Free Les Norton and the Case of the Talking Pie Crust by Robert G. Barrett Page B

unexpected pitfalls. Show caution. And use your inner strength. The time could come when you may have to dig deep. Very deep.’ Rose smiled and put the cards back in the pack. ‘So that’s it, Les. Good luck. You’re a nice man.’
    ‘Thanks, Rose.’ Les pulled fifty dollars off his roll and gave it to her. ‘Here Rose,’ he smiled. ‘Take that for me being a bit of dill earlier.’
    ‘You’re no dill, Les,’ replied Rose, pocketing the money. ‘And thank you very much. Come back and tell me what happened. I’m interested.’
    ‘I’ll do that. Goodbye. And thanks again, Rose.’
    ‘My pleasure.’
    A blonde girl in a thick red shirt and jeans had been waiting patiently. Les stood up and moved the chair around. ‘There you go,’ he smiled. ‘I warmed the seat for you.’
    The girl returned Norton’s smile.
    ‘Thank you,’ she said.
    The girl sat down and Rose straightened her glasses. Norton left the markets and walked straight home.
    Back inside the house, Les made a mug of herb tea and took it into the loungeroom, leaving the TV and stereo off, preferring to sit in silence. Oh shit, thought Les, as he pensively sipped his hot tea. I’m not rapt in those things. That bloody Rainbow Princess read my runes or something in Cairns and I nearly got eaten by a giant cat, or whatever it was. That wasn’t much fun, I can tell you. Les reflected on the blank TV screen and took another sip of tea. But Rose’s was different. Itwas a tarot. It was definitely a bit spooky how she sniffed out those deaths around me and how I was looking for something for someone. But everything else she told me was quite positive. Just watch myself and I’d finish up with the goodies. I’ll do quite well. She also said someone would be offering me help and I should listen to them. Les took a slow sip of tea. That could be Deep Throat. Hey. Maybe Deep Throat secretly wanted me to have a tarot reading? Maybe it was all in the cards? Like the joker in the pack. Rose also said I might have to open many strange doors. That makes sense if I’m sneaking around looking for something. And I can’t go quietly opening doors with a pair of Doc Martens. For doors you need a key. And, smiled Les, I know just the bloke who can arrange one. Les walked over, picked up the house phone and dialled.
    ‘Hello?’
    ‘Hello, Eddie. It’s Les.’
    ‘Les. How are you, mate?’
    ‘All right. Heaps better than I was.’
    ‘Price said you’ll be back next week some time.’
    ‘Probably. Hey, that was a nice photo in the paper today.’
    ‘Yeah,’ said Eddie. ‘I just got out of the road in time.’
    ‘Jesus, he cleaned up.’
    ‘Almost two million. It was the sting of the century.’
    ‘It sure was.’
    ‘So what can I do for you, mate?’
    Knowing Eddie disliked talking on the phone, Les got to the point. ‘Eddie, I’m looking for something and I need a key. That mate of yours at Rose Bay still in business?’
    ‘He’s still in business,’ said Eddie. ‘But he’s moved up to Long Jetty on the Central Coast, to be near his family.’
    ‘The Central Coast. That’s all right. I can take a run up.’ The Wile E. Coyote light bulb above Norton’s head suddenly came on. ‘Hey. I might even stay there a couple of nights. Give myself a break from all this noise and pollution. It’s not bad up there.’
    ‘In that case,’ said Eddie. ‘I might be able to do you another favour.’
    ‘You can?’
    ‘Yeah. An old mate of mine’s running a big holiday apartment thing at Terrigal. He owes me a favour. I’ll see if can I organise a couple of nights for you on the house.’
    Les was chuffed. ‘Unreal.’
    ‘I’ll ring you back in ten minutes.’
    Eddie hung up and Les kicked back in the lounge. Well, this is all right, he smiled. I get my master key and a nice little holiday at the same time. I like Terrigal, and being able to do my own thing up there will be absolutely delightful. Les finished his mug of tea and the second ten