Autographs In The Rain Part 36

He chuckled. Tm better looking than McGuire, anyway.

'Be sure, Lucy, it would be just as dangerous for anyone to attack your house in Glasgow as it would be to try anything here.'

'That's good to know,' sighed the younger Bankier sister, sincerely.

'One thing though. Where did you leave your car? I a.s.sume that you "drove through.'

'Yes. It's in the street.'

'That's fine for today. But in future, when you're through here, park it in the driveway of the house.'

Mcllhenney rose from his chair. 'Okay, Louise,' he said. Tm off; hopefully you can get on with learning that script with no interruptions.'

She stood with him and walked him to the door. 'Oh, yes,' he added.

'There may be one. The Big Man will probably look in on you before he goes home.'

'My other jailer,' she murmured, with a smile.

'I'm sorry if it feels like that. . .'

'... but it's for my own good. Yes, sir, I know, but still, I am this man's prisoner, effectively.'

'No you're not,' he a.s.sured her. 'You can go where you like, when you like, with me.'

'Okay,' she shot back, still smiling, 'take me to a movie tomorrow night . .. any d.a.m.ned movie.'

He hesitated. 'In the dark? Among people who'd recognise you?'

'Hey,' she protested. 'I'm not hiding from the world at large, just from one man. And he's not going to try anything in a crowd, with you around.

The worst that'll happen is that you'll have to watch me sign a few autographs.' She broke off, picked up what looked like a piece of card from the hall table, and handed it to him. 'That reminds me; I promised you this.'

He turned it over; it was a photograph, signed, 'For Neil, Lauren and Spencer, with love, Lou.'

'Hey, thanks!' he exclaimed, almost bashfully. 'Okay, tell you what.' He glanced at her enquiringly, 'How's your schedule tomorrow?'

154.

AUTOGRAPHS IN THE RAIN.

'I read in the morning, then I have a production meeting here in the afternoon with Warren Judd and Elliott Silver. I'm executive producer on this project as well; it's part of the deal.'

'Well,' he said, suddenly tentative, 'once that's done, would you like to have supper with the kids and me; after that, you and I can go on to a movie somewhere discreet, you understand.'

She smiled; it seemed to light up the narrow hall. 'Hey, I'd love it. I enjoy nothing more than just behaving like an ordinary human being; until you've lived in a goldfish bowl like mine, you can't know how precious

that is.'

'Sure I can,' he murmured. She looked at him, but came nowhere close to reading his thoughts. 'Sure I can.'45.Dan Pringle's description had been spot on, Andy Martin acknowledged as he stepped out of his sports car, after a b.u.mpy journey up the sort of country track for which it had decidedly not been designed.

Despite his discomfort, he was glad that he had come; he was intrigued by the superintendent's investigation but had felt remote from it. As was the case with Bob Skinner, the ties of his supervisory role chafed him from time to time, and occasionally he felt compelled to loosen them . . . albeit less frequently than his friend and commander.

As he started to walk towards the woman, she turned in his direction.

Mercedes Alvarez would have stood out in any crowd; she was, he guessed, in her mid-thirties, and looked as stereotypically Spanish as anyone he had ever seen, with jet-black hair and sparkling brown eyes which seemed to burn like coals as she glared at her unexpected visitor.

'Yes?' she demanded aggressively as they approached each other. 'You can't read the sign maybe; the one on the gate which says that this place is not open to the public?'

'Yes, I read it, Ms Alvarez,' the detective chief superintendent replied, 'but I don't qualify as the public. I'm a policeman.' He introduced himself, but she was unmollified.

'Another policeman!' she protested. 'Two of you came to see me yesterday; they even asked me to meet them here. Wasn't that enough?'

'Apparently not. They reported to me that you seemed less than interested in what they had to say.'

'No. That's not so. Of course I am interested in my fish; of course I am sorry for what happened to those two other farmers, whoever they are.'

'I'm glad to hear it. In that case I a.s.sume that you'll follow their advice and install the security equipment that they recommended.'

He sensed her move on to the defensive for the first time. Til look into it,' she said, dismissively. Til have to see what it costs; maybe I can't afford it.'

156.

AUTOGRAPHS IN THE RAIN.Martin glanced around the big site, listening to the noise of the pumps, and the music of the running water which flowed constantly through the big tanks. 'You can't afford not to, Ms Alvarez. If you want to be able to insure your stock in the future, you're going to have to invest in alarms and a proper video system.'

'Who says?'

'I say. We say. The police, who are expending considerable time and money investigating the consequences of other farmers too shortsighted to invest in proper protection against theft. We say you'll have to, and you can be dead certain that the insurance companies will back us up.'

The woman flared up again, her Latin eyes flas.h.i.+ng. 'You can't threaten me like that.'

Martin grinned at her, amused by her reaction. 'Sure I can,' he told her.

'I can back it up too. Don't make me have to; install that equipment.'

She seemed to capitulate; finally she smiled at him. 'Okay, okay,' she exclaimed, raising her hands in token of defeat. Til need to speak to Mr John, my bank manager, maybe . . . it's really him who runs this place ...

but I'll do it.'

'Is that Andrew John?' the detective asked.

'Yes. His office is in Edinburgh, but he comes to see me down here.'

'I know Andrew; I'll speak to him, tell him what the situation is. I shouldn't think there will be a problem.'

The smile left her face in an instant. 'No!' she snapped. 'You no' do that. That's my business; I'll deal with it.'

'Okay then, but you make sure you do. I'm going to send Detective Sergeant McGurk back here on Friday; I'll expect you to show him a functioning video setup.'

'If you say so,' she grumbled. 'But I have an alarm; I have a video system.

Kath,' she called to another, younger, woman, who was loading feed into a dispenser. She stopped, laid down the big paper sack, and walked towards them, a big strong-looking girl in the inevitable black rubber boots.

'This is Kath Adey,' said the Spanish farmer. 'She's my manager, and she lives here.' She pointed to a cottage on the far side of the tank complex.

'She sees everything, and she has a loud voice to shout "Help", if she needs to. Don't you, Kath?'