front with you concerning missing persons. Luck plays a major part in finding the person sought – especially if that person doesn’t want to be found. Understand? I just don’t want you getting your hopes too high on me finding your uncle.’
‘All I ask is that you do your best, Karl,’ said Jemma, shaking Karl’s hand before disappearing out of the office, leaving the fragrance of her expensive perfume floating in the air.
‘You can close your mouth now, Karl. Flies are getting in,’ said Naomi, quickly entering the room after Jemma’s departure. ‘A pair of panties and you crumble.’
‘How can you be so hurtful?’ said Karl. ‘Anyway, what’s eating you?’
‘We can talk about the rest of the bill later,’
mimicked Naomi, sarcastically.
‘You were eavesdropping –
again
. What have I told you about that?’
‘Since when did we begin taking deposits?’ countered Naomi, ignoring the accusation. ‘Miss Jemma Doyle looked as if she could more than afford our
special
client fee, never mind a nominal two hundred.’
‘Naomi Kirkpatrick! I think you’re jealous.’
‘Tell that to the landlord next week when he comes for his money. Guarantee he won’t be saying
we can talk about the bill later
.’
‘You’re starting to sound just like me, and that’s scary. Comeon. Let’s head over to Nick’s Warehouse,’ said Karl, holding up the five twenties in surrender. ‘I’ll buy you a lovely evening meal – and I’ll even have some expensive candlelight thrown in.’
‘Good job I’m
not
the jealous type, Karl Kane.’ Naomi smiled, quickly snatching the money from his hands.
‘How come every time I get money handed to me, you have the uncanny ability to make me feel skint?’
‘We’ll order a nice vegetarian meal, washed down with some nice expensive wine.’
‘Did I hear you right? Vegetarian?’ said Karl, making a face. ‘I warned you about trying to impose your sick beliefs on me. I want a good piece of meat, not some bloody dead plant or withered flowers.’
‘No meat tonight. Come on. No more arguing,’ said Naomi, putting on her jacket. ‘A strange coincidence, don’t you think, Jemma Doyle finding your card like that?’
‘That’s your suspicious mind working overtime, Naomi.’ Karl grabbed his jacket, and began easing into it. ‘I’ve no problem with coincidences – provided they only happen once and are entirely accidental. ‘
But as he turned the lights off in the office, his own suspicious mind went into overdrive. Actually, he hated coincidences, especially those introduced by beautiful women.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ANALYZE THIS
‘Nothing is perfect. There are lumps in it.’
James Stephens,
The Crock of Gold
I t was early next morning when Karl awoke to a million wasps rattling about inside his eardrums. Elsewhere, another type of noise was sounding, somewhere in the bedroom.
‘Huh…?’
It was his mobile phone, resting on the bedside table.
He tried ignoring the incessant screeching, but the more he tried, the more the migraine headache drilled its way into the side of his skull.
Surrendering, he reached and lifted the annoying piece of plastic to his ear.
‘Hello?’ he asked in a groggy, injured tone.
‘Karl? What the hell took you so long?’ asked an annoyed voice. ‘I was about to hang up.’
‘Tom…? Sorry…I…oh, my fucking head…’ moaned Karl, hand squeezing tight against his forehead. ‘It’s Saturday morning . Don’t you ever go home?’
‘Sounds like you over-indulged in something, and I’m not talking about vitamins.’
‘Went out for a meal last night with Naomi. Got blocked out of my head. I think she spiked my drink. She’ll do anything to get me into bed.’
An elbow shot into Karl’s ribs.
‘Oh!
That hurt, Naomi,’ protested Karl. ‘Thought you were sleeping?’
‘Keep me out of your conversation,’
hissed Naomi, rolling over, taking most of the blankets with her.
‘Karl? Are you there?’ asked
‘All I ask is that you do your best, Karl,’ said Jemma, shaking Karl’s hand before disappearing out of the office, leaving the fragrance of her expensive perfume floating in the air.
‘You can close your mouth now, Karl. Flies are getting in,’ said Naomi, quickly entering the room after Jemma’s departure. ‘A pair of panties and you crumble.’
‘How can you be so hurtful?’ said Karl. ‘Anyway, what’s eating you?’
‘We can talk about the rest of the bill later,’
mimicked Naomi, sarcastically.
‘You were eavesdropping –
again
. What have I told you about that?’
‘Since when did we begin taking deposits?’ countered Naomi, ignoring the accusation. ‘Miss Jemma Doyle looked as if she could more than afford our
special
client fee, never mind a nominal two hundred.’
‘Naomi Kirkpatrick! I think you’re jealous.’
‘Tell that to the landlord next week when he comes for his money. Guarantee he won’t be saying
we can talk about the bill later
.’
‘You’re starting to sound just like me, and that’s scary. Comeon. Let’s head over to Nick’s Warehouse,’ said Karl, holding up the five twenties in surrender. ‘I’ll buy you a lovely evening meal – and I’ll even have some expensive candlelight thrown in.’
‘Good job I’m
not
the jealous type, Karl Kane.’ Naomi smiled, quickly snatching the money from his hands.
‘How come every time I get money handed to me, you have the uncanny ability to make me feel skint?’
‘We’ll order a nice vegetarian meal, washed down with some nice expensive wine.’
‘Did I hear you right? Vegetarian?’ said Karl, making a face. ‘I warned you about trying to impose your sick beliefs on me. I want a good piece of meat, not some bloody dead plant or withered flowers.’
‘No meat tonight. Come on. No more arguing,’ said Naomi, putting on her jacket. ‘A strange coincidence, don’t you think, Jemma Doyle finding your card like that?’
‘That’s your suspicious mind working overtime, Naomi.’ Karl grabbed his jacket, and began easing into it. ‘I’ve no problem with coincidences – provided they only happen once and are entirely accidental. ‘
But as he turned the lights off in the office, his own suspicious mind went into overdrive. Actually, he hated coincidences, especially those introduced by beautiful women.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ANALYZE THIS
‘Nothing is perfect. There are lumps in it.’
James Stephens,
The Crock of Gold
I t was early next morning when Karl awoke to a million wasps rattling about inside his eardrums. Elsewhere, another type of noise was sounding, somewhere in the bedroom.
‘Huh…?’
It was his mobile phone, resting on the bedside table.
He tried ignoring the incessant screeching, but the more he tried, the more the migraine headache drilled its way into the side of his skull.
Surrendering, he reached and lifted the annoying piece of plastic to his ear.
‘Hello?’ he asked in a groggy, injured tone.
‘Karl? What the hell took you so long?’ asked an annoyed voice. ‘I was about to hang up.’
‘Tom…? Sorry…I…oh, my fucking head…’ moaned Karl, hand squeezing tight against his forehead. ‘It’s Saturday morning . Don’t you ever go home?’
‘Sounds like you over-indulged in something, and I’m not talking about vitamins.’
‘Went out for a meal last night with Naomi. Got blocked out of my head. I think she spiked my drink. She’ll do anything to get me into bed.’
An elbow shot into Karl’s ribs.
‘Oh!
That hurt, Naomi,’ protested Karl. ‘Thought you were sleeping?’
‘Keep me out of your conversation,’
hissed Naomi, rolling over, taking most of the blankets with her.
‘Karl? Are you there?’ asked
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