Gallery Whispers

33

'He really does have perfect teeth,' she thought. 'Even after all the rough-houses he must have been in his time, they're still straight and shining.'

McGuire's mouth hung open as he stared at her across his desk.

'No,' he gasped. 'She didn't really say that, Mario. You just imagined it, son, with all the strain you've been under in the last twenty-four hours. She didn't tell you that she's found a Hawkins suspect and made a date with him.

'No, of course she bloody didn't.' His mouth came together in a grim line.

'Oh yes she bloody did,' said Karen Neville, quietly but defiantly.

'Then what the hell were you thinking about, sergeant? Or didn't thought come into it. Weren't you listening when I told you how dangerous Michael Hawkins is?'

'Yes! Now you listen to me, please, inspector. I said that I thought at first that this could have been Hawkins, especially when I saw the limp. But now I know that it isn't. I've run checks already with the University of Western Australia. Wayne Ventnor did graduate from there fifteen years ago. I've also checked with Blaydon Oil; they do have a senior production engineer named Wayne Ventnor, and he is on long leave just now. He's recovering from an on-board accident, in fact. He broke his right ankle in a fall.'

'Fine,' McGuire shot back. 'But you didn't know all that when you made the date with the guy? You could have been putting your lovely blonde head on the block. If this had been Hawkins, did it ever occur to you that he might have checked up on you too? Suppose he did, and found out that you weren't a freelance conference organiser?' He shook his head. 'Jesus,' he hissed. 'It doesn't bear thinking about.'

'I could have handled him. Hawkins likes the ladies. Remember the CIA plant? He didn't rumble her, did he?'

'Karen, when CIA operatives are placed it's done carefully, with cover stories that stand up to investigation. You've spun this Ventnor man a yarn: now you've got to stick to it. You can't turn around and tell him you're really a copper, or you've blown our operation.' He grunted. 'The best thing you can do is stand the guy up.'

She glared back at him. 'But I don't want to stand him up. Now I've checked him out there's no reason why I should.'

'I could order you.'

'Could you? Are you sure about that?'

Suddenly his eyes were like ice. 'Karen,' he whispered. 'This is Special Branch. I could have you locked up for twenty-four hours if I wanted.' And then his gaze softened again. 'But I won't. Just watch the pillow talk, that's all.'

'Pillow talk?' The retort burst from her, indignantly. 'What sort of a woman do you think I am?'

He leaned back in his chair as if he was recoiling from her attack.

'Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that literally. It's just that in this section you can never forget who, or what you are; and you can't forget the nature of your work. I can't even tell Maggie about the Hawkins operation. Andy Martin can't tell Alex.'

'I heard Alex had chucked him,' said Karen, quietly. 'A friend of mine lives in the same street at Haymarket. She told me she saw her moving out at the weekend.'

McGuire's eyes widened. 'Is that so? Well here's some more serious advice. If you bump into him, don't you go commiserating with him.

Mr Martin doesn't like his business on the bulletin board.'