Paparazzi, Jo Fenton [books under 200 pages .txt] 📗

“I’ll get them. What do you want?”

I swallow hard as I get to the bar. It shouldn’t be difficult ordering the required two diet cokes, but my mouth is dry. There’s no reason anyone here should know me as Becky Wiseman, Detective Inspector from South Manchester. I’m just a stranger in a bar.

It’s no actual surprise that I buy the cokes without incident, and I relax slightly as I sit down, positioning myself carefully with my back to the wall where I can survey the surrounding scene.

“Thanks. Cheers.” Joanna holds up the drink, and I clink glasses with her. “You do it automatically, don’t you?”

“What?”

“Observe. You’re a natural detective. You can’t help yourself.”

“It’s complicated. Not a story for today, and definitely not for here.”

“Okay. Fair enough. So what do you think? I know you’ve been thinking about it. You wouldn’t have phoned me otherwise.”

“It’s been difficult. I know you said nothing happened with Matt in London, but why would he have a heart attack on seeing you? It doesn’t make sense.”

“You’re absolutely right. It makes no sense at all. But that’s what happened.” She looks down at the table and then glances around. There’s no one remotely within earshot. “Look. I admit there’s something else, but I’m bound by law not to tell a soul about it.”

I stare at her. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. I swear to you on my life, and the life of my son, that I didn’t have an affair, or a fling, or anything remotely inappropriate, with your husband. It’s just this weird thing – a kind of work situation – that I’m not allowed to talk about.”

“But why would seeing you cause Matt to have a heart attack?” I shake my head, totally confused by what she’s said.

“Well, there was a bit of a mess, and it was my fault, and maybe Matt thought it had caught up with us, and that I was coming to warn him. But neither of us knew anything about the other’s home life or anything. We were virtually strangers except for this… project thing. Please, Becky, believe me. You and I were best friends for over two years. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“But you won’t tell me the whole truth.”

“I’ve already told you more than I should, and as much as I dare to.” Her earnest expression finally convinces me, even if it doesn’t solve the mystery. Matt’s comment about me being a housewife still rankles, and I feel the need to do something about it. If trusting Joanna will give me that chance, perhaps I can give it a shot.

“Okay. Let’s put it behind us. Why do you want to start up a detective agency?”

“I need to earn a living. I think it would be fascinating, and it could be fun.”

“Fun?”

“Yeah. I’m not talking about taking on murder cases. Those are for the police. If anything like that happens (God forbid), we can liaise with your old pals. I assume you didn’t cut off all contact?”

“I still have a few phone numbers in a book at home.” And in my head. And a couple on my phone. Just their private numbers though. Finn (my best friend), and Wendy (my friend and mentor from all those years ago when I was a student). My insides lurch a few millimetres at the thought of Finn. I haven’t spoken to him in over six months.

Joanna’s speaking again, so I force myself to concentrate.

“Great. I think we should advertise discreetly. I’ve drawn up a few ideas.” She fishes a folded piece of A4 paper out of her bag, and spreads it out in front of me. In the bottom right is a text box that catches my eye.

WHITE KNIGHT DETECTIVE AGENCY

Do you have a problem?

Do you need a white knight to come to your rescue?

Phone xxxxxx for details.

I point at it. “That looks quite good. Advertising isn’t cheap though. Where were you thinking of putting it?”

“I think we can set up a Facebook page and Twitter account for free, and start growing those. And we can advertise cheaply in the local press.” She writes down some figures for the advertising. They look affordable, even on my budget.

“Okay. We need to get something clear, though.”

“What?” Joanna looks at me cautiously. “Obviously we split any proceeds fifty-fifty.”

“I guess there are a couple of things. First, I’m going to be more of an indoor detective. I’m happy to do any amount of research on a computer. You’ll meet the client initially, but I’ll watch on CCTV. If I think it’s safe for me to meet them, then I’ll join you part-way through. If I don’t appear, it’s because I have a good reason.”

“And the second thing?”

“Please stay away from Matt.” I hold up my hand as she protests. “Look, I know you’re innocent from your perspective. But for whatever reason, you increase his stress levels, and he needs to stay calm. So, please give him some space to recover.”

“Sure. Both things are fine. We can use my mobile number for the time being, and I’ll filter all the calls. Then I guess we’ll see them when I get a house. I’m going to work part-time at Asda. They’ve agreed I can do twenty-five hours a week on the checkouts. It’ll pay the rent until the clients flood in.”

“That’s sensible. I could do with finding something to do as well. But it would have to be something where I don’t need to leave the house.”

“Do students still need dissertations typing up these days?”

“I think they mostly write them straight on to the computer. They couldn’t afford me anyway.” I give a tired smile. Suddenly, I feel exhausted. “I need to get home. I’ll find something to bring in a few pennies while we wait for those clients. Are you going to put the ad in the paper?”

“Yeah, I’ll sort it this afternoon. Leave it to me.”

She grins. White Knight is open for business.

Chapter Seven

Back at home, Matt’s upstairs having a nap. I