Free Dead Point by Peter Temple Page A

business suit.
    ‘Mr Taub will check the installation when he gets back,’ I said. ‘This is Boz Bylsma, who did the hard work today.’
    Mrs Purbrick was walking around the room touching the woodwork. Her eyes flicked to Boz, summed her up, nodded. She stopped, put her head back and shouted, ‘D
aavii
d.’
    David appeared. He had clearly been waiting in the passage. He looked around the room. ‘Marvellous,’ he said. ‘Quite marvellous. In exquisite taste.’ He tugged at an earlobe. ‘An island of good taste.’
    Mrs Purbrick fixed him with her gaze. ‘I want the books in by the end of tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Is that clear, darling?’
    ‘Clear? What could be clearer? Any preferences?Leatherbound Mills & Boon? Collected works of Danielle Steel? I believe there’s a special on Jeffrey Archer.’
    ‘Use your
exquisite
taste,’ Mrs Purbrick said. With difficulty, she raised her eyebrows and showed her top teeth. The teeth were perfect. Some cosmetic dentist probably lay warm and slack beside a pool in Tuscany on the proceeds of that achievement.
    ‘How I wish that that were a standing instruction,’ said David, not quite tossing his head.
    Mrs Purbrick tried to narrow her eyes at him. ‘On your way, you dear little man.’
    ‘Well, that’s it from us,’ I said. ‘On behalf of Mr Taub, I wish you well to use this library.’
    Mrs Purbrick came over to me, came close, the torpedoes prodding my bottom ribs, put a short-fingered hand on my cheek. ‘You are so old-fashioned and courteous, I can’t believe men like you still exist.’
    I caught the eyes of Boz, we were even-height, eyes level, some distance above Mrs Purbrick. She was expressionless, then she blinked, just a blink.
    ‘Frozen in time,’ I said.
    Mrs Purbrick moved her hand down to my chest, traced a circle with a stubby finger. ‘I’m going to have to have people for drinks to show off the library, make them envious. You’ll be getting an invitation, you and Mr Taub. Nothing fancy, just drinkies after five. Mike and Ros Cundall will be coming. I’m sure you know them.’
    ‘Not in the flesh, no.’
    ‘Lovely people. And I’m sure they need a library. God knows, they’ve got everything else. I was at Sam’s birthday party a few weeks ago, that’s the son and heir, charming young man. In the recreation wing. Wing, mark you, it’s like a resort, two bars, the pool, billiard tables, gymnasium, sauna. And then there’s this games room – electronic shooting things, old pinball machines, you name it, my dear.’
    ‘A library would certainly complete the facilities,’ I said. ‘I look forward to receiving your invitation.’
    Mrs Purbrick saw us to the side door. On the way, she ran a hand over my buttocks, no more than an appraisal, the touch a trainer might give a horse’s rump at the sales. It had been a while since anyone had done that to me.
    ‘You will come for drinks, won’t you, Jack?’
    ‘It’ll require legislation to keep me away.’
    ‘And make sure the darling Mr Taub comes.’
    Going back across the river, the empty van bouncing and squeaking, I studied Boz’s forearms. Long, sinews showing, just a sheen of pale hair.
    ‘So,’ she said. ‘Hangin out with the rich and famous. I was on a film set where Sam Cundall was big-notin himself.’
    ‘In films too, is he?’
    ‘Had money in it. Just for tax. And the possibility of sex. Dud film.’
    ‘I haven’t been to drinks for years,’ I said. ‘I’ll haveto go if the invite comes through. Charlie could use another library job.’
    Boz gave me an unbelieving look. ‘What about this Cannon Ridge business?’ she said. ‘Reckon it’s bent?’
    We talked about the politics of the state. She had no respect for anyone. Outside Charlie’s, she said, not looking at me, ‘That was quick. Short-time. What d’ya reckon?’
    ‘The deal’s the deal.’
    She looked at me, left hand went over her stubble. ‘No. Make me a lesser offer.’
    I thought about it.