thoughtful as she walked back to Cavelli’s, trying to reconcile the contradictions that danced in her mind. She’d perceived Roscoe Havering as an older man, certainly in his forties, but if David’s facts were correct he was only thirty-nine.
It was his demeanour that had misled her, she realised. Physically, he was still youngish, with dark brown hair that showed no hint of grey or thinning. His face was lean, not precisely handsome but intelligent and interesting. It might even have been charming but for a mysterious look of heaviness.
Heaviness. That was it. He seemed worn down by dead weights that he’d carried so long they were part of him. They aged him cruelly, but not permanently. Sometimes she’d surprised a gleam of humour in his eyes that hinted at another man, one it might be intriguing to know.
She quickened her steps, suddenly eager to talk to him again, wondering if he would still be there. He might have walked out. Or perhaps he was calling David to complain about her.
But as soon as she went in she saw him sitting where she’d left him, staring into space, seemingly full of silent sadness. Her heart was touched, despite her efforts to prevent it.
Control, warned her inner voice. Stay impartial. His outrageous request must be considered objectively.
How?
She approached quietly and pulled out a chair facing him. He looked up in surprise.
‘I’m sorry I stormed out like that,’ she said. ‘Sometimes I get into a temper. Shocking loss of objectivity, especially in a lawyer. A wise man wouldn’t want to employ me.’
‘There’s such a thing as being too wise,’ Roscoe said gently. ‘I’m sorry, too. I never meant to offend you. I expressed myself badly, and you were naturally upset.’
‘You didn’t express yourself badly. You laid out your requirements for your employee, making yourself plain on all counts, so that I’d understand everything before committing myself. That was very proper.’
He winced. ‘I wish you wouldn’t talk like that.’
‘I’m merely trying to be professional.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘It’s just not very nice to have people thinking I’m a tart. It’s even worse when that’s my chief qualification for a job.’
‘I never said that,’ he disclaimed hurriedly. ‘Nor did I mean it. But you do seem to have the ability to love ‘em and leave ‘em.’
‘Oh, I believe in leaving ‘em. I just manage without the love ‘em bit.’
‘That’s what I want. You can cope with Charlie better than a more naive girl would. You could handle him, keep him in order, make him see things your way. What’s funny?’ Her sudden chuckle had disconcerted him.
‘You are,’ she said. ‘You’re making such a mess of this. What you really want is a heartless woman who can take care of herself, and you’re tying yourself in knots trying to say so without actually saying the words. No, no—’ she held up a hand to silence his denial ‘—we’ve covered that ground. Let it go.’
‘Will you help me?’ he asked slowly.
‘If I can, but things may not work out as you plan. You’ve assumed that he’ll take one look at me and collapse with adoration. Suppose he doesn’t? ‘
‘I think that would be a really new experience for you,’ he said, trying to sound casual.
‘Not at all. The world is full of men who are indifferent to my charms.’
‘You just haven’t met them yet.’
‘I’ve met plenty.’
‘Splendid! Then you’ll know what to do. Just use whatever methods you normally use to overcome their resistance.’
Her lips twitched. ‘I could take that as another insult.’
‘Yes, you could—if you were determined to.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘I means that I’ve realised that you can twist everything I say into an insult, and you do it whenever it suits you. So now I’m fighting back.’
‘How?’
‘By refusing to let you bully me,’ he said firmly. ‘I am not going to cower and watch every word in case you misunderstand. You don’t actually misunderstand anything. You know I don’t really mean to insult you, so don’t try to score points off me. I don’t want you to seduce Charlie. I want you to beguile him, make his head spin until he’ll follow your lead. You’ll do a good job and I’ll respect you for it. And if we fight, we fight openly. Agreed?’
There was a definite no-nonsense tone to his voice, making it clear that he meant every word. He was putting his foot down, asserting himself, warning her not to mess with him—all the powerful, dominant things that she had instinctively associated with him.
And yet—and yet—
Far back in his eyes, that look was there again—a gleam that might have been conspiratorial humour.
Or perhaps not.
After a moment Pippa held out her hand to him. ‘Agreed.’
They shook. She took out a notebook and spoke formally. ‘I need to know as much about the gang he’s running around with as you can tell me.’
‘They’re all young people who seem to live on the edge of the law. They don’t even have proper addresses. They squat, which means they move on a lot as they get caught. I don’t know for a fact that they steal, but they don’t have any regular source of income. Charlie definitely gives Ginevra money. They live from hand to mouth, which he finds exciting. Here. That’s the two of them together.’
From an inner pocket he took out a photograph that seemed to have been taken in a crowded room, probably a squat. In the centre, a young couple lay back in each other’s arms.
‘He keeps that as a treasured souvenir,’ Roscoe observed curtly. ‘I wanted you to see it, so I stole it from him.’
‘Good for you,’ Pippa murmured. Studying the picture, she felt a rising tide of excitement. ‘Yes, now I begin to understand. She’s up to her old tricks.’
‘You know her?’ Roscoe demanded, startled.
‘Yes, and her name’s not Ginevra, it’s Biddy Felsom. I suppose she thought the new name sounded more glamorous. Her hobby is teasing the lads to do daft things to win her favour. She’s done a lot of damage in her time. What’s the matter? ‘
The question was surprised from her by the sight of Roscoe’s face, filled with shock and dismay as he stared over her shoulder. The next moment she heard, above her head, the petulant voice of a young man.
‘So there you are, Roscoe. Hiding from me, I suppose. You must have known I’d be over here as soon as I found out what you were up to.’
‘Charlie—’
‘Well, you
