A New Case For Harrison

The truth was out, and the Ladysmile Detective Agency had solved another case . . .

IT wasn’t entirely unusual for Harrison to fall asleep at his desk and wake up with a start in the middle of the night. Tonight, though – or technically this morning, for he could see from his watch that it was past four o’clock – he felt better than he had for some days.

This last case that Ruth, the solicitor who provided a lot of their work, had passed on to them, should have been simple enough.

Ruth’s client, the architect Duncan, had been commissioned by property developer Roderick to draw up plans for a strip of land Roderick’s company was buying from some big local landowners. The deal had then collapsed.

Duncan had carried on with the work, claiming he hadn’t known it had fallen through. But Roderick believed that Duncan must have known, and he was accordingly refusing to pay Duncan’s bill.

Harrison had spoken to all the parties involved, but somehow he just hadn’t been able to get a handle on it – until now.

He knew some people placed great importance on dreams, theorising that they were a means by which your subconscious sent you messages.

In the dream from which he’d just woken up, a figure recognisable as Ewan, their young trainee, had appeared. He was older than Ewan was, though, had grown a beard and was wearing a very un-ewan checked suit.

In the dream, Ewan was repeating what he’d said to Harrison the previous day about something he’d recently been involved in as a favour to a friend.

It turned out that the person he thought was involved was innocent, and it was his father who was running the whole show.

Duncan’s was just a small concern; not much more than a one-man band. But the property developers and the landowners were more substantial, and Pip had been busy extracting from the internet all that she could find on them.

Harrison being Harrison, he had barely glanced at the fruit of her labours – he believed solutions were to be found out on the streets, not via computers. But now he went over to her desk.

He found the stuff she’d printed out about the property development company first.

“Yes!” He punched the air in triumph.

Roderick, the man he’d

been to see there, was not actually the one in control of the company, as they’d thought. He was only responsible for the management.

“It’s his father who owns it,” Harrison murmured to himself.

A further rummage revealed that it was a similar situation with the landowner. Samantha, the woman he’d spoken to there, fronted the firm, but it was her mother who was the main shareholder.

In amongst the print-outs were photos of the mother and father. Neither picture was of particularly good quality, but even so . . .

“I’m sure I’ve seen them both before somewhere – and recently, too.”

Harrison frowned. The problem was he couldn’t think where. He puzzled over it a while longer but got nowhere.

Going over to the window, he saw that dawn was now lightening the sky.

The day would soon be starting. He made coffee, then went to the washroom, splashed his face with cold water and tidied himself up as best he could.

There was still no sign of Pip or Ewan when he got back to their little suite, but it was now approaching normal office hours.

He picked up the telephone on his desk.

Harrison was concluding the second of the two calls he’d made when his colleagues arrived.

“Who were you speaking to?” Pip asked, eternally nosy.

He told them what he’d discovered.

“That was the landowners I was speaking to,” he finished. “To see if I could have a word with the real boss.”

“Any joy?”

“No. She rarely comes into the office these days apparently. It was the same with the other lot – Roderick’s father isn’t a frequent visitor, either.

“Neither person I spoke to was willing to pass on any kind of message.” He shook his head. “It’s what I expected really, both of them having handed over the day-to-day running to their kids.”

Pip nodded.

“Never mind.”

She looked, he thought, far from happy as she sat down at her desk.

Ewan, after expressing his pleasure that it was something he’d said that had caused this present breakthrough, seemed thoroughly miserable, too.

With both his workmates quiet and preoccupied, Harrison was thinking it wasn’t much livelier than it had been in the middle of the night when a voice from outside broke the silence.

“Stretch up. You’re reaching for the stars. That’s it, you’ve got them. Now hold them.”

Eloise, who also rented space in the Ladysmile Lane building, was starting one of the classes that she conducted in the attractive garden area.

“Can’t she be a bit quieter about it?” Pip grumbled, casting an exasperated glance at the window.

On many occasions Harrison had voiced similar sentiments.

But today he was laughing.

“That’s it! I’ve remembered where I saw the landowner woman! The night Ruth came round with the file for this case, I saw her out, and the woman was leaving at the same time with a group of others who’d been attending one of Eloise’s sessions.”

“So we can find out how to contact her from Eloise?” Ewan asked.

“I wouldn’t bet on that!” Pip replied.

“No,” Harrison agreed. “Eloise can be awkward. And quite rightly so – she should keep her clients’ details private.” He smiled. “However, if we happened just by chance to see something . . .”

