned a corner then hurried after her. The room she'd come out of was Hardiman's office. Cautiously he peered round the next corner and glimpsed her vanishing through another door. When he reached it he saw that it led into the men's locker room. This he recalled was where Starbright had overheard the activity which caused him such embarrassment. Chances were the woman had come in here to meet her boyfriend once again. What other reason? Joe didn't mind a classy strip show but he was no voyeur. He wanted to be in there before talking stopped and the action started. There wouldn't be just a single entrance to the changing rooms, would there? Fire regulations would demand at least one alternative. He went on down the corridor and felt a glow of satisfaction at being proved right. Cautiously he opened the door and peered in. No one in sight but he could hear the sound of a shower at the far end.
He stepped inside and made his way towards it.
Mary Oto was standing before an open shower stall. Abe Schoenfeld was just visible through a cloud of steam. The hiss of the water was going to make eavesdropping difficult, thought Joe. Fortunately it meant they had to raise their voices too, so he cautiously edged closer, keeping a central row of lockers between himself and the couple, and by dint of standing on a bench so that his head was above the locker level, he began to pick up the conversation.
"So that's it then. All set," said the man.
That's it. After the race, we're home and free."
"She won't like it."
"You know what they say about omelettes and eggs," said the woman indifferently.
Shoot! thought Joe. This was one callous lady!
His indignation and rise in water sound as the man increased the shower pressure made him miss the next bit of the exchange.
"She will do it, won't she?" the man was saying as he turned the jet down. "One thing I've learned about your sister is she hates not being in control."
"The other thing you should have learned is, she's not stupid. She'll dig her heels in, but she won't cut herself off at the ankles to keep them dug."
"I guess so. Hey, come on here, give me a kiss to celebrate."
"Piss off, you idiot, I'm getting soaked!" cried Mary, but she didn't sound really angry and Joe thought, time to get out of here if they're going to start slapping their meat.
He turned to go, stepping gingerly off the bench, then paused and climbed up again as the woman disengaged herself and said, "So that just leaves the little gumshoe to worry about."
"Yeah, he's persistent, ain't he? You got a line yet?"
"No. But whatever, now we've got this far, he can't be any bother to us, can he?"
"None in the world. Come here!"
They re-engaged. Joe turned once more, only this time he completely forgot he was standing on the bench, and his first step sent him crashing to the floor.
"Oh shoot!" he said, pushing himself to a sitting position and feeling for broken bones. But there was no time for first aid.
"What the hell was that?" cried Schoenfeld. And the next moment he was round the end of the row of lockers and glaring with angry disbelief at Joe.
Some folk might say that there's no way a stark naked man, however big, can take on a fully clothed man, however small, without feeling his disadvantages.
Joe, however, wasn't brought up to take advantage of the unprotected. Indeed, when he accidentally brushed against Schoenfeld's private parts as he rose to his feet, where a lesser man might have grabbed hold and twisted, he flushed and said, "Hey, man. I'm sorry."
The only reward for his forbearance was a left hook to his temple which sent him reeling sideways.
"So what's your game, dickhead?" demanded Schoenfeld.
Doubting whether the guy really wanted an answer, Joe did the only thing a sensible PI could do in the circumstances and ran.
He made it out of the door at such a speed he went straight into the wall opposite and bounced back into Abe Schoenfeld's waiting arms. The same arms instantly put him in a headlock which he recalled from Mr. Takeushi's classes. Pity he couldn't recall the counter to it. As the blood flow to his head became seriously interrupted, his principal feeling was of shame. Surely the conquerer of Marble-Tooth of the S AS in all his finery could deal with a mother-naked Yank?
Schoenfeld was screaming something about "the truth" but he couldn't make it out over the roaring of his blood, and anyway he doubted if it had much to do with the truth that would set him free.
Then another voice spoke.
This anyone's fight, or are you two just in love?"
Joe twisted his head round, or rather Abe twisted it round, so that he found he was looking at Douglas
Endor.
Joe said, "Arrghh."
Schoenfeld said, "You want a fight, you got it," and hurled Joe towards the agent. Joe had never worn a thousand-pound mohair suit but he knew it was worth every penny if it felt as comfortable on as it did against his face as he embraced Endor for succour and support.
Endor said, "Easy there, Abe. Let's sit down and talk about this."
