Two Faced Woman. Lucy Gordon

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      “I— Now wait! You approached me in the lobby, not the other way around. There were no names. You just assumed—on no evidence whatever—that I was Speke.”

      “Not ‘on no evidence.’ There was the way you looked at me, raising your eyebrows.”

       “Raising—”

      “As if you were asking me if I was the right person.”

      “I was asking if you were the right person. But you weren’t.”

      “How was I supposed to know that? And then there was your car. It’s a rich man’s car.”

      “No need to tell me that. I live in poverty just to keep up the repayments.”

      “You’re not too poor to afford handmade shoes.”

      “I have bad feet,” he said through gritted teeth. “I need handmade shoes. So that’s enough to convict me of blackmail, is it? I wish I could sit through one of your cases in court. It must be interesting.”

      “You played along,” she said indignantly. “You didn’t use any names, either, and you didn’t try to stop me stripping off.”

      “I was fascinated to know how far you were ready to go.”

      “Oh, yes?”

      “And I was riveted by the performance, I don’t deny. You have some very special skills there. In fact...” He stopped and looked at her speculatively. “Very special,” he repeated slowly. “So special, in fact, that you might be the one woman I need.”

      “What are you talking about?”

      “Let’s assume that you really are ex-policewoman Debbie Harker. I’m not convinced but I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

      “You’re so kind,” she murmured ironically.

      “Once you worked on the side of the law, but who knows whose side you’re on now?”

      “Hey—”

      “Let’s say that you’ve had no success as a P.I.—a reasonable assumption after today’s fiasco. Let’s say that you’re desperate, that you’ll take any job without asking too many questions.”

      “No, let’s not say that,” she said angrily. “Because it isn’t true.”

      “So you claim. But suppose you were sent here by Lucky Driver, who maybe suspected that his girlfriend might be about to rat on him? Your job was to distract me so that she never got the chance to talk.”

      “Rubbish,” Debbie said trenchantly. “If he thought that, it would be simpler for him to prevent her coming here at all. You don’t believe a word you’ve just said.”

      “You miss the point, Miss Harker. I could choose to believe it, thus giving myself an excuse to dump you in the cells. Couldn’t I?”

      “If you want to be unpleasant about this, yes.”

      “But I am unpleasant,” he informed her affably. “Ask around. You won’t find anyone with a good word to say for me. And I don’t just mean the crooks.”

      “I believe it.”

      “So the question is, what are you going to do to convince me that you’re on the side of the angels?”

      “Sock you in the jaw,” she said darkly.

      He grinned. “Don’t try it. You caught me by surprise with that rugby tackle, but I’m on guard now. You wrecked a good case, but I’m going to be reasonable about it because you can be useful to me.”

      “Suppose I don’t want to be useful to you?” she demanded crossly.

      “Let’s say it’s in your own interests to convince me that you’re who and what you say you are.”

      His eyes were hard and uncompromising. Debbie faced him defiantly, but she knew that he held the high cards. “So how am I going to be useful?”

      “I need a woman to work undercover with me.”

      “There are plenty of policewomen for that.”

      “None who are suitable. This job requires special skills, the kind you’ve proved you have in abundance. Do you know Lucky’s Place?”

      “I’ve heard of it. It’s a nightclub. Very glitzy and expensive.”

      “It’s also a gambling establishment where a great deal of money gets lost and won. The perfect laundering setup for drug money, and probably a drug distribution center.”

      “Is that how it’s being used?”

      “I’m sure of it. The key lies with the man who owns and runs it, Abel Driver, known to his friends and enemies as ‘Lucky.’ He’s a crook who uses the nightclub as a cover for crime, but proving it is another matter. I plan to get a job on the inside, but that’s not enough. Lucky has a weakness for women. You can get closer to him than I ever could. It’s no use hoping for anything from Liz. She’ll be on the run by now, if she’s got any sense.”

      “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

      “I don’t think so. What?”

      “My professional pride.”

      “Your what?” he asked hilariously.

      “My professional pride,” she repeated through gritted teeth. “I happen to be on a case at the moment. You may think it’s just a big joke—”

      “If you conduct them all as you did today I think I’ll die laughing,” he retorted without any sign of amusement whatsoever.

      She resisted the temptation to toss her drink over him. “I’m on a case,” she repeated. “I can’t undertake another job until Elroy Speke is stopped.”

      “Are you out of your mind? You’ve blown your own case as thoroughly as you’ve blown mine.”

      “Then you’ll have to help me with him, won’t you?”

      “What? Do you think I’ve got nothing better to do than pick up the pieces after your mistakes?”

      “Not at the moment you haven’t, because without my help you can’t pursue Lucky Driver.”

      “And I’m going to have your help—if you know what’s good for you.”

      Debbie gave him a sudden mischievous smile that brought a tremor of remembered enchantment to his loins and a scowl to his face. “Oh, I’ll help you, Detective Inspector,” she declared with a theatrical emphasis that warned him something was coming. “At least, I’ll do my very best. But I can’t promise how good my best will be when I’m so worried about Elroy Speke and my poor client...”

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