They waited until Eloise’s class finished and the participants – a mixed age group, all in baggy tracksuit-like garments – dispersed.

These were the moments in the job that Harrison loved, when you’d had setbacks but now there was a chance of progress, and you all felt it.

“Is that Eloise going back upstairs?” Harrison asked as they heard footsteps.

Ewan crept to the door and stole a look. “Yes.”

“Is she on her own?” “Yes.”

“OK,” Harrison said, “give me five minutes and then you know what to do.”

“I must say, John –” Eloise was one of the few people who used Harrison’s first rather than his last name “– that I’m surprised at you coming up here, expressing interest in my relaxation classes.”

She peered at him through heavily made-up eyes and he thought of Cleopatra in an old film he’d seen.

“When we’ve spoken in the communal kitchen, you have sometimes sounded rather unconvinced about the various courses I run,” she finished.

“Wasn’t that the stuff about auras we were discussing?” he replied quickly. “I can’t really buy into that one, no. But a straightforward relaxation class is different.”

“Well, of course I’m delighted.” She smiled and waved a hand at him, setting a-jangle the bracelet she was wearing.

He recognised it as what he believed was called a charm bracelet. Ruth had one, though the charms in this case looked more esoteric than Ruth’s.

“I sometimes find it hard to unwind,” he continued.

“Certainly,” she said, “you do seem jumpy. I can’t help but notice that you appear to be having trouble keeping still for two minutes in a row.”

It was true that, as they were talking, he was moving steadily to the back of her office – or studio, as she called it – with Eloise accompanying him.

“Perhaps meditation –” she started saying, but was interrupted by the telephone ringing.

“I’m sorry. Excuse me,” she said, turning to the phone which was at the opposite end of the room from where they stood.

“Don’t worry.” Harrison brushed away her apology. “Please go and answer it. It might be important.”

But then again, it might not, he thought to himself with a guilty smile.

With her busy on the phone, her back to him, he seized the opportunity to have a good look around.

Her desk was in the part of the long room where he still stood, and he was pleased to see that she was a list-maker and had large handwriting.

Whilst absorbing everything he could, and expressing silent thanks for his good memory, he remained alert to what Eloise was saying.

Advance warning of her intention to finish the conversation she was having would be useful.

“I have already told you it is nothing to do with me!” Eloise was saying. “I ordered no such thing. Pardon?”

There was a brief pause. “No, I did not call in earlier and pay for them by card, and don’t you dare just leave them on the front door step for me!

“You wait right there – I’m coming down now to sort this out.”

Harrison remained alert to what Eloise was saying

“So, did my brilliant idea of posing as someone from a sandwich shop wanting to deliver her order for twenty-four cheese-andpickle sandwiches on malted brown bread create a sufficient diversion for you to learn anything?” Pip asked when he got back to his own office.

“It sure did.” He smiled. “While she went down to see them, I got a glance at a sort of

register she keeps and Samantha’s mother is on it. So I was right – this is where I’ve seen her.”

“Was there a phone number?”

“No. But interestingly, Roderick’s father is on the list as well –”

“Is he now?” Pip interrupted, already making for the door. “I’ve had another idea . . .”

“How strange,” Eloise said. “There must be a vibe going round the building. I’ve just had John up here, too, asking about relaxation classes.”

John? Despite everything it took Pip a moment to realise that she was referring to Harrison.

“Oh?” She smiled back at Eloise. “Well, it’s a very stressful job we do, you know.”

“Exciting, though,” Eloise returned.

“Yes. But the hours are ludicrously long. Sometimes I feel all I do is work and that my life outside of work could do with more excitement, too.”

Seeing Eloise nodding sympathetically, Pip lowered her voice as though speaking in confidence, woman to woman.

“I’m wondering if any presentable men attend your classes?”

Her thoughts briefly turned to her admirer, Marcel – assuming he did still admire her, of course. But now was not the time to be brooding on that.

“Not as many as we have women,” Eloise replied, “and I would like more equality of numbers, so John will be made very welcome. Please tell him that.

“But, yes, we do have a few and –” here she smiled conspiratorially at Pip “– romance has blossomed between one pair already!”

As she spoke, Pip noticed her glancing over towards the door.

“Are you expecting a client?” Pip asked.

“In a few minutes.” “OK, I’ll be off now. I’ll let you know what I decide. And I’ll tell John what you said.”

