I got back.
"Nothing to report, sir," she said, and gave me another mock salute as I sat down.
"Thanks," I said. "You can stand down."
She reached over and took one of my Marlboros.
"What are these? American?" she asked.
"Yes. They're pretty strong if you're not used to them."
She shrugged and lit up.
"So why all the cloak and dagger?" she asked.
"I'm on a case," I said. "And Durban knows something about it. I'm keeping an eye on him for a while, and anything you can tell me would be useful."
"I don't really know much," she said. "And Mr. Durban's friendly with my boss. I don't want to get into any trouble."
"It's just between you, me and the gatepost," I said, and she looked at me again as if I was stupid. Maybe I was getting old-my patterns of speech didn't seem to register with the young.
"It's just that he's weird," she continued. "And not just him-there's all those old folks he sees every Thursday."
"Every Thursday? Like, two days time Thursday?"
"Well, today's Tuesday, isn't it?" she said, and I got that look again. She was beginning to think I was a bit simple.
"They turn up at the shop after closing time. They must be eighty, if they're a day. There's four or five of them, the women all with fur coats and the men with smart suits. He takes them away in that big flash car of his. One day he brought them in here. They wanted iced tea, cucumber sandwiches, that kind of thing. And they treated the waitresses as if they were servants. Then they left big tips. Weird, huh?"
She was younger than I had first thought, probably no more than nineteen. I suppose I could excuse her some confusion at the foibles of the elderly, or the values of an older era.
"And this happens every Thursday."
"I told you that, didn't I?"
She sucked on her cigarette like a baby with a dummy. She smoked like a beginner, in small puffs, with little being inhaled. I double-breathed a smoke ring to show her how it should be done.
"Neat trick," she said. "But we had an old guy in here last week that could blow rings out of his ears. Now that was impressive."
"I'm sure it was."
I thought better of trying it-it sounded like something you might need an operation to do properly.
"Is there anything else you can tell me about Durban, or his partner."
Her face screwed up in concentration, and suddenly she reminded me of Liz. She shook her head.
"That's it. And I've never seen a partner-only Mr. Durban."
Maybe I should have got Doug to check up on the antique shop for me. There might be something there. I made a mental note to ask him later, then immediately forgot it.
"Well, thanks for your time," I said to the girl. I took a twenty-pound note from my wallet and passed it across the table.
"I get off at six," she said as she took it. "I could let you buy me a drink?"
But Liz was too big in my head. Eileen must have seen something in my eyes. She shrugged and left the table.
"Your loss," she said as she left. "I might not be able to blow smoke rings, but I've got other tricks."
"I'm sure you have, darling," I muttered after her, but she either didn't hear me, or chose to ignore me.
I ordered another coffee, but it was a different waitress who brought it.
Another chance gone. Over the years there had been a few, and each time Liz stopped me doing anything about it. Wee Jimmy was always berating me, and trying to goad me with details of his, probably fictitious, sex life. But I just wasn't ready. I might never be ready.
* * *
For the next two hours I nursed a cold coffee and watched the shop. I hoped they had a high profit margin on their items, for in all the time I'd sat there, they had only three customers. The lights went out at five-fifteen and Durban left the shop.
I rose and looked around for Eileen, but she wasn't around. I was almost tempted to hang around until six and let the case take care of itself. But I was getting paid, and I'd just feel guilty if I let my personal life interfere-at least so early in the case.
I
"Nothing to report, sir," she said, and gave me another mock salute as I sat down.
"Thanks," I said. "You can stand down."
She reached over and took one of my Marlboros.
"What are these? American?" she asked.
"Yes. They're pretty strong if you're not used to them."
She shrugged and lit up.
"So why all the cloak and dagger?" she asked.
"I'm on a case," I said. "And Durban knows something about it. I'm keeping an eye on him for a while, and anything you can tell me would be useful."
"I don't really know much," she said. "And Mr. Durban's friendly with my boss. I don't want to get into any trouble."
"It's just between you, me and the gatepost," I said, and she looked at me again as if I was stupid. Maybe I was getting old-my patterns of speech didn't seem to register with the young.
"It's just that he's weird," she continued. "And not just him-there's all those old folks he sees every Thursday."
"Every Thursday? Like, two days time Thursday?"
"Well, today's Tuesday, isn't it?" she said, and I got that look again. She was beginning to think I was a bit simple.
"They turn up at the shop after closing time. They must be eighty, if they're a day. There's four or five of them, the women all with fur coats and the men with smart suits. He takes them away in that big flash car of his. One day he brought them in here. They wanted iced tea, cucumber sandwiches, that kind of thing. And they treated the waitresses as if they were servants. Then they left big tips. Weird, huh?"
She was younger than I had first thought, probably no more than nineteen. I suppose I could excuse her some confusion at the foibles of the elderly, or the values of an older era.
"And this happens every Thursday."
"I told you that, didn't I?"
She sucked on her cigarette like a baby with a dummy. She smoked like a beginner, in small puffs, with little being inhaled. I double-breathed a smoke ring to show her how it should be done.
"Neat trick," she said. "But we had an old guy in here last week that could blow rings out of his ears. Now that was impressive."
"I'm sure it was."
I thought better of trying it-it sounded like something you might need an operation to do properly.
"Is there anything else you can tell me about Durban, or his partner."
Her face screwed up in concentration, and suddenly she reminded me of Liz. She shook her head.
"That's it. And I've never seen a partner-only Mr. Durban."
Maybe I should have got Doug to check up on the antique shop for me. There might be something there. I made a mental note to ask him later, then immediately forgot it.
"Well, thanks for your time," I said to the girl. I took a twenty-pound note from my wallet and passed it across the table.
"I get off at six," she said as she took it. "I could let you buy me a drink?"
But Liz was too big in my head. Eileen must have seen something in my eyes. She shrugged and left the table.
"Your loss," she said as she left. "I might not be able to blow smoke rings, but I've got other tricks."
"I'm sure you have, darling," I muttered after her, but she either didn't hear me, or chose to ignore me.
I ordered another coffee, but it was a different waitress who brought it.
Another chance gone. Over the years there had been a few, and each time Liz stopped me doing anything about it. Wee Jimmy was always berating me, and trying to goad me with details of his, probably fictitious, sex life. But I just wasn't ready. I might never be ready.
* * *
For the next two hours I nursed a cold coffee and watched the shop. I hoped they had a high profit margin on their items, for in all the time I'd sat there, they had only three customers. The lights went out at five-fifteen and Durban left the shop.
I rose and looked around for Eileen, but she wasn't around. I was almost tempted to hang around until six and let the case take care of itself. But I was getting paid, and I'd just feel guilty if I let my personal life interfere-at least so early in the case.
I
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