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Authors: Michael Z. Lewin

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BOOK: Family Business
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‘And you're a printing firm?' Gina asked.

‘That's right,' Howard said. ‘What's this about?'

‘What sort of printing do you undertake?'

‘You name it, I can do it,' Howard said. ‘If I can't do it myself, I can get it done, cheap. You won't get it for less.'

‘Well,' Gina said, ‘I'm ringing for Drumroll Double-Glazing.'

‘Oh yeah?'

‘We are doing a promotion in your area. In order to demonstrate the quality of our plastic glass we're replacing one window for free in selected premises.'

‘For free?' Howard said.

‘Absolutely free, provided the window is less than twenty-four by forty-eight inches. Free,
and
with no obligation to make other purchases. A lot of the cowboy firms have strings attached, but not us. Might you be interested?'

‘I might,' Howard said. ‘I got a window that size.'

‘May I just confirm your address, please?'

Howard gave a street address.

‘Is that in the Walcot Street area?' Gina asked.

‘No,' Howard said. ‘It's off the Lower Bristol Road. Do you know the railway arches?'

‘Oh dear,' Gina said.

‘Wrong area?' Howard said.

‘I'm afraid so.'

‘Never mind,' Howard said.

‘You're being very understanding,' Gina said.

‘I always try to be understanding,' Howard said, ‘when I'm talking to a girl with as nice a voice as yours.'

‘For a minute I thought we were going to have to give him a free window,' Angelo said as he spread tuna salad on a piece of bread.

‘Pass the butter, will you?' Gina said. Angelo passed the butter. ‘Double-glazing might be a good sideline if we've got to expand the business to cater for Rosetta's children.'

Angelo spent two afternoon hours in the office with Ignatius White. For the first hour neither the telephone nor the fax provided relief from intense computer pedagogy. White would not even break for a cup of tea. ‘Tea and computers don't mix,' he told Angelo sternly. ‘Spilled tea wreaks havoc with a key pad.'

When at last the telephone did ring, Angelo answered hopefully, but the caller was Adrian Boiling. ‘I'm not nagging, Mr Lunghi. I don't run my business that way. I'd just like a word with my man, Mr White.' Listening to White's end of a short conversation, Angelo felt he was in a foreign country.

When the call finally finished, Ignatius White's eyes were bright and his moustache quivered. He said, ‘Miss Lunghi is certainly determined to put this place to rights.'

‘She is?'

‘I was speaking to her earlier and she is seriously considering taking the ISDN option. I just confirmed with Mr Boiling that we can provide it.'

‘You can?'

‘It's a wise move, now that the telephone exchanges can handle it. ISDN makes the traditional modem obsolete, and it's more reliable and secure as well as being faster. You can send an A4 fax in two seconds, Mr Lunghi. Or the picture of a suspect, and the print is laser quality. ISDN makes sense in a business like yours. You cut your modem-related phone bills by seventy-five per cent, you use fewer couriers and it comes with installation, training, helpline and twelve months' personal support. Support,' White repeated. ‘That's our middle name.'

After lunch Gina remained in the kitchen, so she heard Rosetta come up the stairs. ‘I didn't know you were out,' Gina said.

‘A little shopping,' Rosetta said. ‘While Angelo is being trained.'

‘More computers?' Gina asked.

‘Not exactly,' Rosetta said. ‘A skirt. A blouse.'

‘Is there an occasion?' Gina asked.

Unable to contain the news, Rosetta said, ‘He's asked me out!'

‘Rose!' Gina said. ‘When? Tonight?'

‘No. Tomorrow. For lunch. And Gina,' Rosetta said, ‘I think he likes me. I really think he likes me.'

Salvatore and Angelo appeared in the kitchen at about 4.15. Salvatore said, ‘Gina, what's up with Rosetta?'

‘What do you mean?'

‘She came across to talk with the manic dwarf who was showing Angelo how to play the maracas on these new computers. Rose looked
radiant
. I've never seen her like that.'

Angelo slumped into a chair.

‘Maybe you never looked,' Gina said.

‘So what's up?' Salvatore said.

‘Your sister,' Gina said, ‘is beginning to realize she's attractive.'

‘Rose?' Salvatore said. ‘Attractive?'

‘You're impossible,' Gina said to her brother-in-law.

