Paris Love Match - By Nigel Blackwell Page 0,9

to know my name?”

“Oh. Yeah. Right. What’s your name?”

“Piers.”

She screwed her face up. “What, like at the seaside?”

Piers sighed. “Yes, like at the seaside.”

She stuck a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. “Umm. Nice.”

He didn’t bother to clarify what she considered nice. “Which way to the police station?”

She shook her head and peered out of the door. “Nah. We need to lie low for a while. I have a good friend. We can stay at her place.”

“Who’s the good friend?”

“You’re all questions, aren’t you?”

“I just want to know what I’m getting into. Do you know this friend well?”

“I just said so, didn’t I? I met her in a bar last week. She’s cool.”

“Last week? In a bar? How can that be a good. . .”

She turned away, stepped out of the door, and began walking fast.

Piers rushed to keep up. “I still think we need the police, but where does this friend of yours live?”

“A few blocks away.”

As they turned the corner, police sirens rang out. Piers grabbed Sidney’s arm.

She flashed him a disgusted look. “Oh relax. You hear sirens all the time in Paris.”

Three police cars screeched around the corner and raced down the street in their direction.

“Oops.” Sidney stepped sideways into a small café.

The patrons paid them no attention as she chose a table for two at the back of the café. Piers squeezed into a tiny seat wedged in the corner. His skin prickled with sweat.

The police cars raced by and their wailing sirens receded.

Piers gave a great sigh.

Sidney raised her eyebrows. “See. Just because they had sirens on didn’t mean they were coming for us.” She scraped the last of the ice cream from the tub and pushed it to the corner of the table.

The waiter arrived.

Sidney smiled at Piers. “Do you have any money?”

Piers scowled and ordered two coffees.

“I can’t take this any longer. We need to go to the police,” he said after the waiter left.

Sidney shrugged. “How can we trust them? You saw what happened. We need to—”

A phone rang, a crude, old-fashioned buzz that reminded Piers of his own ringtone. She rummaged in her handbag and pulled out a battered looking flip phone and stared at the number on its small display.

Piers eyes went wide. “Wait. Is that the dead guy’s phone? You took his phone?”

“Well, it wasn’t like he was going to use it, was it?”

“But that’s evidence. Incriminating evidence. And now you’ve got it. We’ve got it.”

“Oh, calm down.” She looked at the number again and gave a disparaging grunt. “Don’t know who they are. Not answering it.”

“No bloody wonder you don’t know who they are; it isn’t your phone.”

“Okay. I get it.” She tossed the phone onto the table. It stopped ringing.

The waiter returned with the coffees. Sidney downed hers in one gulp and handed the cup back to the man. “Great. I’ll have another.”

The waiter took the cup and stared at her. She smiled. “It really was very good. You should try some.”

The waiter grunted and walked off.

Piers put his lip to the coffee, found it too hot, and put it back down. “Like I said, we need the police, at a police station.”

Piers blew on his hot coffee.

The man’s phone rang again. Sidney looked at it without picking it up. “Merde. Same number.”

“It might be someone wanting to know he’s all right.”

“So what am I going to tell them? Sorry, he’s dead and I’ve got his phone?”

Piers shrugged. “You could play dumb.”

She rolled her eyes and flipped open the phone. “What?”

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you’re not going to get away with it.” Piers could easily hear the other party’s high-pitched voice spilling from the phone’s earpiece.

“Who’s this?” said Sidney.

“Go to the police and you and lover boy are going to be in deep trouble. Got it?”

“Lover boy?” said Sidney with her top lip curled up.

“Don’t get innocent with me. I know your sort, I’ve dealt with girls before.”

“Really? How fascinating.”

“Not as fascinating as what Auguste was carrying.”

“Who’s Auguste?”

“The man whose phone you nicked.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed, missy. You return what Auguste stole and maybe we’ll let you go free.”

“We’re free at the moment, if you hadn’t noticed.”

There was a long silence on the other end.

“Just return what you took.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play stupid with me, missy. You’re talking to an expert here. I mean … I mean get us what we want and I won’t have to set Gerard onto you.”

In the background Piers could hear a deep voice.

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