Mixing With Murder Read Online Free PDF

folded, in the middle of the sitting room. ‘What now?’
     
    ‘How do you mean, what now?’ I asked defensively.
     
    ‘Something’s wrong. You’ve got a long face and that shifty look that always means you’re in trouble. Out with it. What have you done now?’
     
    When Ganesh lectures me I get annoyed as anyone would. And why should he assume I had done anything? But, as I was saying, I have to admit he’s the voice of wisdom in my life. If I listened to him, as he’s fond of telling me, I wouldn’t have half the problems I wrestle with almost daily. On the other hand, if I listened to Gan, I’d be working behind the counter of a dry-cleaning business. This is Ganesh’s obsession: that the area needs another dry-cleaner’s and he and I could run it. I’ve told him, I don’t like the chemical smell of those places. I don’t like the idea of handling other people’s dirty clothing. I particularly don’t like the idea of running a small business because it’s just so much hard work and you never get any time off.
     
    ‘Look at Hari,’ I say to Ganesh. ‘Look what running this shop has done for him. He’s a nervous wreck. He works all hours and never ever relaxes. Even when the place is closed for trade, he’s sitting over the accounts and scratching his head over the VAT returns.’
     
    But Ganesh always replies that’s just Hari. He and I would do things differently. I don’t believe it.
     
    ‘I’ll make the coffee,’ I said now to gain time, and made for the kitchenette.
     
    Ganesh followed and hovered impatiently in the doorway as I boiled the kettle and spooned out coffee granules.
     
    ‘What’s with the space rocket?’ I enquired.
     
    ‘Don’t ask!’ growled Ganesh. ‘Does he ever listen to me? No, never! Does he listen to some wise guy who turns up persuading him that he’ll make a fortune from a plastic rocket? Oh yes, he’ll listen to him. I’ve had dozens of good ideas for improving business. He’s turned them all down. Then he goes and sticks that - that eyesore right outside.’
     
    ‘It might turn out popular with the kids,’ I offered.
     
    ‘It’s downmarket,’ said Ganesh loftily.
     
    I told him he was a snob. But the rocket was obviously a touchy subject and best avoided.
     
    ‘Well?’ he demanded when we’d got our drinks and retreated to the worn red plush sofa.
     
    I would have to tell him all of it eventually, but I jumped in with both feet and gave him the situation in a nutshell.
     
    ‘Mickey Allerton has kidnapped Bonnie and is holding her hostage.’
     
    ‘Do I look like I’ve got time to listen to your rotten sense of humour?’ retorted Ganesh crossly. ‘Hari will be yelling up the stairs at any moment, wanting me to go back down to work. Get on with it.’
     
    ‘That is it, honest, Gan.’ I explained what had happened that morning.
     
    Ganesh listened, sipping coffee, and then observed, ‘It stinks.’
     
    ‘Yes, it does. I suppose I can trust Harry to look after Bonnie but I don’t trust that Ivo. You should see him, Gan. He’s like an android. And why should Mickey do that to me? It’s a mean, despicable trick.’
     
    ‘I don’t mean the dog,’ Ganesh interrupted.
     
    Ganesh doesn’t share his uncle’s enthusiasm for Bonnie. This is not because he has anything in particular against her but because he mistrusts all dogs. They do tend to bark at him. I tell him it’s because they sense his fear. He says he isn’t afraid of them; he just doesn’t like them, all right?
     
    ‘I mean, the whole story Allerton told you stinks. Don’t have anything to do with it, Fran.’
     
    ‘I’ve got no choice, have I?’ I retorted bitterly.
     
    There was a long silence. I finished my coffee. ‘What in particular strikes you as not being right?’ I asked at last.
     
    ‘None of it’s right,’ said Ganesh firmly. ‘But if you want to take just one point, how did this girl come to work for Mickey Allerton in the first