‘How much is being attractive going to cost us?' Angelo said tiredly.

‘And
you
sound just like your father,' Gina said.

The Old Man sat at his desk. He held a folder of documents but he wasn't reading them. From their little kitchen Mama brought him out a cup of tea. She set it by the documents. ‘You ready for this?' she asked.

‘Ah,' he said.

‘Are you all right?'

‘What else?' the Old Man said. He did not turn around.

Mama bent over the back of her husband's chair and put her arms around his shoulders.

At first the Old Man shrugged the touch off, not recognizing it as affection. Then he accepted the gesture.

When Mama stood straight again the Old Man said, ‘What brought that on?'

‘Just thinking,' Mama said. ‘Just thinking what a lovely, lovely family we have.'

The Old Man nodded.

‘All of them,' Mama said.

‘I told my parents I'll be with you tomorrow,' Marie said as she waited with Jenny at the bus stop after school.

‘So you're going to do it, Marie?' Jenny said.

‘Terry's counting on me now,' Marie said coolly. ‘I don't want to let him down. You know what men are like when you disappoint them.'

‘Ooo, you're so
brave
!'

‘Money's money,' Marie said, ‘no matter how you get it.'

‘But if you get caught …' Jenny persisted. ‘If your parents find out …'

‘I'll just run away with Terry,' Marie said. ‘I'm sure he'd do the honourable thing.'

‘That's not what Olive says,' Jenny said.

‘Olive,' Marie said. ‘Huh!'

‘My mum would roast me,' Jenny said. ‘And my
dad
! He'd probably explode with flashing lights like one of the monsters in Hector's games.'

‘I think we're a little more mature than that in our household,' Marie said.

‘But,' Jenny said, ‘if you do get caught …?'

‘You keep talking about getting caught. Why don't you ask what I'm going to do with all that beautiful money?'

‘What?'

‘I don't
know
!' Marie said in peals of giggles. ‘We can decide tomorrow night.'

‘
Great
!'

‘Where shall we go?'

‘Olive thinks they're cracking down on IDs at the Cat and Fountain,' Jenny said. ‘Her sister says the police came in the other night.'

‘That's good,' Marie said.

‘Is it?'

‘If the police are worrying about under-age drinking, it'll keep their minds off
other
things.'

‘
Oooo
!' Jenny said.

Angelo and Salvatore stood waiting beneath the plane trees which canopied the middle of The Circus.

‘Papa says The Circus was modelled on the Colosseum in Rome,' Angelo said. ‘Is that right?'

Salvatore smiled. ‘Papa also says the carvings along the roofline are pineapples.'

‘Aren't they?'

‘Acorns,' Salvatore said.

‘Those are acorns?'

‘They have to do with the legend of leprous Prince Bladud and his pigs. His pigs liked acorns.'

Angelo looked at the acorns again. Then he looked at his watch. ‘Nearly time.' He counted to seven. ‘Now.'

Both men looked to the door of Whitfield, Hare and O'Shea. It opened.

‘Huh!' Angelo said.

A woman emerged. She looked at the sky, and then closed the door behind her.

Salvatore said, ‘Is that him, bubba?'

‘Surveillance has never been an exact science,' Angelo said.

Fifty seconds later Jack Shayler left his office.

As they followed Shayler across the open space in front of the Assembly Rooms, Angelo said, ‘I want to see if he stops at the bench. If he does, we'll do him there. If not, in the passage.'

As Shayler approached the bench by the telephone at the end of Alfred Street he looked at his watch. He sat down.

Within seconds Angelo and Salvatore sat either side of him. Shayler looked from one to the other. He was a pallid man with sandy hair that seemed a dusty outline to his face. He was clearly surprised by the imposing company. ‘We've been looking for you, Jack,' Angelo said.

‘How do you …?'

‘You've been making telephone calls, Jack,' Salvatore said. He reeled off the number that Shayler had dialled the previous night.

‘Sound familiar?' Angelo said. ‘Bit naughty, making secret phone calls before you go to bed.'

Shayler's jaw flopped down and hung open.

‘I expect you want to know how we know,' Salvatore said. ‘Well, we've been in your house.'

‘Nice freesias by the phone,' Angelo said.

‘Yellow,' Salvatore said. ‘My favourite.'

‘And while we were admiring them, we left a little ear in the telephone,' Angelo said.

