Authors: Frederic Lindsay
'So?'
'Heathers
threw
a
party
tonight.
John
Merchant
was
at
it,
your
brother
Malcolm's
boss.'
'From
what
I
hear
a
lot
of
people
go
to
Heathers'
parties.'
'That's
right.
And
for
the
last
month
we've
been
taking
a
note
of
all
of
them.
New
name
tonight,
your
brother
Malcolm
got
his
invitation.'
'And
Irene?'
Murray
asked.
The
words
were
out
before
he could
think
about
them.
'My
brother's
wife.'
'She
was
there
.
Only
she
left
early.
On
her
own.
When
she
came
out,
she
looked
annoyed.
Maybe
they
had
a
quarrel
about
something.'
'I
wouldn't
know,'
Murray
said.
'Give
us
time
and
we'll
know,'
Stewart
said.
The
grin
had
come
back.
'Everything
goes
on
the
big
computer
in
the
sky.
Anyway,
after
another
hour
your
brother
came
out.'
He
paused.
'With
the
black
woman,'
Murray
said.
It
wasn't
a
question.
'You're
such
a
quick
bastard,'
Stewart
said
in
irritation.
'You
should
have
been
a
detective.
I
went
after
them – being
a
friend
of
yours.'
'Did
you
recognise
her?'
'She's
new,
but
she
works
for
Heathers
all
right.
Not
directly,
of
course.
The
little
bastard
may
be
a
millionaire,
but
he
came
from
Moirhill
and
he
still
has
his
contacts.
He's
never
had
any
bother
getting
as
many
women
as
he
needed
to
sweeten
a
deal.'
'What
deal's
he
sweetening
here?'
Murray
asked,
but
that
was too
direct.
'Come
on,
Murray.
Peerse
is
my
gaffer
on
this
one.
He'd
cut
my
balls
off
if
I
told
you
anything.
If
I
told
anybody
anything – but
especially
you
.
You
know
how
he
feels
about
you.'
'You
want
more
coffee?'
Murray
asked.
'I
wouldn't
have
time
to
drink
it
–
not
in
five
minutes.'
'Stay
if
you
like.
You
can
sleep
in
here.
I'll
sleep
on
the
couch
through
there.'
'In
the
office,
eh?
Frightened
I
get
a
look
in
the
filing
cabinet?'
The
only
secret
of
the
filing
cabinet,
Murray
thought,
was
how
little
was
in
it.
He
wondered
if
that
was
what
Stewart
meant.
He
said,
'You
haven't
explained
how,
if
the
woman
came
out
with Malcolm,
she
finished
up
with
you.'
'He
changed
his
mind
maybe.'
Stewart
stood
up.
'Look,
I
think
I'll
go
home
right
enough.
I've
got
a
little
bit
left
to
give
the
wife.' Because
there
was
so
little
space,
when
Murray
stood
up
he
crowded
close
to
Stewart.
'Not
till
you
explain.'
'Suppose
I
shove
you
out
of
the
way
and
walk
out?'
'Don't
be
silly,'
Murray
said
quietly.
'You
couldn't
have
done
that
on
your
best
day
– and
that
was
a
long
time
ago.'
The
big
detective
licked
his
lips.
'Take
a
joke,
Murray.
I'm
not stupid
enough
to
get
into
any
go
with
you.'
He
glanced
away.
'More
sense
than
your
brother
–
he
got
into
a
–
he
got
a
doing.
Not
from
me!'
'No.
You
wouldn't
be
stupid
enough
to
come
here
if
it
was
you.'
'I
followed
the
two
of
them.
Your
brother's
wife
had
taken
his
car,
so
they
took
a
taxi through
the
tunnel,
got
out
on
Moirhill
Road.
Maybe
he'd
changed
his
mind
.
They
were
talking
and
two
plainclothes
guys
came
over
from
across
the
street,
they
didn't
see
me.
I
recognised
one
of
them
–
a
young
guy
–
you
wouldn't
know
him,
well
after
your
time.
But
you'd
know
the
type,
a
head-hanger.
Whatever
your
brother
said,
this
guy
hit
him
once
and
put
the
boot
in
a
couple
of
times
when
he
went
down
.
It
wasn't
any
big
deal.
I
came
forward
and
broke
it
up.
That's
all
there
was
to
it.'
Stewart
shrugged.
'I
did
your
brother
a
favour.'
'What
happened
then?'
'That
was
it.
Your
brother
got
a
taxi.
I
took
the
girl
home
–
since
I'd
stuck
my
nose
in,
I
thought
I'd
combine
business
with
pleasure.
See
if
she'd
talk.'
'Did
she?'
Stewart
shook
his
head.
'We're
back
to
Peerse
again,
Murray
.
You're
over
the
line.
That's
not
your
business.'
After
a
moment,
Murray
nodded;
accepting.