Mixing With Murder Read Online Free PDF Page B

place and how long had she been there before she ran off? He tells you she’s not a native Londoner but comes from Oxford. She talks posh and he thinks went to a good school. What’s she doing performing for the sad old gits and grubby little pervs who frequent that club? What brought her down to London in the first place? I know he says he never employs runaways, but this sounds to me suspiciously like just that.’
     
    ‘He says she’s my age, twenty-two,’ I countered.
     
    ‘He’s not going to tell you she’s sixteen, is he?’ snapped Ganesh.
     
    ‘Mickey’s not a fool. If she was sixteen he wouldn’t go chasing after her - or send me. Too tricky. I’ve got a photo.’ I extricated the glossy Mickey had given me and handed it to Ganesh.
     
    Ganesh studied it, cowboy hat, rhinestones, mauve eyeshadow and all. ‘She looks about twenty-two,’ he admitted grudgingly. ‘Not that you can tell underneath all that muck on her face. But why does he want her back? Yes, I know he’s setting up in Europe and he wants her to work in Spain for him, or so he says. That sounds like a story he thought up on the spur of the moment to me. If it’s the truth, why didn’t he tell her when she was there in London, working for him? Did he offer her the job and did she turn it down? Why did she turn it down? Why did she run off back to Oxford without a word to Mickey? If she’d been working there for a while, what was it suddenly made her think she couldn’t stand it any longer? Was there a row? As a story it’s got more holes than a sieve.’
     
    He drained his coffee mug. ‘And how does he have her home address? Even if she told a fellow dancer she was going home, she’d be crazy to let the other girl know her parents’ address. She’d be crazy to tell the other girl what she meant to do, anyway. I don’t believe it. I don’t believe she did tell this other girl she meant to go home. If she was running away without telling Mickey, she wouldn’t tell anyone who worked for him, either. Would you? Think about it.’
     
    He was right, of course. ‘Perhaps he has her parents’ address because he needed to have the name of next of kin? You know, something to do with insurance?’ It was a feeble attempt at explanation but I couldn’t think of anything better.
     
    ‘Oh?’ said Ganesh sarcastically. ‘What insurance would this be? In case she fell off the stage and broke her neck?’
     
    The carpet beneath our feet quivered from a series of hefty blows from below. Hari was banging on the shop ceiling with a broom handle, a signal that he needed Ganesh downstairs.
     
    ‘I’ve got to go,’ said Ganesh, getting to his feet. ‘I suppose you’ll go to Oxford because you’re worried about Bonnie. But the girl might not be there. The only explanation I can think of as to why she told someone she was going home, if she did, is that she was laying a false trail. That does make sense to me. Even if she is in Oxford, you might not find her straight away.’
     
    ‘Mickey’s fixed up a Band B for me,’ I said gloomily. ‘It’s run by some former employee of his.’
     
    ‘Thinks of everything, Mickey Allerton, doesn’t he?’ growled Ganesh. ‘He hasn’t given you a street plan of Oxford, I suppose? How are you going to find your way about?’
     
    ‘I’ll get one at the station when I arrive.’
     
    He frowned. ‘Hari might have one. Hang on, I’ll look.’
     
    I followed him to the battered roll-top desk in the corner of the room. ‘Why would Hari have a street plan of Oxford? Has he ever been to Oxford?’
     
    ‘I don’t know,’ said Ganesh. ‘But you know Hari. He keeps everything, just in case it turns out to be useful one day. We’ve loads of junk around the place with zero chance of any of it being useful. He’s like a perishing squirrel. He’s got dozens of street plans. I don’t know where they all came from.’
     
    He burrowed in the desk and from a pigeon-hole dragged a pack of