CHAPTER THREE
It was the arrival of Claudine Dubois that roused Basil, the doorbell setting the dog barking. He was propped up against the basin, peering aghast at the reflection in the mirror, when Lindy came to tell him he had a visitor.
‘What happened?’ he croaked savagely.
‘We had a little party and you were very good and behaved yourself. Now get dressed and come and see your visitor, Miss Dubois. She tells me you sat on her nuts yesterday in her hotel room.’
‘Oh, Christ! I remember now. Old Doc Ramses warned me not to drink on top of the shot he gave me. What got at my moustache?’
‘Don’t worry about the little things; get dressed and I’ll have some coffee waiting for you.’
Downstairs Maria was just seeing off the TV repairman, who was taking away the set, and Claudine Dubois was drinking a cup of coffee.
‘How is he? Poor man, I was so worried about him.’
‘Pah! You should have pushed him out of the window while you had him off balance,’ was Maria’s comment.
‘He’s all right,” Lindy said. “I’m afraid he is back to normal this morning. I think I might try and get Doctor Ramses to give me some of those shots he gave him.’
‘Am I putting my foot in it here?’ Claudine looked from Lindy to Maria. ‘Is there something I should know?’
‘Nothing you won’t find out soon enough. You should be all right if you’re about to hand over money to him.’
‘That’s not cut and dried by any means. I have to find out exactly what happened to the recreation hall.’
‘You’ll have fun doing that!’ Maria snorted as loud curses from upstairs heralded Basil’s arrival.
He was wearing a boiler suit and looked relatively tidy except for his moustache; that resembled a patch of black Velcro. ‘Ah, yes, Miss Dubois, good morning. Ahem, a bit of a late start this morning. Do come through to the lounge, won’t you?’
It was noticeable that he was having considerable difficulty in walking. He patted a chair to indicate where she should sit and then sat down facing her, only to quickly stand once more and look around for an alternative solution. ‘I say, my dear, do you mind if I sort of loll a bit on the sofa. I’m feeling a touch sore this morning. I’m sure you understand.’
‘You poor man. I’m sure it’s most dreadfully painful. I was so worried.’
‘Nothing an old soldier like me can’t handle, my dear.’ God, I could handle you, though, you sympathetic little darling, he mused as he causally scanned the young lady, from her seamed stockings disappearing into her short skirt, up to the look of genuine concern in her innocent eyes.
She studied her dossier. ‘Well, as you know, I have been appointed to investigate your claim for rebuilding your recreation hall after the fire and I need to clarify some points, if I may.’
‘Anything. Anything you need to know, fire away. Ha! If you’ll pardon the expression.’
‘I have your claim form here and some of the passages are not completely clear. Firstly, for the cause of the fire you have entered “Discharge of incendiary weapon to quell insurrection and riot”. Is it possible to explain this more clearly?’
‘Well, let me think now. How can I clarify it? Well, you see, there we were, faced with a gang of rioters sent here by a terrorist organization to carry out rape and pillage at our fête, and I got them on the run, so they holed up in the recreation hall, taking our women folk hostage. I had no choice but to flush them out with our artillery. How’s that?’
