Amphetamines and Pearls by John Harvey Page B

about that fact but I couldn’t.
    I switched tack.
    Did you look after all of Candi’s affairs, or just the recording side of things?’
    â€˜Oh, no.’ He took a long cigarette from the box on the desk, offered one to me and when I shook my head replaced the box on the desk. He lit the cigarette with a table lighter in the shape of a dragon: they weren’t about to let anyone forget who was paying the bills. If anyone stepped out of line maybe they just burnt them up: instead of a retirement clock, a full-scale funeral pyre.
    He inhaled deeply and let the smoke float out from slightly parted lips. ‘Oh, no, that wasn’t my job at all. In many ways I wish it had been. I might have made a better job of things for her.’
    â€˜I thought you said her career was largely successful?’
    â€˜So it was, but something funny was going on with the money side if you ask me.’
    I leaned forward without trying to look too interested.
    â€˜And did she?’
    â€˜Ask me? No. But I loaned her money from time to time. Quite large sums, too. Not that I begrudge that, of course. Nor did I ask her what she wanted it for.’
    â€˜Why couldn’t she ask her personal manager for money? Presumably she’d earned it?’
    He blew a smoke ring thoughtfully towards the ceiling.
    â€˜I really haven’t the slightest idea. I don’t even know what sort of arrangement they had. She wouldn’t discuss it with me: not that I tried very hard. She had the same manager as when she started working solo, as far as I know. Some chappie in the provinces somewhere. Had to do almost all the business by telephone, or letter. Inconvenient at times.’
    Something was becoming clearer. ‘Nottingham?’ I asked.
    â€˜Yes, that’s right. Do you know him then?’
    Try it, Mitchell. Play your hunch. ‘Howard, you mean?’
    â€˜Yes, that’s the name.’
    I sat back in my chair. ‘No. No, I don’t know him.’
    Patrick Gordon-Brown looked bemused. I stood up and held out my hand. He shook it automatically.
    â€˜Thank you, you’ve been very helpful. I may drop in on you again some time. Perhaps we could have lunch.’
    I left his office and was half-way through the outer door when he called after me.
    â€˜I say! Look! I don’t really know what it was that you wanted.’
    Nor did I when I arrived, but I thought that maybe I did now. I thought of winking at the secretary but decided against it: I would save it for Jane on the way out. You do it too often and it makes you blind: or so my old granny used to say.

8
    The motorway was crammed full with lorries and idiots who thought they were driving in the Grand Prix but who would never have got round the first hairpin. Show them a length of straight road and they’ll race along it, no matter what. I stopped at the service station for a cup of coffee that tasted as plastic as the cup in which it was served. I left the doughnuts on the counter, begging for a home like fat boys in an orphanage.
    On the last stage of the journey it began to snow. That was almost all I needed. I huddled down into the expensive-feeling seat, plugged John Stewart into the eight-track and got on with the driving. The only trouble with motorways was that you never got slim girls with suitcases and names like July standing by the side of the road hitching lifts. Hell, where did I think I was going anyway? Seattle?
    In real terms it wasn’t long before I hit the Nottingham turn-off, but it seemed like a snowy eternity. Now I knew why I didn’t run a car of my own: I just hated driving. Even one like this.
    I parked the Saab in the multi-storey and crossed the road into the Victoria Centre. Howard was in the phone book, with about twenty-five variations of initial. I cross-checked in the yellow pages and found one under ‘Clubs and Entertainment’. There were two numbers: one for the 250 Club and one which I