‘So what do you do?’ she said.
‘Liquor rep,’ I said. ‘Well, wine rep these days. Mostly wine. Like wine?’
‘Don’t mind a few wines,’ she said, fingers working in my hair. ‘Like champagne. You carry champagne?’
‘We’re agents for Thierry Boussain, French. Terrific drop. No-one’s ever heard of it, small firm. All people know is the Moet, Bollinger, that stuff, produce it in the millions of bottles. Thierry’s exclusive, few thousand cases.’
‘Never heard of it,’ she said. ‘Might try it one day.’
She dried my hair with a towel. ‘Cutting time. Sit in the first chair. Warmest place.’
I changed chairs.
‘Now,’ she said, ‘how do you want it?’
‘Actually,’ I said, looking at her in the mirror, ‘I think I’ll give the cutting part a miss, Cindy.’
Cindy froze. Terror in her eyes, tiny step backwards.
‘No,’ I said, ‘I’m not bad news. Bad news doesn’t have a shampoo first, anyone can come in, see me in the chair, get a good look at me.’
‘Who are you?’ she said, voice controlled, scared but under control.
‘A friend,’ I said. ‘Someone who wants you to stay alive. We want to talk to you about Darren. You talked to the police, I know. This is different.’
‘How different?’ She wasn’t looking at me, looking towards the door, possibly calculating her chances of reaching it.
‘Cindy,’ I said. ‘Look at me, look at me. Don’t be a dork, think you can run out the door, that’ll save you. Nothing to fear from me. I’m your best chance of staying alive. Forget witness protection, that number they gave you to ring. Rang it now, you’d be saved, would you? Batman, out of the sky, saves you?’
She swallowed. ‘That’s Superman. Batman comes in the Batmobile.’
‘Superheroes. Can’t get my superheroes straight. Darren had a big trust in cops, did he? Did he?’
‘No,’ she said, meeting my eyes in the mirror. ‘Didn’t trust anyone. Specially not cops.’
‘Wise man,’ I said. ‘Wisdom of an ex-cop.’
‘So wise he’s dead.’
‘No-one’s wise enough. Unfortunately.’
Cindy hugged herself. ‘What more can I tell?’
‘Things you didn’t tell the cops, right?’
‘Maybe. Some. I don’t know?’
‘Darren ever talk about someone called Algie?’
‘Algie? Didn’t say it like that.’
‘Didn’t say it like what?
‘Algie. Said it like El G.’
‘El G?’
‘Yeah, y’know, like El Torro?’
‘I get it. El G. Darren talk about El G?’
She shrugged. ‘Well, after the burg…’
‘What burg’s that?’
‘More like a hurricane than a burg,’ she said.
‘Place destroyed. Fifteen grand’s worth of damage.’
‘Darren said what?’
‘I dunno, El G. He said, fucking El G.’
‘He said, fucking El G. Like El G did it? You tell the cops that?’
‘No.’
‘What else didn’t you tell them?’
She hesitated.
Two cars went by in quick succession. Rush hour in Beachport.
‘Cindy,’ I said, ‘they’ve done the show. This is the tell.’
‘He said-Darren said-don’t worry, what they want, the lawyer’s got.’
‘The lawyer. Who’s the lawyer?’
‘In Melbourne. Fielding something, they used to write. I don’t know. I was out the house so quick. Fielding, three names. You want some coffee?’
‘Coffee would be nice, Cindy,’ I said. ‘Black.’
‘Sugar?’
‘Just the one. Thank you.’