On the way out, Pip paused to pick up a glossy brochure from a pile on a small table.

“Is it all right if I take one of these?” she asked.

“Of course. Have as many as you want, Pip. Take one for John, too.”

“Relax at our lakeside retreat, the ultimate in luxury . . .”

Pip couldn’t help but smile at Harrison’s expression as he read aloud from the cover of the brochure which, back in their own office, she had handed to him.

Beneath the invitation was a photograph of said retreat, a beautiful old manor house. Inside were more photos of both public and private rooms.

“Ultimate in luxury” was quite a claim, Pip reflected, but possibly it wasn’t too far out on this occasion.

“It is very nice,” Harrison admitted, “but, goodness me, see the price! It’s robbery!”

“Look at all the facilities they have, though,” Ewan pointed out, busy flicking through the second copy of the brochure that Eloise had pressed on to Pip. “You can have a hot stone massage, go Nordic walking –”

“What on earth is Nordic walking?” Harrison interrupted. “Does it mean you go out in one of those big patterned jumpers like in the Scandi dramas on the telly?”

Pip noticed the smile on his face, but Ewan took him seriously.

“I think you have long poles that look like skis. And they’ve got a superfood restaurant, award-winning chef . . .”

“It’s still a lot of money,” Harrison repeated.

“But neither of them are poor, are they?” Pip replied. “And when Eloise was telling me about a couple finding romance at one of her classes, I noticed she looked over to the door where there’s a stack of these brochures.”

Ewan remained engrossed in contemplating the delights on offer at the mansion by the lake, but Harrison nodded, understanding the point she was making.

They’d seen it time and time again, when the little gestures made by people revealed far more than what they actually said.

“So you reckon they’re there together?” he asked.

“I think they might be. You established when you phoned their company headquarters that neither is around at the moment, and it feels right.”

“It’s a fair trek to go down to see them.” Harrison looked at the address. “A good five hours’ drive.”

“They’ve got a helipad there,” Ewan offered.

“But we don’t have a helicopter,” Harrison replied, giving Ewan a look. “They might not even be there when we get there.”

“We can establish that with a phone call,” Pip suggested impatiently

– she was the kind of woman who liked to get on with things. “We might be able to speak to one of them on the phone if we word our request in the right way.”

“It’s worth trying before we go dashing off,” Harrison said. “So who should we say we are?”

They sat a while, puzzling over what to do. In the course of various investigations, they’d posed as cleaners, gardeners and journalists.

Several suggestions were put forward. All – including posing as Eloise with news about a new class – were rejected.

Harrison finally shrugged. “When you can come up with nothing else . . .”

“. . . tell the truth,” Pip finished for him, smiling and thinking how often they’d said that to each other over their long association.

Harrison elected to make the call. He put the phone on loudspeaker so Pip could contribute if she wanted to.

In truth he wasn’t hopeful of getting put through to either of them. But – unusually, he thought wryly – Lady Luck seemed to be shining on the Ladysmile Detective Agency today.

Someone who he suspected was not a usual receptionist answered.

That was a trick of theirs. It didn’t always work, but as a general rule, if you wanted to get in somewhere, the best time to go was either very first thing in the morning or the last thing at night.

Hopefully the proper receptionist would not be there and whoever was standing in would be less experienced in seeing people off.

The person today sounded rather flustered and Harrison was put through to Roderick’s father, Tom.

It became clear early on that Tom knew nothing about the situation with Duncan.

“No, I didn’t know an architect had been instructed to prepare plans to develop the site. I hadn’t even known that we were negotiating to buy that particular piece of land until I was told by Lydia.”

“Lydia is Samantha’s mother,” Pip mouthed at Harrison unnecessarily.

At the same time, he could hear in the background someone saying something to Tom.

The phone was handed over and he was then speaking to Lydia.

“I myself only found out by accident that my daughter had provisionally accepted an offer for the land,” she explained. “My late husband loved it there down by the canal, and I was furious when I heard about her scheme to sell it.

“So I contacted Tom to discuss it,” she went on, “which was the first he’d heard of it, and he was as angry as I was.”

With the phone continuing to be passed between them, Harrison pieced together what had happened.

Both Lydia and Tom had recently lost their partners. In the immediate aftermath, as they each tried to get back on their feet, they’d both

left more and more of the day-to-day running of their respective companies to their children – ambitious children who had started making increasingly important decisions without reference to their parents.

