Angel Touch by Mike Ripley

ourselves.’
    She looked relieved and nodded to him, then left.
    â€˜Salome,’ he said as the door closed, ‘would you mind?’
    â€˜Yes, I bloody well would,’ she muttered under her breath. ‘Of course, Tel,’ she said out loud. Then to me: ‘Black?’
    â€˜Naturally.’
    â€˜So, we return to the question of how Cawthorne knew,’ Patterson went on, unperturbed. ‘He’s not on our client list, and as far as I know, he doesn’t work for any of our institutionals. You two –’ he pointed to Alec then Sal – ‘alibi each other, and we just have to assume that Cawthorne was at this party by chance.’
    He left a lot hanging in the air, not the least the nasty implication behind ‘alibi.’
    â€˜There was nothing particularly private about that party,’ I offered in Salome’s defence. ‘I mean, it was in a pub and anybody could have been there. They even let me in.’
    â€˜Point taken, but question remains – how did he know?’
    I didn’t say anything, but I wasn’t convinced by the coincidence theory. After all, this Cawthorne character had been muttering about ‘the spade bitch’ earlier. But I didn’t say anything. Unfortunately.
    â€˜Come on, you two.’ Patterson sat back in his chair and put on a ham American accent. ‘If you ain’t part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.’
    If he came out with stuff like that, I could understand why he didn’t get Christmas cards.
    Alec and Salome stayed silent. It was time for a diversionary attack.
    â€˜In my experience,’ I said confidently, ‘you’ll have to look below stairs for your leak.’
    â€˜ Your experience?’ said Salome with an incredulity that hurt.
    â€˜Now listen, Sal baby, I may not be the high-flying executive type you’re used to mixing with, but I’ve hung around more typing pools, loading bays, postrooms and company garages than you’ve had lukewarm entrees. If you want to know what a company’s doing, ask a chauffeur.’
    â€˜He’s got something there,’ said Alec, making it sound a bit like a disease. ‘You think that’s where our problem lies?’ Patterson looked keen. I should have been on my guard.
    â€˜I’m not saying it is, I’m just saying that’s where I’d start to look if it was my problem. You take care of the directors’ dining-room, I’ll hang around the staff canteen.’ I shot a glance sideways at Salome. ‘And question the catering staff.’
    She smirked, but Patterson was dead serious. ‘Would you do that for us? None of us could; well, not with any hope of results.’
    â€˜We could give him a cover story to explain his presence,’ said Alec enthusiastically. ‘And make it worth his while.’
    â€˜Naturally,’ said Patterson. They were talking as if I isn’t there. ‘We could go a K plus any out-of-pocket expenses.’
    I began to feel claustrophobic and my stomach churned. Classic stress symptoms. It always happened when somebody suggested I get a job.
    â€˜Hold everything,’ I said, holding up my hands to show I was serious. ‘There are over two-and-a-half million people out there looking for work. I’m not.’
    â€˜It would be purely temporary,’ Patterson enthused. ‘And you’d do exactly what you want; just report to me every so often . I think we could go to K.2 and no questions.’
    â€˜No, I’m sorry.’ Not even for K.2 – that’s a grand, two hundred in the City. Even I knew that. ‘I’m too young to start drawing a monthly pay packet.’
    â€˜If you have a tax problem or something, we could make it cash.’
    â€˜Brown envelope job, eh? You City boys are too slick for me.’
    Salome reached out and touched my hand. ‘He means £1,200 a week, Roy,’ she said,