“Sorry to keep you waiting, Bart,” Hugo said to the man. “Got held up, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.”
“No problem, sir.”
“Stay and have a drink with us?”
“Not tonight, sir.” Bart winked. “Getting a babysitter for Amy and taking a date to the theater.”
“Get going, then.” Hugo was delighted to hear that his colleague, and friend, was going on a date. Denum had been raising his daughter, Amy, alone since his wife had been killed in the same car crash that took Hugo’s wife, Ellie. Since then, Denum had focused all his attention on his daughter, wrapping her in cotton wool and letting no other woman near him or his precious girl. Hugo smiled. “Glad to hear it. Have fun, and have her call me if she’s upset about you being late.
“I will. Good night, sir.”
“Good night.” He turned to the bar as Jen appeared with the drinks.
“Here you go, luv,” she said. “John’s tab?”
“That’s the one. Thanks.”
Cooper sat up as Hugo arrived with the jugs of beer. He nodded toward the door that Bart had just closed behind him. “If I have to have a bodyguard everywhere I go, could you at least find one who’ll sit and have a beer with me?”
“Sure,” said Hugo, sitting opposite his boss and with his back to the wall. “Course, if I saw him do that I’d have to fire him.”
“Not if I fired you first.”
“True. So I need to tell you why I was late.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Cooper held up a silencing hand. “You’ll want to hear about a little task I have for you.”
“Right, you said on the phone you had something new and interesting for me to do.”
“Yes.” Cooper stooped to his beer, taking the top inch off it with a practiced slurp. He sat back and wiped his mustache with the back of his hand. “Good stuff. A little high profile, this endeavor, which is why I want you on it. Personally.”
Hugo raised an eyebrow. “Not sure I like the sound of that.”
“Me neither, frankly. But I have a boss, too, and she’s paying attention for once.”
“OK.” Hugo watched Cooper over the rim of his beer glass.
“That little accident that made the front pages,” Cooper said.
“Accident?”
“Yes, the one involving Dayton Harper and his lovely wife.”
“Ginny Ferro. What does that have to do with us?” The accident Cooper was talking about involved two of Hollywood’s up-and-coming movie stars. Two days previously, while shooting a movie in Hertfordshire, they’d disappeared from the set in Harper’s convertible Jag. The newspaper stories were sparse, but the headlines had screamed to the world that they’d run down a local farmer and sped away, leaving him to bleed to death in a ditch beside a winding country lane. An eyewitness and a damaged hood had led the police to Harper and Ferro, who quickly confessed and, from jail, threw themselves on the mercy of the British public.
“That’s what I wondered,” Cooper frowned. “Only it seems that our Dayton Harper was born as Dayton Horowitz, the son of a certain Jasper Horowitz.”
“The guy who owns half of Texas, most of its oil, and almost all of its water rights.”
“You know him?”
“Of him. As does everyone who grew up in Texas. And you either love him or hate him.”
“Which is it for you?”
Hugo smiled into his pint. “No comment.”
“Not that it matters. Jasper Horowitz is also a huge supporter of my boss’s boss. Not that the secretary of state or the prez have put any pressure on me directly, of course.”
“Oh, no, of course not. But if you know what’s good for you, you’ll pitch in and do your bit, right?”
“Right. Which is where you come in.”
Hugo sat back and looked at his boss. “Wait. Don’t tell me …”
“I’m afraid so. Harper is getting out of jail tomorrow morning, and I need you to look after him.”
“For how long?”
“As long as it takes. Though I don’t know what ‘it’ means in this situation.” Cooper sipped his beer. “As you might know, and if you don’t you’ll soon learn, a large part of your job will be babysitting.”
“That’s fine, I don’t mind.”
“I appreciate that. A movie star could be interesting, if a little high maintenance.”
“Better an actor than a politician,” Hugo said with a smile.
“Oh, you’ll get one of those sooner or later, don’t you worry.”
“I’ll manage. So the tabloids have people pretty riled up about this accident, huh?”
“Putting it mildly.” Cooper grimaced. “He’s lucky they don’t have the death penalty here.”
“Maybe.” A thought struck Hugo. “Doesn’t he have bodyguards of his own? He can certainly afford them.”
“Probably. But the last set didn’t keep him out of trouble. And even if he does have them, and they manage to stick with him, the last thing we need is half a dozen freelance American bodyguards beating up outraged members of the British public.” Cooper drained his glass and licked his lips. “He’s a US citizen accused of a serious crime and in potential danger of vigilante justice. Movie star or otherwise, he deserves our protection.”
“Fair enough.” Hugo smiled to show there were no hard feelings. “But I’d be happier sticking close to his wife.”
Cooper chuckled. “You and the rest of the male world.” He cleared his throat and looked around the pub. “And that’s where this gets a little delicate.”
“How so?”
“She’s already been released. This morning. Kind of an administrative cock-up, actually. Her bail was paid and she was supposed to be held until tomorrow, when she and her hubby would go home with us. With you.”
“So what happened?”
“We’re not too sure. That’s the delicate part. Apparently some flunky looked at her paperwork, opened her cell door, and handed her a bus pass into London. No doubt she’s hiding in a beauty salon or a coffee shop somewhere. Getting a good haircut, with any luck.”
“I see,” Hugo nodded. “And you don’t want hubby to know she’s on her own.”
“Correct. If he finds out, his father finds out …”
“Your boss finds out.”
Cooper shrugged. “That’s the gist of it. Plus, the more people who know, the more likely the media find out. Talk about vigilante justice.” He shuddered, then picked up his empty glass. “Still, that’s tomorrow’s business.” He looked at this watch and then toward the bar. “Cottage pie should still be available. My treat.”
Hugo stood and collected their glasses. “I’ll order and get refills.”
The secret, Al had told them a few months back, was to use lamb, not mutton, and let it soak in red wine for a few hours. Warm red wine, apparently. And lots of garlic in the mashed potatoes that topped the stewy pie. “Thank the bloody Frogs for that tidbit,” he’d laughed. Hugo did thank them, and Al, every time he ate this dish.
As they tucked in, Hugo said, “We may need to move off the beer and onto something stronger.”
“Fine with me, but why?”
“I found a body in a cemetery.” He started his story, skipping over his trip to the alley for the time being and telling Cooper about the graveyard next to it, his walk through the fog-shrouded path, and the body hanging at the end of a rope in the far oaks.
Cooper listened, his mouth opening wider with each detail. “Jesus. No wonder you were late. And here I was, all concerned with my own problems.”
“I’ve seen that stuff before, John, it’s OK.”
“I suppose you have, but still.” He shook his head. “So, who was he?”
“No idea. I left as soon as they let me, and I didn’t see the crime-scene people find any identification. They left the hood in place, so they wouldn’t disturb any forensic evidence.”