Moonspender (34 page)

I was especially glad when Ryan's speech closed, somewhat shakily,
with an offer to waive the cost of reconstructing the rehabilitation unit.

Ledger made me attend the coroner's court on Billiam's death.
Boothie and his dog were also there, he having strolled into the police station
one day and asked what was all this about his being reported dead, as he'd only
been on holiday. Billiam's verdict was accidental death. I didn't really listen
to the proceedings, because I'd had a disturbing message from Sykie earlier.
Today was the last of the month Sykie'd given me, and would be calling on me at
five "to square up, Lovejoy." This always means paying Sykie whatever
he simply guesses you owe. I'd had some of his squaring up before. It's painful
stuff.

That same day I drove Jo over to the rehab unit.

"W-w-what am I d-d-doing here, L-L-Lovejoy?" Jo asked.

I'd let her carry Toffee. She'd dressed posh, looked really nice
but ectopic.

"Dr. Pryor's a bloke who can cure some stutters."

"C-c-cure?" She was looking doubtfully at the horrible
new brick facade. "Me?"

"Well, worth a try, love, eh? And it's free." I'd sent
him the money I'd got from selling the fake bronze leopard to Sir John, who'd
be mad at the treachery, but I was used to that.

She went in, hesitant, then with sudden resolution. I drove back
to my cottage, using the track past Charleston's field. "You're in the clear,
Charleston," I yelled, chugging past. It glared balefully. That's what
thanks you get for risking your neck for people. But I was quite chirpy still
as I pulled in to my gravel drive. First time I'd been free for years, it
seemed. All over. Free, at peace.

Enid was in the porch.

"Hello, love. Anything up?" I hauled Toffee down.

"Magister, I have come to serve."

"Oh. Good." Serve who? With what? I unlocked the door
and entered, her following. Maybe it was time for her tablet. She gazed around,
pleased.

"Is this where you enact, Magister?"

"Er, usually. My, er, mantra and that." I lowered
Toffee, who strolled about, stretching. "Look, love. This magister thing.
Call me Lovejoy."

"Lovejoy," she repeated solemnly. "A
symbolic?"

"Eh? Oh, aye." Five more minutes and I'd be as barmy as
her. The phone rang. "Put the kettle on, love." The receiver said it
was Vanessa.

"Vanessa?" Did I know a Vanessa?

"Are all aerial photographers Vanessa?" She cut through
my bluster. "I guess from the 
Advertiser
 you liked my sky
shots."

"Great, great."

"There's the little matter of—"

"How about you call round, love?" We fixed on
six-thirty.

The phone summoned me back before I'd even sat down.
"Lovejoy? Suzanne."

"Hello, Suzanne." There were three letters in the
vestibule, two bills and one that needed opening. "How's your rotten old
restaurant?"

She laughed. "Don't be silly. I wanted to thank you. The
supplies of naturally-grown produce for my restaurant will be a winner."
She meant Robie and his
nondaft
farming. "About
money."

"Still some out there in the world, is there?"

"For you, yes. I'm appointing you adviser on our antique
displays." We both waited for her to plan phrases sufficiently bent for
her purpose. The envelope held a brief executive command from the George.
Veronica was in Room 209, it seemed. What is the matter with people? Have they
no homes to go to? "I've set aside a room here for you, Lovejoy."

I said how kind and she said not at all, come soon because the
check was ready. I promised. Narked, I quickly rang the George, and got
Veronica in a babble of voices.

"Veronica? What the hell's this?"

"Lovejoy?" She was dangerous, honeysweet. "Glad you
rang. Seven sharp. First of thirteen shows, lover."

"No, ta," I said. "Promise I'll watch,
though."

"You won't. You've signed the contract. Remember giving me
your autograph at the reception?" The treacherous bitch. She was still
laughing as I slammed the receiver down, in time to catch another ring. Free?
At peace? That what I said?

"Lovejoy? Lize." She sounded so breezy.

"What?" On guard, Lovejoy. She'd never accepted Lize
before.

"Just wondering what time you'll be home, sweetheart."

Home? I was already home. "Eh? Oh, sevenish."

"Right. If you get home before me, switch the oven on. It's a
casserole."

"Right," I said, heartily as I could with a headache.
Casserole? Oven? What is this?

Enid was kneeling on the peg rug, silently pouring the tea. With
every passing second she looked better and better. The doorbell. There stood
Candice, majorless.

"Sorry, Candice," I said. "I'm just off out."

"I don't intend to stay, Lovejoy." Flounce skirt today,
a sling jacket, which were all right. But she wore an antique plaited glass
headband, yellow and white. I'd not seen one since the Sudbury auction three
years gone.

"No? Pity," I said to the headband.

"The major's . . . left." Her tone told me he'd got the
sailor's elbow. "About your arrangement with my aged aunt, Lovejoy."
She heard Enid's quiet movements indoors, merely smiled. "I could be very
troublesome, disrupt her wonderful restaurant, spoil those new displays of Sir
John's collections those two queers are putting on, ruin your sexpot's telly
broadcasts. Or."

Long pause. "Or?"

"Or you and I can enlarge our mutual perceptions,
Lovejoy."

"Any particular time?" I asked that beautiful headband.

"Eight-thirty sharp?" she said into my eyes.

I saw her car off, with enthusiasm, and went indoors. Enid
sat-knelt waiting. She'd even found a saucer among the shambles, clever girl.

"Enid," I said. "I need a quiet house. Just for a
few days. To restore the, er, spirit energies."

She rose. "Yes,
Magist
. . .
Lovejoy." She hadn't got the tea right, but you can't have everything. I
listened as she phoned.

"Evadne? Magister is to confer the blessing of his presence
on us." Pause. "Where will you leave the key?"

God, but her tea was the pits. I rearranged my expression to
spirituality in time for Enid's news. "Evadne's home will be honored,
Lovejoy. Her husband is at sea, currently off Durban."

A
clipclopping
sounded in the side lane.
I thought, it can't be. "Evadne? One of your, er. . . ?"

"You spared her in the wood, Magister."

"So I did." The horse-hooves clopped closer. Mrs. Ryan.
There's no stopping some folk.

"Will we leave now, Lovejoy?"

I closed my eyes an instant, made a mysterious magic pass, quite
convincing considering the circumstances. Maybe Evadne was the curvy blond one.

"Yes, love," I decided. "Bad karma here."

I slammed a bewildered Toffee into her
trug
,
grabbed Enid, and ran for it.