Eightball Boogie by Declan Burke Read Free Book Online Page B

combination might get you a down payment. She poured something black and sludgy from the pot bubbling on the Aga.
    “ Sugar?”
    “ No thanks, I’m watching my figure.”
    She smiled, distant, a woman who’d heard all the lines so many times she’d forgotten her cue. She put the coffee down, nothing for herself, lit a cigarette without offering me one.
    “ If you’ll excuse me for one moment, Mr Delaney…”
    I rolled a twist while I waited for her to come back from ringing her husband, who was out of the office with his mobile turned off, per instructions, or else I was in deep schtuck, as was he. When she returned, she lit another cigarette and sat down, composed. I tried another of my asinine smiles, nodded in the direction of the patio doors.
    “ Let’s hope the rain keeps off.”
    “ Naturally.” Her voice was dry frost, as befitted an Ice Queen, and I half-expected her words to drift across the tabletop and gas me. “You said you were speaking with Francis?”
    I thought, Francis?
    “ That’s right, yesterday afternoon.”
    “ And he wants to change our insurance policy?”
    “ Most people do when they discover how favourably First Option compares with our competitors.”
    She wrinkled her nose, like she’d smelt something sickly-sweet. Most people turn rabid when you say you can save them money, foaming at the mouth to find out more. The Ice Queen hadn’t even raised an eyebrow. I figured that Frank Conway had hit the jackpot when he’d married the beautiful Helen, felt the urge to check their marriage license against their delightful daughter’s birth cert, just for the hell of it.
    “ What time did you say your appointment was for, Mr Delaney?”
    Still suspicious, still polite.
    “ I didn’t, but it’s for four o’clock. Mr Conway assured me he’d be here.”
    “ If he said he’d be here, he’ll be here. He’s usually punctual.”
    Punctual means predictable and predictable means having a schedule to work around.
    “ It’s not essential that Mr Conway is here, actually. Perhaps you could help me out with a few details before he arrives? It’ll save time and time is money.”
    “ Details?”
    “ Oh, simple stuff.” I opened the battered briefcase, took out a sheaf of brochures and forms. I didn’t know what half of them said, and I was pretty sure she wouldn’t be interested, but I pushed them across the table for show. “How much your premium is, what the return adds up to, how it affects your tax allowance. The kind of settlement in place in the case of divorce. That kind of thing.”
    “ Divorce?”
    She was still a long way off interested but I thought I heard a note of surprise.
    “ It’s sad, Mrs Conway, but true. All life assurance policies taken out by married couples with First Option have a divorce clause inserted these days. It’s standard practice.”
    She laughed, delighted at the vulgarity of it all. My stomach somersaulted.
    “ I’m sure we don’t have a divorce clause, Mr Delaney.” Twisting her wedding ring absent-mindedly, the light snagging in the rocks and screaming for mercy. “Francis and I were married long before that kind of thing became necessary. As you know very well.”
    She smiled, coy. My stomach sprinted across the hurdles and took a flyer at the pole vault.
    “ I can’t imagine why Mr Conway would even contemplate divorce.” If Helen Conway was fishing she could count on reeling me in. “It’s just a standard question we ask at First Trust as part of our comprehensive customer package.”
    Her eyebrows flickered under a brittle frown.
    “ You mean First Option.”
    I grinned, tried to look embarrassed.
    “ First Option, of course. I’m not that long with the company…”
    “ Yes, well, I’m sure I’m just wasting your time, Mr Delaney. Francis handles our finances and you really should be talking to him.” She checked her watch, a tiny gold number. “And I don’t want to be rude, but I am expecting some company…”
    “