‘Someone thinks so,’ replied Sasha under her breath. ‘Between you and me, halfway through I wished I had a bag of Frazzles I could quietly flick at her.’
The guy held her gaze, still beaming broadly.
‘I’m Ralph,’ he said, and shook her hand. ‘It’s been eight weeks since I last ate meat, and the whole bacon thing is driving me to distraction.’
‘The crack cocaine of the meat industry,’ agreed Sasha. ‘What turned you?’
‘It felt like something I wanted to do,’ he said simply. ‘But I know what you mean about the whole food fascism thing. Every time I hear someone like Amanda preach that meat is murder I want to go out and buy a burger. I just don’t understand why being vegetarian makes you any better than anyone else. What’s with the big statements? It’s just a choice, in a free society. I think so long as you know where your food’s coming from, and you’re happy with that, then you should be able to live your life without being judged. How about you?’
Sasha found herself listening so closely to what Ralph had to say that a moment passed before she registered her question.
‘Me? Oh, I’m just going without meat for a while. I just want to see what it’s like.’
‘And how is it going?’
Across the floor, Jack Greenway had finally muscled into a conversation between Amanda Dias and the alcoholic cook. He was nodding furiously, switching his attention from one to the other, but mostly returning to Amanda. Sasha looked back at Ralph. He was next in line to be served.
‘I’ve surprised myself so far,’ she said. ‘But it’s good to know I’m not alone in facing moments of temptation.’
Ralph seemed a little taken aback at this. Then that smile returned, before he turned to face the table. It left Sasha wondering whether she’d just said something, and then realised that she had. Before she could find a way to explain that she hadn’t just tried to score on him, Ralph moved aside for her.
‘Some of this stuff looks good,’ he said, and then dipped down to find her ear. ‘And a lot of it looks like squirrel bait.’
Giggling, and with her cheeks still hot, Sasha decided to say nothing. Instead, she picked off a slice of the bake for Jack, skipping one for herself, and then collected two plastic cups of cola.
‘Are these drinks vegan?’ she asked him.
Ralph shrugged.
‘Even if they aren’t,’ he said under his breath. ‘It can be our secret if you like.’
Vernon English had slumped so far down in the driving seat that he could no longer see over the dash. He’d done so on purpose, just as soon as Titus Savage strode into view. Waiting for his target to cross the street in front of the vehicle, on his way to the lobby in the building opposite, the private investigator couldn’t help noticing that the lower half of the steering wheel was mottled with his greasy fingerprints
‘That’s it,’ he said to himself. ‘No more chips in the van.’
Vernon had been expecting Titus. Having tailed the man for weeks now, and with an ear inside his house, he knew that today would see the takeover completed. It was all over for the company who had hired Vernon. Sure, he could’ve presented them with some evidence that Titus had engaged in corporate crimes, but what would that achieve? The company would call in the cops, and if the Savage house hid secrets about Lulabelle Hart then Vernon would just be a footnote in the story of his arrest. By staying quiet as Titus broke up the company and sold it off, the private investigator would be sacrificing his full fee. What persuaded him to just keep on the man’s tail was the belief that one day soon they would both be making headlines. While photographers tried to snatch a shot of Titus through the window of a speeding police van, Vernon would be giving lengthy interviews to the broadsheets about how his intuition and persistence had paid off.
‘There’s blood on your hands,’ he said, grunting as he sat up in the seat. Across the street, Titus had entered the lobby. He was there as the company’s new boss. The lion had arrived at his new den, and Vernon knew just what would happen next. The man wasn’t there to save the business but carve it up and toss out the parts for profit. Vernon had seen it all before. Normally, these guys, the asset strippers, were cold-hearted individuals. Some even got a kick from the misery they caused. Titus was different, however. At home, he made every effort to spend time with Angelica and their children. Through Vernon’s eyes, and with his suspicions, there was something about the guy that he was missing. Somewhere, a link existed between the beast in the boardroom and the father who put family first.
The first of the staff to be given immediate notice left about an hour later. Vernon watched them exit, some clutching boxes with their personal effects, others looking shell-shocked and tearful. How could anyone do such a thing, simply to make money? He could just imagine Titus picking off members of the workforce without a trace of emotion. Once he’d got the numbers down to the bone, he’d have them sell off the company bit by little bit. Eventually, there would be nothing but a skeleton plus a fattened bank account, and that’s when he’d move on – setting his sights on another corporate kill.
Towards lunchtime, Vernon was surprised to see Angelica making her way towards the building. She was wearing a pair of large sunglasses, despite the fact that the sky was overcast. A straw tote bag swung from the crook of her arm. Vernon squinted to see what was peeking from the top. A baguette and a bottle of champagne, he realised, before pulling the peak of his cap low in case she happened to glance in his direction.
‘So, your husband ruins lives one morning, and you show up with a celebratory picnic?’
Vernon shook his head, struggling with the insensitivity of what he was seeing here. Titus and Angelica were one of a kind. Even in the privacy of their home, food came first. It’s all he’d heard the pair talk about, but there just had to be more to them than that. Vernon watched Angelica make her way up the steps outside the building, and suddenly realised that he was following the wrong people.
If Vernon English was going to uncover the truth about Lulabelle, then he’d need to find a different way into the family. The private investigator twisted the key in the ignition, and again when the engine failed to start. Titus and Angelica were clearly too wise and experienced at covering themselves, but he felt sure the same couldn’t be said for their kids.
18
Ivan Savage enjoyed a game of chess. What he loathed was losing. That wasn’t why he joined the school club. He was there to prove his sense of strategy and logic was close to perfection. On those occasions when his opponents began to tighten in on his queen, he would turn to rules of his own in a bid to avoid checkmate.
‘Prepare for a butt kicking,’ crowed Ali Kaar, leaning on his elbows as he studied the board. ‘Whenever you want to make your move, I’m ready!’
Ivan watched him closely. He didn’t once glance down to consider his position. He barely moved, in fact, but for a tensing in his jaw muscles as he ground his molars together.
‘I need to think about this,’ he said eventually.
‘Take your time.’ Ali pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. ‘I need a leak anyhow.’
They had been playing for several hours. Ivan had opted for an aggressive strategy, but that left him with only one back-up plan when Ali pulled several surprise moves. This took the form of a jug of water and two cups. Ivan always made sure that they were in easy reach before he sat down to play. Then it was his turn to go for something unexpected. This involved refilling his opponent’s cup on a regular basis, knowing that he would have to answer the call of nature eventually. As soon as Ali left the table for the toilet, Ivan popped open his schoolbag and carefully fished out a small wooden box. It contained a complete set of both black and white pieces, identical to those used by the school chess club, as well as a thin metal mesh glove. First making sure that everybody else was engrossed in their own games, Ivan slipped the glove on and then set about replacing his opponent’s pieces. He’d done this many times over, which meant he had easily completed the manoeuvre before Ali returned. Finally, when the boy dropped back into his seat, Ivan moved one of his pieces.