Schoenfeld said, "Too late for talking," and balled his fists.
Joe closed his eyes and prepared for a renewed attack. Good Samaritans were OK for succour, but you couldn't really expect them to take on your fights. He only hoped Endor would have the sense to run off and call Security.
Then Mary's voice said, "Abe."
She was standing in the changing-room door.
Endor said, "Mary? What's going on?"
She glowered at him angrily then pointed an accusing finger at Joe.
"Ask your little friend," she sneered.
"Joe?" said Endor.
His tongue had just about deflated to a size where speech was once again possible. He croaked, "It's over. OK? It's over."
The man and woman exchanged glances. Then Abe said, "That's right. It's over. Come on, sweetheart." And putting his arm over Mary's shoulders, he urged her back into the changing room.
"Now what the hell was that all about?" demanded Endor, gently distancing Joe from the mohair.
Joe croaked something noncommittal. In fact he felt tempted. He had decisions to make and it would be good to talk. But in the PI game, whoever was paying the piper should be the only one entitled to hear the tune.
Endor said, "Joe, if it helps, I know who you are. And if you're thinking, it's none of my business, then remember, Zak is my business. So talk to me."
Same line as Hardiman, thought Joe. Except his first concern was for the Plezz, while Endor's interest in Zak herself went as deep as his pocket.
And with the end in sight, didn't he have the right to know his percentage of what had been going on?
Talk to anyone who buys me a cup of coffee," he croaked.
They didn't go to the stadium restaurant, for which Joe was glad. He didn't want to run into Zak till he'd got his thoughts straight. Still less did he want to see Mary and Schoenfeld again. So they went to the stripped-pine-and-carrot-cake cafe next to the art gallery which wasn't officially open, but quickly succumbed to Endor's Cockney charm.
"Rehearsing for tomorrow," he said as he put a cup of coffee in front of Joe. "Told 'em you was a Caribbean coffee taster. If you liked it, the mayor would love it."
Joe liked it. He'd have liked muddy water if that was all there was to lubricate his still painful throat.
"Now, Joe," said Endor. "About this investigation of yours..."
"You the one who recommended me to Zak?" asked Joe.
That's right," grinned Endor. "But don't be too grateful. I'd read about you in the local rag after that boy-in-the-box affair, so when Zak asked if I knew any Pis locally, I didn't want to lose my reputation for infallibility."
"She give you any ideas what it was about?"
"Not her. And I didn't press. One thing I've learnt about Zak, she makes her own decisions. So while I want to know what's going on, don't tell me anything you think she'll be pissed at you telling me."
Joe said, "I've thought about that. Ongoing, my lips are sealed. But it's over, and after what you saw, you ought to know. In fact, considering you employ Mary, you've a right to know."
Briefly he outlined what had been going on.
Endor was gob smacked
"Jesus," he said. "If I'd even suspected it was something serious as this, I would never ... I'd have called in the Old Bill straight away."
He would never have recommended me is what he was going to say, thought Joe without resentment. Shoot, first thing I said to her was you ought to ring the fuzz!
"She was worried from the start someone in her family might be involved," he said. "Seems she was right."
"God, yes. Mary. I blame myself there."
"You do? How come?"
"This sounds to me like one of them two-to-tango things," said Endor grimly. "If I hadn't let Zak talk me into taking Mary on in the first place ... All it was really was a way of Zak paying Mary's salary without her working directly for Zak, know what I mean? Should've known better. Only reason to hire anyone is they can do the job."
"And couldn't she?"
"In fact, she could. Pretty nifty at it as it turned out. That was my second mistake, I began to forget the background ... you know, the accident, all that."
"I know."
"At first I kept her busy on my other accounts, not Zak's. But when these Vane University geezers got in touch, I wanted to check the place out, get the feel of things, look at the small print. It was peanuts commercially, but in terms of development, it could be crucial. Zak was very keen. Didn't want to lose touch with her art interests. Wise girl. Always keep the day job open is what I tell my clients. So I went over first. I like people to sell things to me, then I sell them to my clients. Saves a lot of aggro. And I took Mary with me. It was Zak's idea. Said she deserved a trip and could suss things out from the woman's point of view. Big mistake."
"Because she met Schoenfeld?"
