As The Pig Turns

the fly, thought Toni. There was something overpowering and quite threatening about Dolores.
    The office was tastefully decorated. Dolores sat behind an antique mahogany desk. Toni sat in an upright chair in front of it. There were several of what looked like good abstracts on the wall and a framed print of an Aubrey Beardsley drawing.
    Dolores lit a cigar and leaned back in her chair. ‘So when did you and Aggie split up?’
    ‘We didn’t . . . we haven’t,’ said Toni. ‘I wanted a change of scene.’
    ‘I don’t mind giving you a trial for a few months. Like a drink?’
    ‘No, thank you. A bit early for me.’
    ‘Never too early for me.’ Dolores opened a bottom drawer in her desk and took out a bottle of whisky and a glass.
    Toni laughed. ‘I thought detectives only did that in books.’
    ‘Get one thing straight, my child, you never laugh at me. I demand absolute respect. Now I’ll start you with the small stuff and see how you get on. You cannot expect me to pay you a full salary until I decide you are worth it.’
    ‘I’ve made a mistake,’ said Toni, getting abruptly to her feet. ‘Good day.’
    ‘Why, you snotty little bitch!’ shouted Dolores as Toni darted out the door, out of the office and out into the street.
    James saw Toni emerge from the office opposite just as the man he was sure must be Paul Finlay threw down some money for his bill and exited the café. Paul followed Toni, and James followed both.
    Toni was standing, irresolute, beside her car when a voice behind her said, ‘This is Paul. I have a knife. Get into your car. If you scream, I will kill you.’
    The next thing that happened was a shriek rending the air. James had twisted Paul’s knife arm backwards so viciously that he had dislocated Paul’s shoulder. Paul fell to the ground, shouting and writhing in pain. James called the police. ‘If you try anything again,’ he hissed at Paul, ‘I’ll break your neck.’
    James sat in the reception area of police headquarters and waited for Toni to emerge. He had stopped Agatha from coming, saying it would be better if he had a word with Toni on his own.
    At last she emerged, followed by Bill. ‘I’m just going to take her for a drink,’ said James. ‘I’m sure she needs one.’
    ‘All right,’ said Bill. ‘You do suddenly seem to pop up at the right moment. Seen Agatha?’
    ‘Of course.’
    When they were seated in the pub, Toni thanked James for having rescued her.
    ‘I think you should phone Agatha and take the rest of the day off,’ said James. He added gently, ‘You know, Agatha is terribly upset about the mistake she made regarding Simon Black. She had no right to interfere in your life, and she knows that now. She had one of her intuitions about Simon. Probably wrong. Can’t you withdraw your notice and just get on with her?’
    ‘I’ll have to,’ said Toni miserably. She told James about her attempts to find work at two other agencies.
    ‘There you are,’ said James. ‘There’s worse than Agatha around.’
    Toni gave a weak laugh.
    ‘That’s my girl. Tell her you’ve decided to stay.’
    ‘All right. What if she tells me to get lost?’
    ‘Agatha’s too big-hearted to do that. Also, she does appreciate your work.’
    Toni finished her drink. ‘I’ll get right back to the office and do it now.’
    ‘Before you go, maybe you can help me. I have to buy a toy for a friend’s child – a little girl, seven years old. What do you suggest?’
    ‘There’s a great shop run by May Dinwoody. All the toys are handmade. You’ll find it in Tapestry Lane. It was Simon’s idea, but it was Agatha who did a big publicity stunt on it.’
    The days of May Dinwoody’s poverty had gone, but she had not acquired any dress sense. She was wearing a long cardigan over a pink T-shirt, a tweed skirt and Wellington boots decorated with pink daisies.
    She mostly worked over the books in an office at the back of the shop, but when she saw the handsome figure of James entering the shop, she decided to serve him herself. He explained what he was looking for. ‘People usually buy dolls for little girls,’ said May in her soft Scottish burr, ‘but sometimes they are not dolly-type girls.’
    James laughed. ‘She is a bit of a tomboy.’
    ‘Let me see. What about this?’
    She picked up a beautifully handcrafted wooden black-and-white spaniel. ‘You pull it along by its leash,’ said May. ‘Listen!’ She placed the toy on the floor and pulled the leash.