Others by James Herbert

his obsession for the continuation of his business, which he seemed to regard as his own epitaph.’
    ‘But even if she had a child soon, a baby couldn’t run a business. It doesn’t make sense.’
    That’s why everything has been put into a trust for now.’
    What? The money and the business?’
    ‘Yep.’
    The trustee…?’
    The bank that helped Gerald set up business in the first place. The one that likes to say yes unless you’re asking for overdraft facilities. He’d always maintained a good working relationship with that particular bank.’
    ‘I can see how Shelly would be just a little upset with that arrangement. It’s treating her like a child herself.’
    ‘She was more than a little upset. She yelled blue murder when the terms of the will were read out to her.’
    ‘So the trustee looks after the business until the child is old enough to take over.’
    ‘And if it’s a boy, all the better.’
    I let it all sink in, drawing back from the table and staring into space. The waiters and waitresses had gathered in a clique by the bar, occasionally breaking into laughter at a shared joke. The toddler at the next table grizzled for more ice-cream, while his mother wiped the mess from his face with a napkin. The restaurant’s glass door opened and a couple of wide-eyed tourists wandered through, looking around as if not knowing what to do next; one of the waiters quickly joined them and showed the way to an empty table. A gabble of Dutch or German drifted our way.
    ‘So that’s why she’s so keen to find her missing son,’ I murmured at last.
    ‘Shelly? I would think so, although I’ve tried to convince her she’ll be well taken care of without the worry of dealing with a business she doesn’t understand. She seems to have got it into her head that she’d be better off by being independent of the bank, and in a way, I can see her point. Why should she have to be accountable for every penny she spends and every business decision she makes to some faceless wonders at head office?’
    ‘Wait a minute.’ A new thought had struck me. This clairvoyant thing. You knew about it, didn’t you?’
    Etta nodded. ‘Yes, Shelly was very excited. That’s why she wanted the name of a reputable private investigation agency.’
    ‘But did she visit Louise Broomfield seeking some kind of consolation for the loss of her husband, or has she always suspected her baby had lived and wanted help in finding him?’
    ‘What does it matter?’
    ‘I’m just wondering if the clairvoyant picked up Shelly’s desperation, somehow tuned into the thought of a missing child. Isn’t that how this kind of thing works, by extrasensory perception? Maybe Shelly just passed the idea on to this other woman.’
    ‘Dis, as I said: what does it matter? Your work is done as far as this case is concerned. When you rang me earlier today you said there was no record of the baby’s birth, let alone its death. Submit your fee and forget about it.’
    I wished it could be that simple. Unfortunately, something was nagging at me, something I couldn’t get a handle on. Some creepy little voice way back in the deeper recesses of my mind was telling me I was more involved that I dared to imagine.

7
    ‘James Stewart.’
    ‘You got it wrong this time. It was Gary Cooper.’
    Henry shook his head vehemently. ‘No. I’m telling you it was James Stewart.’
    ‘You’re thinking of Mr Smith Goes to Washington, not Mr Deeds Goes to Town. Deeds was made in ‘36 and Smith in ‘39, same year as Destry Rides Again.’
    That gave Henry cause for pause, but not for long. ‘Henry Fonda was Smith Goes to Washington.’
    ‘No, you dope. Fonda was Young Mr Lincoln.’
    ‘Okay, okay. So who played The Thin Man?’ My accountant’s eyes narrowed behind his thin glasses and he grinned with expected triumph.
    ‘William Powell, of course.’
    ‘No! That was James Stewart!’ He banged the desk with the flat of his hand, triumph complete as far as he