Risking It All Read Free Page B

after all.
     
    The afternoon was quiet and they didn’t really need me. Ganesh and I chatted about this and that, carefully not mentioning the morning’s visitor. We sold the odd Mars bar and packet of ciggies. Just after four, when Hari returned, I collected Bonnie from the storeroom where she’d been snoozing while I worked, and left the shop by the front entrance. Bonnie needed a walk.
     
    I set off briskly, but I hadn’t gone far, only to the next corner, when a small, moustached figure stepped out of a doorway and confronted me.
     
    ‘Francesca Varady?’
     
    ‘Shove off,’ I advised, my heart sinking. This had to be the guy who’d been round earlier.
     
    He ignored the brush-off. He was used to it in his line of work. ‘Clarence Duke,’ he introduced himself. ‘Private detective. My card!’ He produced another home-made effort with a flourish.
     
    I again advised him to take himself off asap, this time rather less politely.
     
    ‘Don’t be alarmed,’ he urged.
     
    ‘I’m not alarmed,’ I told him. ‘I just don’t want to talk to you. My mother warned me about strange men.’
     
    A funny look came over his face. ‘Your mother?’
     
    I was immediately sorry I’d said it. Since she’d walked out when I was seven, I’d never seen or heard from my mother again. A day doesn’t pass that I don’t miss Dad and Grandma Varady, who brought me up. But my mother I’ve never missed. Kids are resilient. Once I’d realised she wasn’t coming back, I’d cut her out of the scheme of things. I didn’t need her, and obviously she’d had no need of me.
     
    ‘I’d like to talk to you on a matter of business,’ said Clarence Duke, attempting an honest expression and failing dismally. ‘Can we go and have a cup of tea somewhere?’
     
    ‘No,’ I said. ‘I have to walk my dog.’
     
    He eyed Bonnie. ‘Then perhaps I could walk with you and we could have a little chat?’
     
    He was a creep. On the other hand, I’m incurably curious. ‘All right,’ I said. ‘But you do the talking. All I’ll do is listen until I get bored. I don’t guarantee any replies.’
     
    ‘Fair enough,’ said Clarence. ‘I don’t think you’ll be bored.’
     
    He smiled. He did have bad teeth.
     

Chapter Two
     
    We strolled along the path by the canal. After we passed under the bridge, I let Bonnie off the lead. She pottered happily ahead of us investigating interesting whiffs, of which there are plenty just below Camden Lock. The canal was on our left. The road on the other side of us was invisible high up behind a bank of dusty shrubs and a brick wall. There weren’t too many other people around. I like it down there by the canal, even though not all the memories it has for me are nice. Someone I knew died down there in that debris-strewn grey-green water lapping at the concrete rim. In my imagination, which is always active, I could picture his body, kept afloat by his old ex-army greatcoat, face down, arms outspread. But like I say, that’s my imagination. I never saw him dead. I just heard about it later.
     
    Thinking about that, I almost forgot Clarence Duke and had to pull myself together, realising he was talking to me. I wondered where he’d left his car. Parking places in Camden are like palm trees in the desert. They’re rare and they draw travellers to them from all directions. Being a motorist hadn’t stopped him donning running shoes. At any other time I’d have laughed. They were so clearly insurance. Few people are happy when they find they’re being trailed by a private investigator. I wondered how many quick getaways Duke had managed – and how many times he’d got caught and duffed up. He was of puny build. He ought to put in some time at the gym.
     
    ‘You don’t mind,’ he was saying, ‘if I just check with you I’ve got the right Fran Varady?’
     
    ‘I’ve never come across another one,’ I said sourly. ‘And I’m not answering questions,