And just as Lydia didn’t want to sell the strip of land, Tom didn’t want to buy it, feeling his company had enough work on.

The pair had then met to talk about it.

Apparently this was arranged for after one of Eloise’s classes that Lydia attended, which Tom subsequently signed up for. Both told him this, Harrison noted, in a different tone of voice, and clearly it was where their relationship had further developed.

At that first meeting, though, it had all been business talk and they’d decided to teach their kids a lesson by cancelling the deal over their heads.

“We did it at the very last minute,” Tom confessed, “to cause maximum upset and make them think twice before ever doing the same thing again.”

Neither knew, however, that Duncan had been commissioned by Roderick to prepare a set of drawings.

“No-one thought to tell him and he just continued with the work,” Harrison told Pip and Ewan when the call was over.

“So Duncan was acting in good faith and was in no way trying to pull a fast one by carrying on with and charging for work that would never be needed, as Roderick had suspected,” Pip finished.

“That’s right.” Harrison nodded. “His bill will now be paid, according to Tom and Lydia.”

Pip smiled as Harrison disappeared through the door from the office, saying he’d phone Ruth with the good news.

“But I’ll phone from outside. It’s cooking in here, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think it’s hot, do you?” Pip said to Ewan as Harrison moved out of earshot.

“No!” He laughed.

Pip noted it was the first time she had seen Ewan smile all day.

“Clearly he wants to talk to her privately,” she added, still grinning.

“I’d be happy,” Ewan muttered, “if Amy would just talk to me at all!”

He was speaking so quietly that Pip thought she probably wasn’t supposed to hear. But she knew there were problems between Ewan and his girlfriend from her meeting with Amy the previous day.

Amy had come to the office to ask if Pip knew what was going on with Ewan. But at the point Amy had turned up, Pip and Harrison hadn’t known any more about his whereabouts than Amy herself.

Amy had told Pip that she had that afternoon sent a text message to Ewan, saying if he didn’t reply with an explanation, they were finished.

“We’re an item – he owes me that much,” Amy had said. Pip had felt that she meant it, and from the way Ewan was now behaving, it seemed she’d been right.

Her instinct was to tell Ewan how concerned Amy had been about him, but she’d promised Amy she would keep their chat confidential. Would she be breaking that promise if she said something to Ewan?

She was still wondering when Ewan asked if it was OK if he went home.

“I didn’t sleep last night and I’m up early tomorrow for that new surveillance job,” he explained. “Yes, you go,” Pip agreed. Harrison returned just after Ewan left.

“I went to see Ruth instead of phoning her,” he said, “and do you know why she was so concerned about the possibility Duncan was a liar?”

“No,” Pip said, crossing her fingers that it wasn’t what she had at times suspected – that Duncan was more than just a client to Ruth.

Not that she didn’t wish Ruth well if that were the case. Though they all knew Harrison adored Ruth, he had done nothing about it.

Mind you, neither had Ruth made a move, and Pip was sure she was as crazy about Harrison as he was about her.

Then she saw the expression on Harrison’s face.

“Duncan’s engaged to a friend of hers,” he said. “This friend has been let down before and had a wedding called off just before the big day. Her friend went to pieces over it all and Ruth didn’t want to see her hurt again.”

“So when it was suggested by Roderick that Duncan was a cheat –”

“She had to find out,” Harrison interrupted.

Pip saw the relief in his face and sighed. But whether he would now do anything about his feelings for Ruth was anyone’s guess.

Ewan was genuinely tired – he hadn’t slept. And it was also true he had to be up very early the next day.

As he walked to where he’d left his motorbike, he reflected that he’d also wanted to get out of the office to be alone to think.

That retreat with the helipad kept popping into his head. Working for Harrison – love it though he did – was never going to make him rich.

Bearing in mind his start in life, he’d thought he was doing well, but was he really? Had Amy dumped him for someone with better prospects?

He didn’t really believe that. Amy’s mum had died when she was young, but that hadn’t left her in the same situation as himself and his childhood pal Becca, being shunted around care homes.

Amy still had her dad, but nonetheless she had experienced real loss, and that changed you. It made you realise what was really important in life.

When he’d arrived back the previous day from helping Becca, he’d gone round to Amy’s house to see her. He’d turned up without phoning first, having forgotten his phone at Becca’s flat in all the drama, and Amy wouldn’t even speak to him.

