Free Glass Houses by Stella Cameron

offered her money, and she finally agreed.” He smiled as if proud of the proceedings. “It wasn’t easy, but I pulled it off.”
    “And the photographs? She had to have photographs.”
    “They wouldn’t have fitted through the letterbox.”
    Winston’s eyes grew larger. Light glittered on his little lenses. “What letterbox?”
    “The one in her front door. The one she put the negatives through.”
    “But—”
    “She wouldn’t open the door, Winston, for God’s sake. You can’t blame her. She was on her own and didn’t know me from Adam. So she passed those out to me through the letterbox.”
    “And she’s still got photographs?” Winston’s chin made another valiant attempt to jut. “ Photographs, Rupert. The photographs that could land us in jail.”
    “She doesn’t know what she’s got.”
    “That’s not th e sodding point, you moron. What is the point is that she’s got them. What’s to stop her from using them for that magazine?”
    “She took the money for them, that’s what And I told her it was a kill fee.”
    “Oh, yes, oh, of course. In that case she wouldn’t think of using them elsewhere. I feel better now, Rupert.”
    As usual, Winston was blaming him for everything. “Even if she’d given me photographs, how could we know they were the only set?”
    “You were supposed to get in there and search.”
    “I did.”
    “Another balls-up. You didn’t get a thing.”
    “I couldn’t find them. Everything looked the same to me. What did you want me to do, take the lot? Take everything?”
    “Yes, Rupert, that would have been a good idea. Then we could have been sure.” Winston squirmed and his eyes grew more moist. “Phone’s ringing. Don’t answer.”
    Rupert went to the white phone on a tulipwood writing table where sales were conducted and picked up the receiver. “Hello, Rup—”
    “Stuff it, Fish.”
    Kitty. Of all the lousy luck. “Can’t talk now.” Oh, no, he certainly couldn’t talk to his nemesis now.
    “ ’Course you can. You’re avoiding me.”
    “I’m not avoiding you, Kitty. You’re avoiding me. You know where we live, but you don’t choose to go there.”
    “I go there.”
    Winston had set the envelope aside and was waving his arms and gesturing for Rupert to hang up on Kitty.
    “You don’t go there when I’m there.” He loved Kitty in his own way. She was the sexiest woman he’d ever met, and he still didn’t quite believe that she’d ever agreed to become his wife. “I miss you.”
    “No!” Winston said, then covered his mouth when he realized he’d spoken aloud. He passed a forefinger across his throat and bounced.
    “I need money,” Kitty said.
    Rupert pursed his lips.
    “I’ve been watching you, Rupert.” Kitty’s full voice took on a singsong note. “Who is she, lovie?”
    Now his skin cooled and he avoided even glancing at Winston. Kitty knew about Nonie. “You’ve got it wrong,” he said.
    “I followed you to Hampstead."
    “Hampstead?” Sweat coated his body instantly. His eyes stung. “What do you mean?” Once the woman began to fall, the platform had become a blur. Kitty could have been there.
    “Come on now, lovie. You watched her go into that house and you waited forever. But then you were pleading with her through the letterbox.” She laughed her snorting laugh.
    He breathed again. “Yes, well, you’ve got it wrong. She had something I wanted to buy.”
    Winston moaned and covered his eyes.
    “Oh, reeeelly? You poor boy, you are in a bad way.”
    “I didn’t mean it that way,” Rupert said hurriedly. “You know I never look at anyone but you. It was stricdy business.”
    “Hang up,” Winston howled, then said more quietly, “and don’ t you dare slip and mention… He who is never mentioned is not to be mentioned.”
    “Put that little twerp on the phone,” Kitty said. “And get me money. A lot of it. Leave it with Vince at The Fiddle.”
    “Winston doesn’t want to talk to you,