Free Lovelace and Button (International Investigators) Inc. by James Hawkins Page A

Gallic tongue, is one person in the world whom Bliss would rather not disappoint at present.
    â€œI hear you’ve got something going with a little French…” says Donaldson with a wink, leaving the sentence in the air.
    â€œHow the hell…” Bliss shoots back, then realizes that Daphne has been at work. “Go on,” he laughs heartily,“call her a frog. Yes, if you must know. As Daphne said to me recently, I may not be a spring chicken, but I’ve had an offer.”
    Daisy’s very tempting offer, to throw up her life as a French real estate agent to become Mrs. Chief Inspector Bliss, has been on the table for more than a month, but any delaying tactics on Bliss’s part have been more to do with his contemplation of becoming Mr. Provençal Real Estate than a desire to fob her off.
    Since his celebrated discovery he could leave the police force, and England, at any time and find fortune in his fame by chronicling his adventures, or so he is told. But first he has an obligation to redeem himself in the eyes of his colleagues by putting the skids under the universally despised Chief Superintendent Edwards.
    Bliss’s promotion to Chief Inspector, touted as a reward for his discovery of the missing treasure, had, he knows, roots that reached much deeper into the murky political underworld of the police force, and he is well aware that Chief Superintendent Edwards had a hand in the decision. “Always keep a dangerous dog on a very short leash,” Edwards once told him, and he was convinced he had drawn Bliss’s teeth by giving him a plum job with an office down the hall from his own.
    â€œInterpol Liaison Officer,” said the freshly painted sign on Bliss’s door, and he was well aware of the jealous scuttlebutt amongst some of those in the junior ranks who weren’t privy to his motives. “So Edwards walked, then,” one of his colleagues said sourly after Bliss failed to show up at the disciplinary hearing that should have got the megalomaniacal Chief Superintendent off everyone’s back.
    â€œJust give it time, Bill,” Bliss replied, knowing that, while Edwards might have escaped on this occasion, he was still firmly attached to the other end of the leash.
    Daphne’s house lights are spilling onto the darkened street as Bliss arrives after midnight.
That’s very unusual,
he is thinking, having expected her to be in bed, but as he steps out of his car he’s almost flattened by a musical din.
    The third movement of Elgar’s “Enigma Variations” is playing so loudly on Daphne’s record player that she fails to hear Bliss at the door, and he’s finally forced to bang on the window. It takes her almost a minute to answer, and he immediately senses a problem as she leans heavily on the door jamb.
    â€œDavid… I maybe… What? What is it?” she asks, seeing his look of concern. “What… What’re you looking at me like that for?”
    â€œAre you all right, Daphne?” he wants to know as he escorts her to the living room and turns down the music.
    â€œYes. Well, let’s just… um… Well, there’s a letter from Minnie.”
    â€œPerhaps you should sit down,” he says, and reaches out to guide her.
    â€œI’m all right… I can manage. Thank you,” she says curtly, and firmly throws off his hand.
    â€œI know.”
    â€œWell, don’t push, then… You don’t need to push… I’m perfectly capable…”
    â€œJust come over here and sit down,” he tries again.
    â€œYou’re pushing. Don’t push… D’ye wanna scotch?”
    â€œNo…”
    â€œThere’s some gin,” she starts, then exclaims, “Oops!” as she loses her balance while reaching for the empty bottle. “Hold tight, Chief Inspector!” she yells as she falls against him. “Lower the gangplank — I’m coming