His gloomy replay of the previous evening’s events was interrupted as he suddenly remembered the situation with his phone.

They had a couple of spare mobiles in the office and he’d intended to ask for one until he got his own back. But he’d forgotten to do that, too.

He hurried back to the office. Only Pip was in. He explained what had happened, expecting her to be annoyed. His phone had a lot of information on it.

“I’m going back to get it as soon as I can,” he told her, “and it’ll be safe with Becca.”

“Ewan, don’t worry.” Far from being angry, she was smiling. “So your phone – when did you last have it?” He told her. “Which means you were without it for most of yesterday. You wouldn’t have seen any text messages sent to you that afternoon.” She sounded to him now to be talking mostly to herself. “That makes a big difference.”

Suddenly she seemed to want him out of the office. He took a replacement phone and started off back to his flat, stopping on the way to buy some food.

“Ewan!” He heard his name being called as he climbed up the steps to the door of the converted house where the flat was.

“Pip’s just phoned me, Ewan!” Amy called, running towards him . . .

Arriving next morning, Pip was delighted to catch a glimpse of Amy looking radiantly happy. Ewan sounded the same when he phoned in later with an update on the surveillance job he was on.

She felt quite like Cupid! Which promptly got her reflecting again on the situation with Marcel.

She’d been surprised when the elegant restaurateur had shown an interest in her. As a young

woman, she hadn’t attracted much male attention, and she’d been in her middle years when she’d met her husband, whom sadly she’d lost after too short a time together.

Unsure she was ready to move on, she hadn’t considered there was any future for her and Marcel as anything but friends. But learning that he’d arranged a date with someone else – Carrie, who supplied wine to his restaurant – she’d felt a twinge of jealousy. Harrison came in then. “You know how we were suspicious about Duncan booking all those tables at Marcel’s restaurant,” he asked, “bearing in mind he was supposed to be on the brink of bankruptcy?” “Yeah.” “Apparently they were part of Ruth’s friend’s wedding arrangements; opportunities for the couple’s parents to get to know each other better.”

“Yeah,” Pip repeated, still thinking about Marcel. Harrison laughed. “Ruth sounded quite envious when she told me! She really rates Marcel’s.” There was a pause.

“Yes, I think I’ll invite her for lunch there,” Harrison concluded. “After all, she gives us loads of work. I’ll book a table now.”

“Er, let me do it,” Pip interrupted, picking up the phone.

“A table for two? Yes. What day?” Marcel asked.

“What day?” she mouthed to Harrison.

“Hang on, I’ll speak to Ruth,” he said, searching in the pocket of his leather jerkin for his mobile.

“Can you hold on just a moment?” Pip said to Marcel, then asked conversationally, “How was the play you went with Carrie to see?”

“Not the best evening I’ve had, to be honest, Pip.”

She wondered whether he was talking just about the play or the whole occasion.

Maybe he and Carrie got on well professionally, but it didn’t work for them on a personal level. Harrison interrupted her. “Could he fit us in tomorrow lunchtime?” he asked.

Marcel confirmed that he could.

“I will arrange a special table for them, shall I?” he asked.

“Yes, please do.”

“Gosh,” Ruth said when they were shown to a table in the quietest corner of Marcel’s restaurant the next day. “Candles and red roses. Is this the right one? It looks more like something for a couple. Do you think they might have made a mistake?”

“Er, yes, they must have,” Harrison replied, looking across to the front of the restaurant where the usual lunchtime business clientele were seated. “I’ll get us moved over there.”

“Oh, I feel like hitting their heads together!” Marcel exclaimed to Pip when he phoned the office to report progress – or lack of it, as it turned out.

Pip told Ewan and they exchanged an exasperated smile.

“And what a pity,” Marcel continued. “I myself styled the table so very nicely. Would you like to join me for lunch? It’s a shame to waste the flowers – they will not last.”

“OK,” she agreed, her voice casual as she nearly knocked the coat stand over on top of Ewan in her haste to grab her jacket.

Hurrying out of the office, she caught a few bars of the song “Love Is In The Air” from a car radio.

It seemed that way today, she thought with a smile.

The man Ruth’s friend was marrying wasn’t a scoundrel; Lydia and Tom seemed to be doing fine; and Ewan and Amy were an item again.

And she and Marcel? She had missed him, there was no doubt about that. And Harrison and Ruth? She laughed. Probably there was still as much hope for them as there ever was!

The End.