A Vicky Hill Exclusive! by Hannah Dennison Page A

close to the truth as possible when telling a lie. I shrugged, noncommittally. ‘Looks like a break-in to me.’
    ‘That’s what I thought.’ Topaz paused, before adding darkly, ‘I saw him, you know.’
    ‘Who?’ A horrible lump stuck in my throat.
    ‘The American.’
    ‘
American?
’ I was astonished! Pierce Brosnan was a
foreigner?
    I tried to keep calm. ‘Is he one of your regulars at the cafe?’
    ‘Oh
no
! He’s not a customer,’ she said in a mysterious voice. ‘Most definitely not.’
    ‘Who is he, then?’ I could hardly contain my curiosity. How strange and convenient that the very identity of the man I wanted to know was about to be unwittingly revealed by a waitress!
    Topaz nodded. ‘I know who he is, all right.’
    My patience was beginning to fray. ‘Well,
who
?’ I demanded. ‘Why would he want to break into the
Gazette
?’
    ‘Why does anyone do anything?’ She turned to stare at me again. I hadn’t noticed before how her deep green eyes reminded me of Kaa, the snake from Disney’s
Jungle Book
.
    ‘Topaz—’
    ‘The funny thing is,’ she continued wistfully, ‘I thought you were in there, too. A midnight lover’s tryst, perhaps?’
    ‘You must be joking.’ I was just about to add that Pierce Brosnan had to be forty, when three policemen emerged from the alley.
    ‘Goody!’ Topaz gave a little squeal. ‘They’ve found something.’
    I felt ill. A young policeman brought up the rear, holding the floor mop aloft as if he’d discovered the Holy Grail. His colleagues surged around him, offering congratulations, along with hearty backslaps. I forced myself to keep calm. Surely, if they found my fingerprints I could easily explain them away – after all, I worked at the
Gazette
. However, my scarf and gloves were another matter. Had they found those, too?
    After some initial difficulty, the coppers managed to tie the incriminating evidence onto a panda roof rack with orange baling twine. They piled into their respective cars and sped off.
    ‘How frightfully exciting!’ Topaz got to her feet. ‘I expect they’ll be questioning all the neighbours in the area tomorrow morning.’
    Would my nightmare never end? ‘Gosh. It’s late. Really must go.’ I stood up and headed towards the front door.
    Topaz darted in front and beat me to it. ‘Vicky, you still haven’t told me what
you
were doing over there in the middle of the night.’ She leant her back against the door, covering the handle with her body.
    I felt more than a little alarmed. The cafe ceased to be a friendly refuge. Topaz was scantily clad in a short cotton nightdress at odds with her mob cap. Immediately, my eyes were drawn to a silver Victorian locket she wore around her neck.
    Seeing the direction of my gaze, Topaz defiantly stuck out her chest. I could feel myself blush and hastily looked away. Surely she hadn’t thought I was looking at her
breasts?
    ‘Please tell me,
please
?’ she said coyly.
    Recalling another of Dad’s favourite sayings,
‘Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer,’
I forced myself to stay calm. ‘Topaz, you and I are kindred spirits . . .’ I began, taking care to cross my fingers behind my back. I wasn’t really lying. ‘I’ve not been sleeping recently. My mind is always working on stories . . . thinking up new ideas. You know how it is?’
    Topaz’s expression remained blank. She didn’t say a word, just stood there with her hands on her hips. I rambled on. ‘I couldn’t sleep so I decided to come to the office and work there rather than disturb my landlady. And, wouldn’t you know it! No sooner had I got to the
front
door, the alarm went off and—’
    ‘You got scared,’ said Topaz, her disappointment plain.
    ‘That’s it!’ I was relieved. ‘Scared to death actually. Then you came outside and . . . you know the rest. Must go. Really tired.’
    Topaz nodded her head slowly. ‘So, let me see. When the police question me, do I say that I saw you, or