Everyone quickly found out about the secret den, though, largely because Jeff quickly told them about it. Thereafter, whenever anyone wanted to talk about Henk, they would go to the pub instead.
Jeff looks at Susan. “May I ask you one more question?”
“Fire away,” says Susan.
Jeff picks up the Loubet file again.
“Do you think Henk has ever looked at this file?”
“Oh, Henk looked at everything,” says Susan.
5
“What you up to?” asks Steve. The phone is cradled between his shoulder and his ear, both hands rubbing Trouble’s head. If you rubbed his head with only one hand, he let you know you were doing a poor job.
“Sitting by a pool drinking a protein shake,” says Amy. “You?”
“Watching Tipping Point while eating a Scotch egg,” says Steve. “Where’s your client? Shouldn’t you be with her?”
“She’s in an oxygen tent,” says Amy. “She’s meditating. What’s Tipping Point?”
“What’s Tipping Point?” says Steve. “You’re serious?”
“I’m guessing it’s a game show?” says Amy.
“Too right it’s a game show. ‘What’s Tipping Point’ indeed.” Sometimes Steve wonders what world Amy is living in. Everybody knows Tipping Point.
“Couldn’t you go for a walk or something?” asks Amy. “Do some tae kwon do? Get some fresh air?”
“I’ve got the window open,” says Steve. “And I’ve already been for two walks. I walked to the shop to get this Scotch egg, and I walked home again.”
“You shouldn’t eat Scotch eggs,” says Amy. “They’re not real food. They’re ultra-processed.”
“That’s why they’re so delicious,” says Steve.
“You have to eat properly, okay?” Amy says. “How are those organic vegetable boxes I ordered for you?”
Steve looks through to the kitchen and sees a pile of uneaten vegetables. Bob from the bakery comes to get them once a week for his compost heap.
“Terrific,” says Steve. “Courgettes, all sorts.” He knows he won’t get away with that easily. Amy is a trained interrogator.
“And how do you cook courgettes?” Amy asks.
“Well, you know,” says Steve. He must have seen this somewhere on a TV show. “Chop them up, whack them in a pan—”
“Uh huh.”
“Bit of oil, bit of salt.” That sounds convincing. And, anyway, she can’t prove anything.
“Steve, have you eaten anything from any of the boxes?”
“Not yet,” admits Steve. “I’ve been too busy to cook. I gave Margaret next door some spring onions and an aubergine, though.”
“I just don’t want you to die,” says Amy. “I know that’s selfish of me.”
“I don’t want you to die either, but I don’t stop you flying off around the world with guns.” Sometimes you need to go on the attack with Amy. That’s what she respects.
“I know,” says Amy. “But that’s different. I’m me.”
“Scotch eggs and guns are the same thing, Amy. There’s an equivalence. How’s Rosie D’Antonio? Diva?”
“Not yet,” says Amy. “I quite like her. Would you get a nose job, if you were me?”
“I once got my nose broken,” says Steve. “A woman in a pub with a brick. I was trying to arrest her brother on the Old Kent Road. What’s an oxygen tent?”
“A tent full of oxygen,” says Amy. “Anything interesting on?”
“A lost dog,” says Steve. “Londoners. What’s the weather like?”
“Sunny,” says Amy. “You’d hate it. You’d melt.”
“What SPF are you wearing?”
“I don’t believe in it,” says Amy. “I sweat a lot; it protects me naturally.”
“Jesus, Amy,” says Steve. “Thirty on the arms, fifty on the face. So no one’s shot at her yet?”
“Not yet,” says Amy. “Where’s the dog, do you reckon?”
