The Man in the Buff Breeches (7 page)

I am directed to the third floor and arrive at a new reception area. A nurse pauses over her keyboard and looks over her glasses at me. “Can I help you?”

“I would like to know how DS Salter is. He was admitted last night, with head injuries.”

“It’s not visiting time.” She frowns, and consults her watch.

“No, but if you could just tell me how he is?” She stares at me for a few seconds before her expression softens.

“Are you a relative?”

I shake my head. “Not really.”

“Girlfriend?” She smiles, and I’m about to say no but it comes out as, “Yes.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Just wait here a moment.” She heads off.

Damn it! Now I’m a liar and an impersonator. It just gets worse. Why did I say that? I could have said sister, or colleague. But that probably would be worse. After all, I am a girl and I am a friend. Loosely speaking. The nurse returns with a smile.

“You can go in for a few minutes. He is looking forward to seeing you.”

Oh, great! I want to run back out the door, but she shoos me like a mother hen up the corridor until it opens up into a ward on either side. She is distracted by a bald-headed man in a dressing gown, so I take the opportunity to bolt. Turning quickly, I catch my foot on a metal castor and find myself up against the tea trolley. A Mars bar and two satsumas tumble from it as I cling to the side to steady myself. I hunch down as low as possible, retrieve the items, and unobtrusively try to return them to the trolley.

“Want some tea with that, dear?” asks the trolley lady, who possesses the loudest voice ever.

“No, thank you,” I whisper, hoping to slink away.

“Hello, darling. What a surprise.” I freeze at the familiar voice of DS Salter and then slowly turn. He is propped up in the corner bed waving at me, grinning like a Cheshire cat. His thick gold hair has been cut away on the left side and a dressing applied. The nurse, who has now dispatched the man in the dressing gown, turns back and propels me towards his bed. “Ten minutes. Then he has to go down to x-ray,” she says, throwing us a conspiratorial smile as she leaves.

“So what are you doing here, sweetheart? I didn’t expect my girlfriend today.”

I roll my eyes and resist the urge to slap an injured man. “I came to check you weren’t dead. I had to pretend to be your girlfriend to get some information,” I whisper fiercely, as my face grows warm. “I wanted to reassure myself that I wasn’t responsible for your murder. The nurse jumped to conclusions.”

He raises his eyebrows barely containing his amusement. “So you didn’t say you were my girlfriend.”

“No! I mean yes, but I didn’t mean to. Oh, does it matter?” I look straight at him and take a deep breath. “I wanted you to know that I had no idea what that evil swine Nick was after, and I had no idea about the elephant.”

I tear my gaze away from those warm brown eyes and sensuous mouth. “And now I am going.”

The tea trolley lady has other ideas as she rumbles up with her chariot. “Here you are, my lovelies.” She hands us each a cup of tea and a pack of digestive biscuits wrapped in cellophane. I sit down in the chair in defeat and take a gulp of the tea.

“Your girlfriend sure is a looker,” calls the occupant of the bed opposite. I glare at him, and he disappears back behind his
Nuts
magazine.

“Yes, I realize now how lucky I am to have her,” he calls back, giving me a look which makes my toes curl. “Could you just pull the covers up for me, darling? They have got into a bit of a tangle.”

Oh, he is twice as annoying injured.

Aware I am under scrutiny, I act the part and none too gently, pull the covers straight and remove his empty biscuit wrapper. My hands brush his arms, causing a trail of heat to pulse through my body. I quickly sit back down in the chair.

He points to my digestives. “Are you going to eat them?”

“No.” I toss them at him—glad of the distraction from his stare. He wolfs them down in a second. Clearly, nothing much wrong with his appetite. I should go now. I’ve reassured myself he is on the road to recovery.

“I am not being charged,” I say quietly.

“I know I’ve been updated”—he nods at his phone—“unless I prosecute you for assault, of course. So have you come to plead for clemency?”

