Pix (Volume Book 24) (Harpur & Iles Mysteries) by Bill James Page A

the shield, Ralph,’ Harpur said.
    â€˜Shield? Which shield is that, Mr Harpur?’
    â€˜
The Marriage of Heaven and Hell
. Fine against someone shooting from the door. But useless if he or they is or are actually inside the club.’
    â€˜Oh, you mean the air-conditioning baffle board.’
    â€˜No, the two-centimetre-thick steel slab.’
    â€˜Yes, an air-conditioning baffle board,’ Ember said. ‘The engineers maintained it would give me I don’t know how many per cent better heating or cooling by deflecting air currents. They drew diagrams – looked like the wind direction maps on a TV weather forecast. I thought it worth investing.’
    â€˜Chargeable against tax as a business expense? How do you describe it to the Revenue – “William Blake anti-hitman rampart”?’
    â€˜And definitely my electricity bills are down,’ Ember replied.
    â€˜You let all sorts in here.’
    â€˜Many a droll comment I get, as you can well imagine, Mr Harpur, when I tell folk where the illustrations come from. Couples remark they could have posed for pictures with that as the title – each claiming to be the Heaven side of their own marriage, of course,’ Ember said. ‘I’ve heard that a hundred times but I feel it kindly to laugh. This seems to me a duty of one who presumes to run a club – kindness, bonhomie.’
    â€˜How do you vet people?’
    â€˜Which?’
    â€˜Members.’
    â€˜A definite and proven procedure.’
    â€˜Being?’
    â€˜I couldn’t tell you how many applications we turn down, Mr Harpur.’
    â€˜It’s the ones you
don’t
turn down that worry me.’
    â€˜And how’s the big scene, city-wide?’ Ember replied.
    â€˜I was going to ask
you
that. Things shift, Ralph.’
    â€˜Constantly.’
    â€˜But you manage to keep ahead, do you, you and Manse?’
    â€˜ “Ahead”? I’m not sure what ahead means in that context. The club continues. And, obviously, even if I did know what ahead means, I couldn’t answer for Manse.’
    â€˜You’re pals. You’d probably hear if he had problems, wouldn’t you?’
    â€˜Would I? What kind of problems, Mr Harpur?’
    Chandor and his party turned to leave. Chandor gave Ralph a small nod and a small smile. Ember nodded back.
    â€˜Yes, things shift,’ Harpur said. ‘It’s hard to keep up.’
    Ember refilled Harpur’s glass and then went off to another part of the club. Harpur sat on for a while with his drink but talked to nobody else, learned nothing and
had
learned nothing, except that
The Marriage of Heaven and Hell
might be only a placebo, and he’d known that already. When he reached home, his daughter, Jill, came out into the hall and said: ‘People here, dad. One’s the Press. Both ladies.’
    â€˜Oh?’
    â€˜Looking for you. To do with someone missing.’
    â€˜Oh?’
    â€˜A man. They’ve come on here from headquarters. We’ve been taking care of them.’
    Harpur didn’t always like it when Jill and his other daughter, Hazel, took care of callers. The two girls could be very considerate, hospitable and deeply nosy. ‘Thanks, Jill,’ he said.
    She went ahead of him into the big sitting room: ‘Here’s dad now,’ she said. ‘He’ll sort things out.’
    Harpur thought he recognized one of the women, not the other.
    â€˜Kate, of the
Evening Register
,’ Jill said, waving a hand towards the younger woman. ‘She’s Crime.’
    â€˜Ah, yes,’ Harpur said, ‘I’ve seen you around the courts, haven’t I, and at press conferences?’
    Jill waved again, this time indicating the other visitor: ‘Meryl Goss, from London,’ she said. ‘She’s on a search for someone. Well, her partner.’
    â€˜Searching where?’ Harpur said.
    â€˜He’s in this