That's right. I could see Abe was making a play for her. I put it down to the guy being so keen to get his hands on Zak, athletically speaking, that he thought it wouldn't do no harm to soften up the sister. How wrong can you be!"
"No way you could guess how it would pan," said Joe with the sympathy of one who spent a great deal of time being amazed at how wrong he could be.
"That's right," said Endor, glad of the comfort. "When Zak went over herself to take a look-see, Mary went with her. I didn't. So I didn't have a chance to see how things were developing there. And she went out again in the autumn, allegedly to help Zak settle in. But I didn't see them together again till Abe turned up here, earlier this week. And I got the impression things were pretty cool between them now."
"An act," said Joe. "If they'd been able to keep it up, if Jones hadn't heard them at it in the changing room
"No, I reckon from the sound of it, you'd have got on to them eventually, Joe," said Endor.
It was pleasant to meet someone who had such confidence in his ability.
"Maybe," said Joe modestly. "But I still don't understand how they came up with such a crazy idea in the first place."
Endor pursed his lips, looked grim and said, "OK, this is the way I see it. With Mary, it's obvious. Not just the money, maybe not even the money. I reckon the sheer kick she'd get out of seeing her sister lose in front of her own home crowd would be motivation enough. As for Schoenfeld, well, he must have got the message he don't have no place in Zak's long-term plans. OK, they've got a good programme going over there, I made sure of that. But Abe's nothing but a college coach. Zak's in the market for one of the top pros. And when she finds the one that suits, it'll be like poor old Jim Hardiman all over. Bye bye, Abe. So why not make a killing while he can?"
Joe sipped his coffee and examined the hypothesis. The way Endor put it together it all made real sense. He'd been right to talk to the agent, use his cool calculating way of looking at things.
He said, "So what do we do now?"
"We?"
"Hey, she's your client as much as mine. More. I mean, I know what my responsibility is. Find out the facts and report them to her. Only question is how and when. Don't want to upset her more than necessary."
"You're going to have to do that sooner or later," said Endor. "I take it the police are still right out of the picture?"
That'll be down to Zak. No cops unless she says so. But what I meant was, how might it affect her if I gave her the full story now?"
"Take your meaning," said Endor. The race. That would be a real turn-up if solving the problem upset her so much she lost the race anyway!"
"But I've got to tell her. She's got to know, otherwise she won't know how to run, will she?"
"You don't think there's any danger any more?"
"No. Listen, it was the threat to her family that really got to her, and I don't reckon Mary's going to start offing the others just to get at Zak. But even if I just say it's OK, there's no need to worry any more, she's going to want to know it all. Don't know about you, Doug, but I ain't got the machinery for saying no to a lovely girl like Zak."
"You got yourself a problem, Joe," said Endor. "You could always send her a note."
"A note?" Joe considered. "No, that would look, I don't know, impersonal. Like I thought it didn't matter. This needs someone talking to her
He drank more coffee, contemplating the prospect, and incidentally Endor, gloomily over the rim of his cup. Endor looked rather uncomfortable under the gaze and finally burst out, "Now see here, Joe, there's no way I'm going to do your job for you!"
"What? No, I didn't mean ... but hey, that's it, that would solve everything!"
"No way," said Endor. "She's going to come at me hard as she'd come at you to get the details, and like you, I just know I'd have to tell her."
"But no, you wouldn't," said Joe eagerly. "Listen, you can say you met me and I asked you to pass the message on, it's OK, everything's taken care of, no more problem. Tell her I was absolutely sure, but I had to shoot off on another case, very urgent, life and death. And I'd contact her for a debriefing soon as I got back. Probably tomorrow. You'd be in the clear. You can't tell what you haven't been told, can you?"
The agent didn't look convinced.
"OK, suppose I did it," he said. "What do I get out of it?"
"Spoken like a true agent," said Joe with a grin. "What you get is a happy client who gets a good night's sleep and breaks the European indoor record tomorrow. Then I'll appear and tell her it's all down to her big sister and crooked coach."
"Who are doing what in the meantime?"
Tacking their bags and checking the flight schedules if they've any sense," said Joe. "I wouldn't want to be around when Zak finally hears the truth."
"Me neither," said Endor. "OK, Joe, you're on. But you owe me. I ever want a prospect checked out, you're my freebie. Deal?"