Oh, he’s just loving this
. I try not to react, but his grin is infectious and he looks so
…No stop! You’re off men, pull yourself together. You are going to become Sister Shona.

I avoid looking at his face and study my tea cup. “No, I was worried about you. That was one crack on the head you took. And I felt guilty about kicking you.”

“I forgive you. That creep was pretty convincing.”

“I have rotten taste in men.”

“Yes, you have—and ornaments,” he sighs. “I mean, look at those elephants.”

He is teasing me, but I don’t want to laugh or argue. In fact, I want him to put his arm around me like he did earlier in my flat and let me cry on his shoulder. I absentmindedly straighten the bed cover again and pick up the other biscuit wrapper. “DS Shepherd told me about you watching over me and going in early.”

“Did she now.” The grin disappears. “What else did she say?”

I smirk, giving him a taste of his own annoying manner. “Never you mind.”

He frowns and takes a sip of his tea.

“Well, I am a sucker for a pretty face in a Regency dress,” he says softly.

“Oh careful, that was almost something nice you said; perhaps you are not quite yourself after all.”

“Maybe not, but I think you should say something nice in return.”

I ponder for a second, then say, “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”

“Made a balls up of that, didn’t I?”

“Yes.” I can’t help grinning. “But it was all so confusing. When you turned up on the steps of my flat I thought you were stalking me. I suppose you couldn’t have just said, ‘I’m police. You are dating a dangerous criminal.’ No! You had to smirk and pretend you were going to Starbucks.”

He shrugs. “It wasn’t my case. I shouldn’t have been there at all. I couldn’t tell you anything, and you wouldn’t have believed me anyway. Nick made a copy of your keys after he took them from your bag the evening of the ball. He went to your flat after he left you at the hotel and then returned them later so you wouldn’t notice. That’s what woke you up that night. He came back the afternoon you saw me outside your flat
.
I watched him leave empty handed a few minutes before you came home early from work.”

A wave of anger flows over me at the way I played into Nicks hands. “I could have helped you trap him if you had confided in me. I always wanted to be a detective.”

“Have you now,” he smirks. “Then maybe you should track down your lost elephant.”

“I wish I could—that would clear any suspicion of my guilt.”

He reaches over and pats my arm, and something inside me instantly melts. “I always knew you weren’t a criminal, Shona, even after you were so rude to me at the Regency ball.”

“I was rude!”

“Yes. I was about to ask you to dance, then you decided to injure yourself with a fan. After which you proceeded to march over and insult my breeches and compare me to a horse. Actually that bit was okay,” he grins
.
“Then when that smarmy looking prick Nick monopolized you—well, you looked like you went to heaven.”

“And ended up in hell,” I say. “I tend to do that with men.”

“You choose the wrong ones.”

“Yes, I know that.” I snap. “Anyway, your behaviour was pretty offensive that evening. Staring at my breasts through that quizzing glass, dressed in those provocative breeches.”

He gives me a look of complete innocence. “They were all that was left at the hire shop. And yes, I was admiring you but if I did linger over your breasts it was entirely unintentional…”

“Not because you had trouble locating them,” I suggest.

He looks shocked—then grins. “I had no trouble at all. You looked adorable in that dress. Honestly, I really wanted to ask you to dance. Then Ros arrived and filled me in on the man you were with.”

“Ros?”

“DS Shepherd.”

“Ah! Bo Peep—I thought she was your girlfriend.”

He laughs. “We trained together years ago. She was working undercover the night of the ball, and we used the hotel room as a base to keep an eye on you and Nick.”

My phone vibrates. It’s Lyn texting. Drat! She is on her way to my flat. I take a deep breath and stand up. “I have to go. Will you be okay? I mean, have you anyone to look after you when you are discharged?”
Oh no,
don’t go there
.

“Why, Miss Bennet, is that an offer?”

“No! I just want to…”

“Ease your conscience,” he finishes.

