Читать книгу Death By Sugar - Helen Goltz - Страница 5

I saw the Mercedes driver before he saw me. I just happened to be standing at my office window when he arrived on a motorcycle. I saw him take the helmet off and check my business card. He was dressed in black pants, a black leather jacket and had his hair tied back in a short ponytail.

I heard the lift open but assumed he was looking at the card again, or fixing his hair because he didn't enter straight away. It was probably the former. Eventually he came to the door looking confused. To be fair, there was no sign on the door for either a publicity or PI business.

'Hello. Jesse Clarke,' I extended my hand.

'Right,' he looked down at the card, then took my hand and shook it firmly. 'I met a guy yesterday. He gave me this card. I thought he was Jesse Clarke.'

'I guess "Jesse" can go either way. But no, that was … he promotes the business.'

'Right,' he said again. 'You're short for a PI.'

'Yeah,' I agreed. 'The manual said five foot eight. With heels I just qualified.'

He looked at me, unsure. My stunning wit was wasted on him. I pointed to a seat and watched as he sat down with trepidation. I hoped we could get down to business before Ed came back. Ed's new blonde streaks might scare him off.

When he removed his leather jacket I saw a toned abdomen underneath a black fitted shirt. He looked good. I had always been good at detecting handsome men. It was a skill that came naturally.

'And you are?'

'Yeah. Right. Renzo Leonardo. Call me Ren.'

'You're the owner of the sports car that blew up yesterday.'

'Yeah, a Mercedes SLK55 AMG convertible.'

'So I heard.' I waited. He said nothing. 'Does your family own that restaurant - Leonardo's?

'Yeah, been there?' his eyes lit up.

'Sure. It's great.'

'Thanks. It's been in the family a long time. I manage it now. Been thinking of changing the name to the Italian Stallion,' Ren shrugged. 'What do you think?'

I tried not to groan.

'Risky, you've got such a strong brand name. Be a shame to ruin all those years of goodwill.'

'Yeah, I was thinking that too. Come down some time, I'll make sure you are looked after. Bring a friend.'

'Love to, thanks. So, can I get you a tea or coffee?'

'No, I'm good. Thanks,' Ren answered.

I waited again. Nothing.

'So you want me to find who blew it up?'

'Can you do that?'

'I'll give it a fair go.'

'How much?'

'I'm not cheap,' I smiled at him. Again, wasted wit. I mentioned my rates and he nodded. I didn't detect any panic.

'Okay. Well how does this work? Will you call me?' he rose.

'Well, I'll need to talk to you first and then I'll work on it. Every few days or once a week I'll call with an update, whatever you prefer.'

'Will you be talking to the cops as well?'

'Yes. Do you want to talk now?'

'Can't now. I've got to get to work.'

'Okay, we can do it later. So you're riding the bike now?'

'Yeah. I've got another Merc, but I'm a bit nervous about it now. Do you think the bike's at risk too?'

'No. Maybe … I don't know, I was just curious,' I nodded towards the leather jacket. 'A stable of vehicles, huh?'

I wondered if he'd make the link.

'It's my thing,' he shrugged, 'I collect things I like.'

I nodded; it sounded creepy and immediately I thought of a lot of questions. We agreed to meet the next day at his restaurant, before it opened for business. He rose and I walked him out.

Client number two. Business was booming!

****

'Do I get a cut for bringing in business?' Dominic asked as he perched on the edge of my desk.

'Only fair I think,' Ed agreed. I looked from one to the other.

'Ed, tell me, when Dom started his personal training business and we did the publicity for him, did we ever get paid for that?'

Ed grinned.

'I sent the invoice, but I remember the client saying he was going to pay in kind.'

'And I have!' Dominic argued. 'Many, many times. And I'm willing to go on paying in kind.'

'What a guy!' I smiled at him.

'I resent and resemble that remark,' he teased and slid off the desk. 'Let's go; it's after five. Ed haven't you got a pilates class to go to or something?'

'Not tonight. Tonight is brisk walk and martinis night.'

'One counteracts the other,' Dominic frowned.