‘That's right,' Salvatore said. ‘We bugged your telephone, Jack.'

‘But you'll want to confirm that, I expect,' Angelo said.

‘I've got an idea,' Salvatore said. ‘Why don't you ring home, Jack? Ring your wife.'

‘Nice woman, your wife,' Angelo said. ‘Trusting. Open. Pity if something happened to a nice woman like that.'

‘You ring her,' Salvatore said. ‘Make sure she's all right. And then tell her to unscrew the part of the phone she talks into.'

‘It comes off easy,' Angelo said.

‘And tell her to look for a little brown cube.'

‘Smaller than a sugar lump,' Angelo said.

‘Oh yes, much smaller,' Salvatore said. ‘But it's a modern miracle, Jack. It is, because it picks up telephone conversations a treat.'

‘So let's do that before we go any further, Jack,' Angelo said. ‘You check our bona fides with your wife. And then, Jack, then we'll have a little talk about what you're up to, eh?'

‘What's the matter, Jack? Cat got your tongue?'

At long last Jack Shayler said, ‘Who … who are you?'

‘First things first, Jack,' Salvatore said. ‘Ring the missus.'

‘I don't …' Shayler said.

Angelo and Salvatore each took an arm. They lifted Shayler to his feet and manoeuvred him to the red telephone box. Angelo went in first. The idea was that Salvatore would wedge Shayler in from behind while Angelo dialled the Shaylers' home number. Angelo had a coin ready.

But with unexpected strength Jack Shayler suddenly twisted out of Salvatore's grip and bolted down Alfred Street.

Angelo stepped out of the telephone box and stood with his brother as they watched Shayler sprint away. ‘Quick for an accountant, isn't he?' Angelo said.

‘Caught me by surprise, bubba,' Salvatore said. ‘Sorry.'

‘Should be all right,' Angelo said. ‘He'll arrive home out of breath. His wife can ask him about that.'

‘Should we follow him, do you think?' Salvatore asked.

‘Yeah,' Angelo said. ‘To make sure he doesn't stop to rest. But first I'll ring his wife to tell her what happened.'

But as Angelo turned back to the phone, it rang.

CHAPTER TEN

Dinner on Fridays was always early and cold. The pattern first evolved at the height of the Norman Stiles case, the Old Man's only murder. The subjects of the Stiles surveillance pursued their nefarious activities during active weekends that began on Friday evening. Because the Stiles case was complicated and lengthy, a Friday and Saturday routine of simple meals was established.

The pattern still suited the Lunghis because it allowed those with social and cultural inclinations to go out early. Salvatore, the Marie of his day, always had ‘plans' but in those days everyone in the family went out occasionally. More recently it was the newest generation of Lunghis who most often socialized on Friday and Saturday nights. And, until the last few weeks, alternate Fridays were when Rosetta regularly got some time alone with Walter.

This Friday, however, was almost unprecedented. Everyone was at dinner—even Salvatore—and no one was in a hurry. When Mama and the Old Man came down from their flat and saw how full and settled the household was they were both surprised.

The Old Man was pleased. ‘The washing-up liquid, it pulls them in,' he said.

Mama's feelings were more ambivalent. She said to Salvatore, ‘You're going out later?'

‘Yes, Mama. To the Rose and Crown to pick up the picture the so-called detective left with the woman Muffin and I talked to last night.'

‘And Muffin? How is she?'

‘Fine,' Salvatore said.

‘She's going with you?'

‘Not tonight.'

Mama would have said more but the Old Man said, ‘You met this Shayler husband today, yes?'

Salvatore said, ‘That's right, Papa. On his way home from work.'

‘And you put the wind up him?'

‘We filled his sails,' Salvatore said. He smiled at his brother.

Angelo said, ‘Good and proper, Papa.'

‘Did he admit the fancy woman?'

‘It's more complicated than that, Papa,' Angelo said.

‘Life is complicated,' the Old Man said. ‘So?'

Angelo began by recounting the visit he and Gina made to Mrs Shayler in the morning, and how it had produced the telephone number Jack Shayler tried the previous night. Gina went through the phone conversation the number had produced with Howard the Printer in the early afternoon. Then Salvatore and Angelo described the late afternoon encounter with Jack Shayler.

BOOK: Family Business
10.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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