His smile disappears, and it’s like the sun has gone in.

“I’ll be all right,” he says. “I was due to visit my cousin in Wales. It seems a good place to recover, especially as I’ve been signed off for a week.”

“Good. That’s fine then.”

He is looking serious, but the warmth in his eyes caresses me. “When this is all over, Miss Bennet, perhaps you might rethink your type of boyfriend and we could start again. I could take you for a coffee and seduce you with a cream cake.”

I ponder on the thought as my legs turn to jelly—but I’m off men. I don’t think I will trust them ever again. I store the cake thought for later contemplation and steer the conversation to a subject that will not make my heart flutter. “I am going to become a nun.” He raises his eyebrows, and his mouth falls open.

“Goodbye.” I turn quickly and head down the ward because I don’t want to hear his reply. I am angry all of a sudden. Sodding men! They make life so complicated.

I sit on the settee with Lyn and partake in coffee, custard creams, and a couple of paracetamol. My bunny slippers are sleepy eyed and comforting as they curl around my feet.

Lyn has been stunned into silence with my revelations of the night’s events. Finally she speaks. “Heck, Shona, that was some date. I can’t believe that Nick he seemed so, so—”

“Regency!” I supply.

“It’s not funny,” she says. And as for Stephen—well I never really took to him. Too many white teeth and smiles.”

I glare at her. I really don’t need comments like that as I already feel like the world’s worst idiot. “If only I could find that elephant he gave me.”

Lyn frowns. “Well, surely it’s here somewhere. What did it look like?”

It has a long trunk and four legs
. “Wooden, about a foot long,” I say wearily.

She looks around at my collection. “Any other distinguishing features?”

“Well, you said he was an ugly beast when I unpacked it the day after we flew back from the Caribbean. I can’t remember what happened to it after that…” I stop because Lyn has turned a strange shade and is looking at me with a very guilty expression.

“Oh heck, Shona, I think I know where it is.” She slams down her mug, causing coffee to rain over the bunnies.

I stare at her and reach for another paracetamol. My heart has started to race. “Go on then! Where?” I prompt.

“Remember that storm the day after we came back from holiday. We sat here watching the rain trickle down the wall over there.” She points to the corner of the window where the roof overhangs the Juliet balcony.

“I fixed the leak that afternoon after you were called into work. I had nothing else to do so I tried to make a repair. The wood panelling is loose, and if you move it you can push the ceiling tile away. The outside tile on the overhang was damaged so I covered it on the inside with a plastic bag to make it waterproof then wedged it in place with a piece of wood—shaped like an elephant.” She bites her lip and looks warily at me. “I tried several objects: the Rubik cube, books, but the backside of the elephant was the exact fit. It was meant to be a temporary repair, but I forgot to tell you.”

Simultaneously we haul ourselves up. Lyn stands on a chair and manipulates the wood panel by the window. After a lot of persuasion, it shifts and she pushes her arm up and removes the ceiling tile. Her head disappears through the crack, and moments later she reappears with the elephant. She climbs down and puts in on the carpet, and we peer at the mahogany coloured object in fascination.

“Shall we try and open it?” she asks.

“No! I think we should leave it as we found it.” I pick up my phone and punch in Bo Peep’s number.

Bo Peep is sitting on my living room floor inspecting the rescued elephant with her colleague.

I see nothing but a wooden elephant. She sees a smuggling implement and after a visual examination she produces a nail file and inserts it in the seam underneath the elephant’s body. After a few minutes of manipulation the elephant springs open like a chocolate egg. Plastic packets of white powder spill out. I expect her to open one to dip her finger in and taste it, but she assures me that it would be a rather stupid thing to do.

“Cocaine—about a kilo by the look of it. No wonder he was keen to retrieve it.” Bo Peep carefully packs the drugs along with elephant into plastic bags. She then settles down to take a statement from Lyn.