‘Why don’t we forget about the Pinkertons for the time being?’
‘After what the girl in Lampeter said? She practically confirmed it. Absalom was trying to find the granddaughter of Etta Place and Sundance. In Aberystwyth! How can you say just forget about it?’
‘Please give it a rest. This isn’t their case, it’s ours; and despite the generous measure of autonomy I give you, I’m still the boss.’
She opened her mouth to protest but saw my expression and thought better of it.
Eeyore turned up a few minutes later and seeing the look of pain on my face, asked, ‘What’s up?’
Calamity, misunderstanding, said, ‘We’ve got a Pieman.’
‘What’s that?’ he said and so she explained.
‘I don’t think I’ve heard of one of those before,’ said Eeyore.
‘That’s because they’re pretty rare,’ said Calamity. ‘We have to proceed with great subtlety; otherwise you can frighten the Pieman off. The best way to handle a Pieman—’
‘The best way is to walk right up there and kick his ass,’ I said.
‘Don’t be crazy!’ said Calamity. ‘Do that and you’ll ruin everything. You’ll spook Hoffmann and then we’ll never find out who . . .’ The words petered out.
‘Who what?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Who what?’
‘Who . . . who Hoffmann is.’
‘I know what you were going to say. You were going to say “Butch Cassidy” or “Sundance” or something.’
‘I wasn’t.’
‘You were. I thought I told you not to mention the Pinkertons again, but all I’ve heard from you on this case is Butch Cassidy this and Sundance that.’
‘Louie, that’s not true.’
‘You just couldn’t do it, could you?’ I was still upset about Llunos and the Queen of Denmark. But as so often in life it is someone else who pays the bill. This time Calamity.
‘Louie, I—’
‘You just wouldn’t listen. You had to go on and on. Well, let me tell you something. When you set up your own outfit you can be associate partners with whoever you want, but for the time being it says “Louie Knight” on the door and the only associate partner we’ve got is Captain Morgan. I’m sorry if it cramps your style, but those are the rules and if you don’t like them you can always walk away.’
‘Right,’ said Calamity. She looked at me, mouth clenched tightly, eyes smarting with the beginning of tears. ‘Right, then, I will.’
We watched her walk up the Prom towards the office and Sospan said, ‘Don’t worry, Louie, things will be better around here once he comes.’
I said nothing and then, as the import of his words made an impression, asked ‘Who?’
‘Our redeemer.’
I looked at him with a mixture of disbelief and anger. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘When he comes to redeem us.’
‘Who’s going to do that?
‘Who do you think?’ Sospan shrugged slightly as if to disassociate himself from the words. ‘That’s what people are saying, isn’t it? He who is coming to save us. . . . Hoffmann.’
‘Hoffmann?’
‘It means Hopeman in German, you see. That’s what folk are saying. They’ve worked it out. It’s a message to us. He’s coming.’
‘Hoffmann’s coming?’
‘He’s going to redeem us, Louie. Hopeman. Everything is going to be all right.’
Chapter 13
TINKER, TAILOR, Patagonian sailor, ex-Nazi . . . Hoffmann. He’s coming to save the townspeople. Hopeman. A false prophet, cut-price Messiah . . . the man they send when the town clock forgets to tick.
The people who sit on my client’s chair, who are they?
In books the first thing the PI says is ‘I don’t do divorce stuff.’ But that isn’t right. Does the greengrocer say, ‘I don’t do potatoes’?
I’m thinking of changing the name on the door. Pandora Inc. That’s what I’m thinking of calling the place. I’m tired of the Knight Errant nonsense. It gives a false impression. It leads the unwary to believe I might be able to help. Pandora Inc on the frosted glass. That way they’ll know what they’re letting themselves in for. I can find out the truth for you but it won’t set you free.
The people who sit on my client’s chair, why are they there? It’s because everyone wants to run to teacher when things go wrong.
I tell them about two men I once knew. The two men I pity most in all the world. One was Sospan’s friend: a bald chap, a bit on the short side, but he never let that get him down. For a while he was the happiest man alive. Had everything anyone could want, always smiling and waving, the most popular guy in the street; never a care in the world. Then one day it all changed. Cut a tooth and needed to be weaned. They moved him on to solids. Poor guy never recovered. With time you learn to deal with the vicious blows life metes out. But not that one. Ask Sospan, he’ll tell you.
His brothers and sisters didn’t even try to hide their glee at his fall from grace. What? You thought it was going to be like that all along, did you? Welcome to life. First thing you learn, milk isn’t free. You can never really trust anyone after that. You just lie there in the cot trying to work it out. The betrayal. All the time we were doing that ‘never a care in the world’ routine, she must have known. She knew and she never said a word. Wormwood on the nipple. No wonder babies cry so much. And the other guy? Ah, you don’t want to know about him.
We stood stiffly in the early-morning frost, our breath visible like dragon smoke. Above our heads the Pieman’s light burned, a dark orange star; neither of us looked up.
‘Well, I guess this is it,’ Calamity said, the fingers of her small hand, clad in pale-blue fingerless mitts, twitching on the handle of the suitcase. ‘Thanks again for everything.’
‘Nothing to thank me for, it’s . . . it’s been great. I’m sorry you’re going.’
‘I think it’s for the best. I was thinking about the things you said . . . I feel I have to see the Pinkerton thing through; otherwise I might regret it one day.’
She wore a drab military green parka with the hood up; fake grey fur framing her face in a sweet oval.
‘Louie?’
Like a vignette from the old-time photographers who used to be on the Pier.
‘Louie? Are you listening?’
‘Yes. Sorry, I was looking at your hood.’
‘I was saying I could regret it otherwise.’
‘Yes.’
‘You don’t often get a break like this.’
‘No, you don’t. Have you got an office?’
‘I’m using my auntie’s front room in Prospect Street for the time being, until I can find somewhere more permanent.’
‘You don’t want to rush it; the right office makes all the difference.’
‘That’s what I thought. I’ll probably need to talk to the people in LA about it, anyway.’
‘Yes, they’ll have some ideas. What about the anti-glare acetate – do you want to take that?’
‘Don’t you need it?’
‘I’ve managed without for most of my life.’
‘I was thinking it might be smarter to leave it; that way the guy might come back and try and sell me some stuff in the new office. Might be able to get a better look at him this time.’
‘That’s a good idea.’
We stood and stared at each other. Calamity’s fingers still twitched on the suitcase handle. In the sharp early-morning cold her skin glowed and her cheeks were crimson like a carol singer’s in an illustrated Christmas card.
She held out her hand. ‘So long, then.’