'I walk fast so I can earn that martini. What have you two love birds got planned?'

'Tonight is good sex and beer night,' Dominic looked hopeful.

'Is it?' I played him. 'I thought it was Sav Blanc and Dom cooks night!'

****

Ren's restaurant was in the main precinct of the west end. It was huddled among shops and cafés with similar dark timber facades that spoke of hard work and eccentric characters. Further up the street progress had moved in: a brightly-coloured contemporary cement block of units and a row of glass boutiques offering permanent clothing and shoe sales encroached on the village feel. The area frequently featured in the newspapers as locals had declared battle against developers.

Sitting at the front of the restaurant were three senior Italian men. Their faces were worn, they puffed on small stubs of cigarettes and waved their hands as they spoke. I loved the character of the area but I stood out like an alien.

I pushed open the door to Ren's restaurant and entered. It had a rich ambience, with warm brown and burgundy walls, plush booths, dark timber tables and elegant lamps. On a beautiful sunny day it might have felt claustrophobic but the wind chill and grey skies outside made it inviting. My eyes adjusted to the dim lighting and I spotted Ren behind the bar. He wore jeans and another black shirt. I guessed his wardrobe was predominantly black.

We slipped into a booth and he beckoned one of his staff. I asked for English Breakfast Tea.

'I rang the cops this morning,' he frowned. 'They're clueless.'

I shrugged.

'They've got a stack of work on and I imagine the fire has ruined any evidence that may have been in the car.' I got the contact details of the officer he had been dealing with before continuing.

'Do you think someone was trying to kill me or were they just trying to scare me?' he asked.

'I don't know. You're still alive - that's a positive sign,' I assured him.

'So how are you going to solve it?'

'Good question.' I tried to conceal my panic. The words "how the hell do I know" threatened to slip out. 'I'll start by asking questions, find some facts and see if it directs us somewhere.'

'Okay, shoot.' He leaned forward across the table and glared at me as though preparing for a round of Who Wants to be a Millionaire.

'I'll be asking other people questions too, not just you.'

'Oh, sure,' he relaxed and his expression changed. 'Like who?'

'It'll depend where each of the leads - uh - leads me. I may need to talk to the cops, your insurance company, your mechanic, witnesses at the coffee shop, that kind of thing.'

'Fine. Just make sure they know you're working for me. I don't want them to think I'm being investigated.'

'I understand,' I assured him. 'So, do you have any natural enemies?'

'What do you mean?'

'Well, you know, sharks are natural enemies for seals. That kind of thing…?' He looked lost. I had to simplify. 'Do you know anyone who would want to blow up your car?'

'Shit yeah. Who wouldn't want to blow it up? If you saw a guy driving a sleek Mercedes convertible wouldn't you want to rough him?'

'No.'

He shrugged.

'I would. It's like the haves and have-nots. People check me out and think "How did that guy get that? What kind of business is he in? Let's get him".'

I nodded. I was going to need a stronger drink than tea.

'So?'

'What?' He asked. I reiterated the question.

'Not off the top of my head,' he answered, 'like, I don't have any enemies, if that's what you mean.'

'That's what I mean.' Rich and stupid, I thought. I made a mental note to ask short and direct questions.

'Tell me exactly what you did that morning from the time you got up until your car exploded,' I instructed. I opened my pad and waited, pen at the ready. I thought that looked professional; my publicity clients liked to see me taking notes.

He thought for a few seconds.

'I got up, had a shave and a dump…'

I winced - my fault for saying "exactly".

'… got in the shower then got dressed. I checked on Vince - he's my best friend, he's staying with me for a while - but he was out of it, so I got in the car and went to get a coffee. I parked, went straight to the front counter and ordered. I was drinking it when the phone rang so I answered it, but I couldn't hear who it was, so I went outside to see if reception was better. As I walked towards my car, it blew up. Jeez, if I hadn't taken that call, I could be history now.'

He looked at me. I hadn't made any notes. I sighed and started from the beginning, breaking down each thing he did and working him through it in detail. Fifty minutes later, he looked glazed over so I let him go. The publicity business was starting to look good again.